Week in Review

This past Wednesday was the annual Washington Area Women's Foundation Leadership Luncheon. You might remember my post about it last year. I was so inspired that despite my complete lack of comfort with soliciting money, I enthusiastically agreed to join the Host Committee for this year's event. 

The tone of this year's Luncheon was one firmly rooted in female empowerment and strength. After a week of Me Toos swirling around, it was tremendously meaningful to sit with more than a thousand women (and a few men) and celebrate our vast ability, resilience, and connectedness. I am proud that the host committee this year raised more than $860,000 for the Women's Foundation. This record amount is crucial for our wholly donor-supported organization, and I am grateful to all who lift us up. 

On Friday night, a dear friend and I headed downtown to see Tom Hanks in conversation with Ann Patchett. A curious combination, perhaps, until you find that Hanks has just published a book of short stories, Uncommon Type. 

Gorgeous night, exciting event.

He is an avid collector of vintage typewriters (he owns more than 200) and the machine has a role, from mention to major character, in each of the seventeen stories in the book. 

Meanwhile, in addition to being a prolific writer, Patchett, as you might know, owns the independent bookstore, Parnassus Books, in Nashville. She was sent an advanced copy of Hanks' book. Initially rolling her eyes over "another actor who wants to publish a book," she found that once she started reading, she couldn't stop. She noted with relief that Hanks' writing is totally unaffected in a way that feels increasingly rare these days. 

It was a delightful conversation, although my friend and I both wondered if Hanks is always so kinetic and "on" or if he was in show-mode for this event. It was at times almost exhausting to watch and listen to him. I liked Patchett a lot. Although I don't much care for her fiction, her nonfiction is brilliant and I absolutely adore it. I hoped not to have a Kingsolver experience (remember when I went to hear her speak and found her public presence not terribly appealing; sad), and I didn't.

Washington has so much to offer. Despite American politics feeling like the most depressing and toxic and devouring dumpster fire ever, this city is extraordinarily rich in so many other ways, and I feel lucky I can take regular advantage of our cultural and social justice offerings.

It has also been a week (weeks, actually) of pretty and delicious food which for me never fails to serve as balm and joy. 

pumpkin ravioli with sage brown butter and parmesan

incredibly juicy, tangy Concord grapes from a local farmers market

tomatoes from that market heading towards roasted tomato jam (an outstanding Amanda Hesser recipe)

after nearly two hours in the oven, the jam is ready to put up.

In other news, Stumptown has changed its packaging, and I'm smitten with the handsome take on a humble coffee bag. If you love coffee and grind your own beans for your morning espresso, please try Hairbender. Mamma mia. It's a worthy splurge.

And Nutmeg continues to keep watch, this time with the help of a bony friend. Oliver, who loves Halloween more than even his birthday and Christmas, is in full decorative spirit and costume planning right now. The countdown to the 31st is on! Ol told me last week, "Mamma, I know you don't love Halloween, but you always work to make it so much fun for me. Thank you." What a gift he is, and such an old soul. Tom and I are dressing up this year, and Ol is delighted. I told him that his enthusiasm is infectious, and thanks for making my life more fun. 

Me too.

If you're on Facebook, you have seen countless "Me too" status updates blanketing the landscape (on Twitter, it's #metoo). If you aren't, you may not be aware that a couple days back, in response to the Harvey Weinstein revelations and fallout, actress Alyssa Milano tweeted a note that read "Suggested by a friend: If all the women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote "Me too" as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem."

The number of affirmatives in my feed -some strong, some quiet, some timid, some furious, some resigned, some now empowered- seems to be at 99%. This number doesn't surprise me; in fact, I'm surprised that I've seen one, just one, who says she hasn't experienced harassment or assault. I am inordinately grateful for her fortune, and I hope she remains free of such a disgusting experience for the rest of her days. 

I have always felt pretty lucky in this regard. I have never been sexually assaulted, an experience that is not rare enough when you look at the ugly statistics. Actually, when I look at the statistics, I'm flabbergasted that I haven't been. It's wrenching to know that vast swaths of women have been violated with such regularity and impunity.

