The Sisterhood of Native Americans

image from Lenape Mural Project - note the man is facing outwards, away from the village, the woman inwards

Sisterhood is something we've shuffled off as we've "evolved." We think we no longer need the help and wisdom of our sisters and mothers.

Some of us acknowledge the need for it and arrange for girl's nights out or girl's weekends but what we're searching for becomes a moment in time and one used mainly for rest, relaxation and wine-drinking. We see the fun and negate the value of the exchange. It's a luxury or treat, but there was a time when societies recognized the importance of the domestic, community infrastructure for women.

The Lenape tribe was matrilineal (possessions were passed down on the mother's side). The women focused on agriculture and raising food, the men on hunting. They were a society of fixed, but not permanent settlements. The settlement was based around the fields in which they (the women) raised crops. The men launched mobile hunting expeditions from these locations. As the fields became fallow, the settlement would relocate.

The Cherokee were also matrilineal. Unlike the Lenape, they had permanent settlements and the women owned the property (items, not land). Men hunted, waged war and negotiated with other tribes.

When women married, their husbands joined them in their mother's household. This enabled women to have something we are missing today -- the ability to maintain their female support group. They had assistance in child bearing and raising. If their husband was killed in war or was separated from the tribe, or from them, they maintained their support system.

When the native america people were forced to live by European standards, these understandings began to erode and women lost a significant part of their power and support in these matrilineal communities.

 

The Not-So-Secret Handshake

This image has absolutely nothing to do with this blog post
but I did Love's Baby Soft as a pre-teen.

I joined a sorority in college because of networking opportunities. No, seriously. I was that strange 18-year-old who went to college to get a job and being able to say I was a Delta Whata Eva seemed like it would open doors for me. I was partially right. It did open doors in college -- doors to Beta Theta Pi, Delta Chi, and Sigma Alpha Epsilon, to name a few.

But this isn't a story about Frat parties or Girls Gone Wild. One of the things I hated about those parties was running into my male friends at the row and instead of hugging me when they would see me (I'm not much of a hugger anyway), they would greet me with a handshake. My allegedly secret sorority handshake, to be exact, and then they'd laugh.

Fraternities have many secrets from pledging to history, from video tapes to records kept. The urban legends were numerous but one thing my sisters and I never got was confirmation of any of their secret dealings. The women who were seriously dating and pinned to these guys couldn't even confirm the rumors we heard. Sororities, on the other hand, had their secrets blasted all over the row. Why? Because men are gossips? Hardly. Because we don't value the secrets we share with our sisters. We are cultured to believe that sharing every piece of ourselves with the men in our lives is what we should do; that includes things we were sworn to secrecy on.

Ladies, our secrets should be our own. This is not an exchange between two lovers. We are giving something of ourselves that is not being returned. Why?

Tie a Yellow Ribbon

We're spoiled, most of us. In a world of instant gratification and microwave meals, the idea of waiting for anything (outside of a ride at Disney or an i-fill in-the-blank product) seems absurd.

We want it all and we want it now, including people. In this poll from the Business Insider, the largest percentage of single people think having sex on the 2-5 date is appropriate. Assuming you see this person, once a week we're advocating waiting a whopping month and some odd change to begin a very intimate relationship with them.

But seeing as how this is not a morality blog, I'll get to the point. We don't understand the concept of waiting (as a larger population, not including military families who understand this all too well). I don't mean first date waiting or waiting until marriage. I mean waiting for someone to return, putting your faith in your emotions that you will both still want to be together at the end of your separation.

The other day, I was jamming to the oldies (if you can "jam" to Tony Orlando). Okay truth be told, I was cleaning my house. Jamming. Cleaning. They're all gerunds. What's the difference? The lyrics from Tie a Yellow Ribbon struck me.

"It's been three long years do you still want me?"

While the song was originally written about an ex-con, it's come to symbolize a returning hero and/or the desire for that individual to return. Three...long...years. I have nothing to compare this to. I used to get upset when my husband was 30 minutes late and I had to bathe the kids by myself.

Years ago, women knew about wait. They waited for men to return from wars that took years and not in the way ours do now with occasional leaves or time between deployment. These men left and before postal service you had only the occasional visitor from the front who would bring news of your loved ones. By that time the news of his safety could be months old and no longer true. These women, these communities knew about waiting. Waiting that was not spurned on by contact or messages from their loved ones. They waited without hope from their men and without news programs to tell them what was going on.

The women waited with their sisters for their men to return from war, or making their fortunes, or setting up a new life for them in a new country. There were no texts, emails or skype to pass the time and remind them of their love. The women had only one another to lean on. They shared their concerns with one another and helped with the upkeep of each other's homes. They were a community of sisters.

Today we can't go through a meal without texting one another and the idea of not talking for a week to our man is inconceivable to most of us. But is it love or dependency that requires us to be in constant communication?

Would we be able to wait alone with only our thoughts and our female friends to turn to?

What do you think?  

The Making of a Book

For the past year and a half, I've followed a brilliant blog - Blog of Manly. There I am entertained by the acerbic wit of Josh and the group I refer to as his merry men.

I credit Deadliest Catch as my inspiration for attempting a non-fiction book, but that's only partially true. It's really Josh and his guys. They're unique because in a world of honey, hold my purse and do these jeans make my butt look fat? female dialogue starters, they are working on bringing manly back.

Their work is necessary because at some point in recent history, women decided men needed to be manscaped and they needed to get in touch with their feelings. We (and I use this term to refer to my gender not any personal interest in these changes), told the men in our lives that their eyes would "pop" if they used a little guyliner and our pirates started putting ribbons in their hair. We even labeled said pirate the sexiest man alive.

We began to refer to ourselves as divas and princesses. We woo-hoo'd terms like Girl Power but insisted our men spoil us. We enjoyed posting the fruits of said spoiling on Facebook so that all of our girlfriends (as well as ex boyfriends) could see how well we were being taken care of.

We had evolved.

No, we still aren't making what men make from a financial standpoint, but now our husbands are calling us on their drive home and asking what we want for dinner.

In our demand for equality, we've overcorrected and veered dangerously off-course.

This is where the story (and the blog...and hopefully the book) begins.