{Messages From Some Heroic Fellows}

{Enough Is Enough}

March 24, 2018 will be remembered as a watershed day thanks to the bold courage of a few rallying the courage of many.

{a debt to a woman}

 

"Every man or woman who is sane, every man or woman who has the feeling of being a person in the world, and for whom the world means something, 

every happy person, is in infinite debt to a woman."

-Donald Winnicott

English pediatrician and psychoanalyst 

{as featured in the wonderful brainpickings by Maria Popova}

{International Women's Day}

My Mother told me to be a lady and for her 

that meant be your own person, be independent.

-Ruth Bader Ginsburg

We must evolve society for women to play a rightful role—not through quotas or reservations, but through education and empowerment.

-Sadhguru

{Please}

{Old Friends}

Your heart and my heart are very, very old friends.

-Hafiz

Hmmmm....what if we treated everyone as an old friend....xoxo

{Listen....The Girls Are Speaking!}

Little girls with big messages during the weekend's second (annual?) Women's March!

{Hearing from the Girls!}

As I watched the Golden Globes award ceremony last night, it felt as though I was witnessing a true happening...a watershed moment...a wide cultural shift...a truth-telling reckoning was spreading through the room...it was a moment where I could simply feel consciousness expanding. 

It was not only the words of the bold and articulate women who spoke as they introduced guests or accepted awards, but it was the energy in the room...you could see it in the faces and bodies of those present. It was exhilarating. Goddesses were walking amongst us!

And Oprah Winfrey, using the power of storytelling as she accepted the Cecil B. DeMille Award for lifetime achievement, was primed to be the Preacher-Woman! 
Below is a full transcript of her acceptance speech. (Don't miss her powerful story about Recy Taylor and Rosa Parks!) Enjoy....

..........................................................

In 1964, I was a little girl sitting on the linoleum floor of my mother's house in Milwaukee watching Anne Bancroft present the Oscar for best actor at the 36th Academy Awards. She opened the envelope and said five words that literally made history: "The winner is Sidney Poitier." Up to the stage came the most elegant man I had ever seen. I remember his tie was white, and of course his skin was black, and I had never seen a black man being celebrated like that. I tried many, many times to explain what a moment like that means to a little girl, a kid watching from the cheap seats as my mom came through the door bone tired from cleaning other people's houses. But all I can do is quote and say that the explanation in Sidney's performance in "Lilies of the Field":

"Amen, amen, amen, amen."

In 1982, Sidney received the Cecil B. DeMille award right here at the Golden Globes and it is not lost on me that at this moment, there are some little girls watching as I become the first black woman to be given this same award. It is an honor -- it is an honor and it is a privilege to share the evening with all of them and also with the incredible men and women who have inspired me, who challenged me, who sustained me and made my journey to this stage possible. Dennis Swanson who took a chance on me for "A.M. Chicago." Quincy Jones who saw me on that show and said to Steven Spielberg, "Yes, she is Sophia in 'The Color Purple.'" Gayle who has been the definition of what a friend is, and Stedman who has been my rock -- just a few to name.

I want to thank the Hollywood Foreign Press Association because we all know the press is under siege these days. We also know it's the insatiable dedication to uncovering the absolute truth that keeps us from turning a blind eye to corruption and to injustice. To -- to tyrants and victims, and secrets and lies. I want to say that I value the press more than ever before as we try to navigate these complicated times, which brings me to this: what I know for sure is that speaking your truth is the most powerful tool we all have. And I'm especially proud and inspired by all the women who have felt strong enough and empowered enough to speak up and share their personal stories. Each of us in this room are celebrated because of the stories that we tell, and this year we became the story.

But it's not just a story affecting the entertainment industry. It's one that transcends any culture, geography, race, religion, politics, or workplace. So I want tonight to express gratitude to all the women who have endured years of abuse and assault because they, like my mother, had children to feed and bills to pay and dreams to pursue. They're the women whose names we'll never know. They are domestic workers and farm workers. They are working in factories and they work in restaurants and they're in academia, engineering, medicine, and science. They're part of the world of tech and politics and business. They're our athletes in the Olympics and they're our soldiers in the military.