I have not, to any memory that I can recall, been made to feel stupid or incapable or less than for being a woman. I was raised by a father who absolutely felt my sister and I could do anything we wanted to, and I married a man who is a total feminist. I have had multiple male mentors who believed in me deeply and proudly, and for them all, I am grateful.

But I have been ogled, cat-called, and put in positions by many male bosses (in Chicago, New York, and Boston) that were and are unacceptable. Scenarios in which I was sexualized and in which their suggestive, leering looks, words, and behaviors made me exceptionally uncomfortable and pissed off. Only once can I remember feeling unsafe (again, I am profoundly lucky), but the sleazy, goosebump, hair on the back of my neck sensations were as upsetting, albeit in different ways.

It puts a woman in the position of having to keep herself safe, employed, and/or not ridiculed or demeaned further. Being in a position of unequal power when sexual overtones are blowing through the air forces women to start rapidly calculating the best way of handling a sick situation. Do I blow it off? Confront the man? Run?

And all of it sticks. Last night, I had trouble falling asleep and just a few hours in, I awoke to Tom hugging me and saying, "Honey, honey, it's just a dream. You're ok." I had been screaming out, for in my nightmare I was being assaulted and I was desperate for help. Something about seeing everyone's me toos must have lodged in my psyche, loosening the knowledge of how many of us have experienced degradation just how many times.

Like I said, I am not remotely surprised by the number of women writing "Me too" or by the number who are coming forward to share how and when they were violated by Weinstein. Just look at all who came out against Cosby. Against the grotesque being who is now our president*.

Harassment is such a regular experience in most women's lives. It's like white noise, and that is sick. Assault is stunningly common. It is about power and dominion by some over others. Those who cover it up, who pay it off, who perpetrate it, who excuse it, and who discount the women who bravely speak out are all equally culpable for perpetuating an unequal, unsafe, unsavory, obnoxious, offensive world in which too many women must live and navigate. And that is the power of this social media campaign: it shows the extent of violation and intimidation that women have been subjected to.

If you're surprised by the numbers then you need to do some reading.

If you have ever doubted women when they share their experiences with you, stop it. The numbers of false claims of assault are stunningly low. 

If you have ever acted in a way that would cause a woman to say "me too," you need to do some thinking and change your behavior. It is UNacceptable. 

If you are raising sons, it is never too early to talk about respecting others' bodies and minds. It is never too early to talk about the strength of women, the value of emotion, the importance of listening, the importance of being able to say and hear "No." Our sons must be the sort of men who would stop the Weinsteins and Cosbys and trumps of the world rather than enable, excuse, or cover for them in any way.

It shouldn't be luck that keeps us safe.

**Claims against trump:

Miscellaneous

Today was my dad's last day of work. All he has left to do is clean out his office. I'm so proud of and excited for him. And Mom! Isn't he cute?

Today was also the day trump said that he'd spoken with the president of the US Virgin Islands (um, dummy, YOU are the president of the USVI) and that we found out Rick Perry called Puerto Rico a country yesterday during the House Energy and Commerce hearing about rebuilding downed grids post-Maria.

“That is a country that already had its challenges before this storm,” Perry said.

I wonder if, when Representative Kathy Castor retorted that "It's America. They’re American citizens, so it’s not a country,” she felt murderous or flabbergasted or vaguely bemused that the Dancing With the Stars guy who once planned to get rid of the department he now heads but first forgot what it was has not gotten smarter since being confirmed for the PRESIDENTIAL CABINET.

As there is absolutely nothing good to say about the state of things in America right now, I'll move on to good food and books and a quick shout-out to the Chicago Cubs for beating the Nationals last night in the divisional playoffs. Go CUBBIES!!!!!! You can do it again! (But only if you get your bullpen in order; OMG, your pitching was weak last night).

We have been eating simply and well of late. OMG, y’all, the children are asking for something else. Grr. I will talk about food and books tomorrow.