A fellow plus-size festie and I co-facilitated a workshop called the Bountiful Grrls' Gathering, based on a thread I'd created on the Michfest bulletin board. The BGG is a place where womyn of all sizes can gather to discuss body image, weight, exercise, plus-size issues, etc. One thing I've learned as an occasional attendee of support group meetings for compulsive overeaters is that womyn everywhere have body image issues. I really thought, for the longest time, that skinny girls simply had it made, that it was only me and the kerjillion other round girls on the planet that had problems. Skinny girls didn't have to deal with not fitting into seats at concert arenas or movie theatres or booths in restaurants. Skinny girls didn't have to wear "Husky" jeans from Sears when they were in grade school. Skinny girls got the attention from boys and girls that I didn't get. Therefore, my brain rationalized, they didn't have problems, which is, of course, not true. So when I created the thread, I made sure every womon knew she was welcome.
The thread blossomed and womyn opened up about difficulties they had in bodies deemed unacceptable by society. Some slim womyn poked their heads in and posted. Lots of womyn lurked and just read the words that my bountiful sisters and I posted.
My friend and I worked our plush butts off getting things ready for the workshop. We made body affirmation cards and made a BG first aid kit, including colorful erasers to rid ourselves of past mistakes, "mirrors" made of mylar tissue paper to remind ourselves that we're beautiful, and Hershey's Kisses so that every womon would leave the workshop with a kiss. The piece de resistance was a BG workshop soundtrack which included body-positive songs such as Salt -n- Pepa's I Am the Body Beautiful, Anthony Hamilton's Sista Big Bones, and Mika's Big Girl (You are Beautiful).
We made 25 gift bags and had 26 participants. Womyn gathered and talked and laughed and cried. One womon's story sticks with me. She got angry and teared up when she discussed confronting her father about scolding his granddaughter, her daughter, about getting seconds at a family gathering when he hadn't singled out any other grandchild. I recognized the heat and passion in her voice and I applaud her courage and conviction. Maybe that little girl will never have to endure some of the hardships her mother and countless others, myself included, have faced because of our size. I've had people moo at me in public and I spent my elementary school years with children running away from me because they were afraid I would sit on them. I created the BG thread and co-facilitated the workshop to further rid myself and others of pain I knew we'd all been carrying far too long.
Before we got to the meat -- pun intended -- of the workshop, however, we all hustled from the canopy we were sitting under out to the roadside to watch the Butch Strut, a parade of butch womyn in their finery. Hordes of strong women strode by in leather or chaps or topless or a combination of all three -- and more. I looked down the road and saw my femme friend Dragonfly coming towards me in full leather. My mouth dropped open. A woman wearing an all-white sailor's uniform walked beside her. I wrapped my arm around Dragonfly's waist and, a moment later, engaged in a liplock with the sailor. My friend, never without her digital camera, got a picture. It was a present-day take on the famous Life photograph where the sailor returning from WWII dips a nurse and plants a huge smooch on her. I think the best part was when we parted and I looked at the sailor and she smiled and looked quite gribfrazzled. She walked away, I ran my fingers lightly across my mouth, and 25 (or so) femmes headed back to the canopy to continue the workshop.
A day or so later, I was riding the open-air shuttle around the land, headed, I believe to a concert. A woman who had attended the workshop hustled up to me at a shuttle stop and pressed something into my hand, saying she'd been looking for me. I looked down and gasped. She gave me a goddess necklace and the card inside the package identified the figure as a Healer. The inscription on the card said the healer becomes the healed. I put the necklace on right then and there and haven't taken it off once. Magic.
1 comment:
That's beautiful stuff.
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