And there's someone else, Recy Taylor, a name I know and I think you should know, too. In 1944, Recy Taylor was a young wife and mother walking home from a church service she'd attended in Abbeville, Alabama, when she was abducted by six armed white men, raped, and left blindfolded by the side of the road coming home from church. They threatened to kill her if she ever told anyone, but her story was reported to the NAACP where a young worker by the name of Rosa Parks became the lead investigator on her case and together they sought justice. But justice wasn't an option in the era of Jim Crow. The men who tried to destroy her were never prosecuted. Recy Taylor died ten days ago, just shy of her 98th birthday. She lived as we all have lived, too many years in a culture broken by brutally powerful men. For too long, women have not been heard or believed if they dare speak the truth to the power of those men. But their time is up. Their time is up.

Their time is up. And I just hope -- I just hope that Recy Taylor died knowing that her truth, like the truth of so many other women who were tormented in those years, and even now tormented, goes marching on. It was somewhere in Rosa Parks' heart almost 11 years later, when she made the decision to stay seated on that bus in Montgomery, and it's here with every woman who chooses to say, "Me too." And every man -- every man who chooses to listen.

In my career, what I've always tried my best to do, whether on television or through film, is to say something about how men and women really behave. To say how we experience shame, how we love and how we rage, how we fail, how we retreat, persevere and how we overcome. I've interviewed and portrayed people who've withstood some of the ugliest things life can throw at you, but the one quality all of them seem to share is an ability to maintain hope for a brighter morning, even during our darkest nights. So I want all the girls watching here, now, to know that a new day is on the horizon! And when that new day finally dawns, it will be because of a lot of magnificent women, many of whom are right here in this room tonight, and some pretty phenomenal men, fighting hard to make sure that they become the leaders who take us to the time when nobody ever has to say "Me too" again. ~

{Messages from Within}

Listen to those messages from within your quiet mind and open heart:

{In Love and Sisterhood}

An Open Letter to the Governor of Alabama, Kay Ivey, and My Sorority Sister from College:

Dear Kay:

When I learned, only recently, that you are the governor of Alabama, I had the thought: What an amazing opportunity to shift the focus of leadership of modern politics from personal ambition and narrow-minded ego to a larger vision. A vision based on love and honor, respect and equality—indeed, a focus you and I pledged years ago during our college days, the essence of the sisterhood we share: “To hold truth inviolable, sincerity essential, kindness invaluable.”

I no longer live in Alabama, but memories of growing up there are dear to me, as are the family and friends who live there. Therefore, I was moved to write when I read your statements in an article from the Washington Post about Alabama senatorial candidate and accused sexual predator Roy Moore saying, if you were quoted correctly, that you would vote for the candidate because “we need to have a Republican in the United States Senate.” In other words, it’s “politics” first—before “truth, sincerity and kindness.” And although you were quoted as saying that you have “’no reason to disbelieve’ any of Moore’s accusers”—women of various backgrounds who shared their personal experiences as teenagers of being inappropriately pursued and harassed by Moore—your words suggest that you place less value on the lives of women and children than on ‘politics as usual.’

If my Alabama mother and grandmothers were still alive (women with core values of hospitality, beauty and humanity), they would not only have been appalled that this man could be representing their state and their families, but, in addition, they would have been horrified with the election last year of a self-professed sexual predator as U.S. president—a crude bully also known to be less than honest and trustworthy in his personal and business life. They would have raised the old-fashioned question of moral responsibility: How could we allow men accused of sexual misconduct on multiple accounts have the power to make decisions that will affect the lives of millions of women and children?

Men (or women who defend such abusive behavior) can no longer hide behind “Oh, that’s just how men are” or “Oh, that’s just locker-room talk”—it’s not and women aren’t putting up with that conceit anymore! Nor can we accept mean-spirited “girl talk” as the norm for women if we want a respectful and safe world for our daughters and granddaughters. I hear many people profess their “Christian beliefs” while judging or disrespecting another. How thin can someone slice their so-called “Christian beliefs” before their words and actions have nothing to do with being “Christ-like”?

“Love one another” is not always the easier thing to do; but it’s simply the right thing. When we have the courage to speak and act from our heart, then everyone wins. If we speak and act from fear and exclusion, resentment and hate, then we get the toxic world we have today. If the only remedy to fear is love, then each of us have a lot of loving to do!

Thank you, Kay, for your service. Please make it count for the well-being of all of us on this fragile and glorious planet we call home. (And I believe there is a place for our pledge of “truth, sincerity and kindness” even in the world of politics!)

In love and sisterhood,

Cornelia Powell

[Published on the Huffington Post December 7, 2017]