“Putting that piece together made us learn to speak, and now we can’t be quiet.”
This brought me back to the Women’s March in Boston a few weeks ago. The singer on stage sang the chilling feminist anthem “Quiet” by Connie Lim (aka MILCK) which echoes the same, universal sentiment:
But no one knows me no one ever will
if I don’t say something, if I just lie still
Would I be that monster, scare them all away
If I let them hear what I have to say
I can’t keep quiet.
I’m further reminded of my mother’s story. Heading to vote in the 1964 U.S. presidential election, she told me that my father revealed to her who she should vote for. When she asked what made him think that this was his call, he stated – not without impatience – that she’d promised before God to “honor and obey” him when they’d gotten married. She told him that she had her own ideas and would vote as she pleased.
I have always been in awe of unentitled bravery. How does the MILCK take her moment of abject vulnerability (the song “Quiet” is related to her experience with gender-based violence) to a nation-wide anthem that has the power to unite and soothe? How does this Malian woman go from a position of very little bargaining power – namely, a situation in which men hold and dictate all of the resources available to her – decide to stand up to local officials? How did my mother, a religious woman, know that defying God in this circumstance was a perfectly appropriate thing to do?
The answer is deeply personal and different for each woman. Recent research from Oxfam sheds some light on this question especially with respect to the relationship between women in successful savings groups and their political engagement:
“With SFC, the word is ‘liberated.’ Before SFC, I could barely express myself in front of more than three people. But over the years, my experience as group president and further training in Ségou (Mali) have given me the confidence to realize my opinion has value. I may not be literate, but I ran as a candidate in the municipal elections last year anyway, and I’ll try again next year.”
This research confirms for me what I’ve long suspected. Ultimately, having economic resources alone doesn’t necessarily lead to greater political activism. However, economic resources together with experiences that enable a process of personal empowerment increase the likelihood of engagement. In Mali, and likely in many places, variables in this equation include: 1) literacy levels, 2) access to civic education, 3) self-confidence, 4) the level of risk of social sanction, wherein “women avoid civic engagement for fear of transgressing their socially defined roles,” and 5) a political context where elected officials are responsive to their electorate. Basic economic stability, social capital and self-confidence are also critically important prerequisites to political action.
I continue to stand in awe of these and many other examples of bravery. It can be hard to imagine being so brave. But the feeling of connection and euphoria I felt standing with other women and men at the Boston’s Women’s march, gives me a window into how it is possible.
Read the Saving for Change Mali report.
By Mara Bolis, Associate Director of Women’s Economic Empowerment, Oxfam America.
This blog was originally posted on Global Washington.
Photo: A woman in Sido, Mali, explains to the mayor why formal marriages are necessary to protect women from abandonment. This is a reality seldom explicitly spoken aloud in mixed company. Oxfam.
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