Is it sad that we have to declare today "International Women’s Day"?
I just know that the empowered people who find my blog through the above link are going to be disappointed that a fellow woman is turning her back on the "let’s celebrate women" machine. But allow me to explain myself:
Sure, sure, there are days for celebrating and memorializing everything, but the whole concept just rings so false, you know?
Let’s parse it for a brief second:
International.
Women’s.
Day.
"International," I realize, is there to remind us that there is a global village of women. So we’re not just celebrating American women, say. But if we have to be clarified on this point…. aren’t we kind of patronizing those we’re celebrating?
"Women’s"— Okay. That alienates men, children (girls are not women, not yet), and even technically, the transgendered. I think the only bright point is that they didn’t spell it "womens’" or some other atrocious iteration of the word.
"Day": What, just one? If we’re going to be all up in the world’s collective ass celebrating women, it would seem fitting that we’d celebrate them for longer. You know, like a month? (Oh wait– March is like "Women’s Month" or something, right?) Which makes me digress to Black History Month– why did they pick the short month to celebrate it anyway? That’s kind of messed up, you know. Does anyone actually know?
The colors (yes, there are colors) for International Women’s Day are purple, white, yellow and green. Because apparently, pink sucks. Either that or because pink means breast cancer or something like that. Why pick colors, though? I am starting to get confused with all these "cause" colors and ribbons. Can’t we just stick to black-and-white advertising?
Am I jaded? You betcha.
But I am actually serious: why do we need a day (or even a month) to do something that should be in the forefront of our minds every day? Just because we decide to hold a cute little rally today or paint our faces purple, violence across the world isn’t just going to lay down like a worm-ridden dog and die, people.
Women should respect each other, and men, and children (and pets, and et cetera) EVERY DAY. Every day there should be people actively trying to end injustice, and every day there should be people realizing that the sexes are not biologically equal but they can and should be equally respected.
Because it’s not about genitalia: it’s about respect. And respect should be at the core of everyone’s everyday life. And seriously, I don’t see "International Respect For Humanity Day" penciled in anyone’s calendar.
Because it doesn’t exist, now does it? I thought so.
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Incidentally, there is "International Respect For Chickens Day" which while a bit odd is definitely a step forward in respecting our feathered friends (I particularly respect mine breaded and with honey mustard sauce on the side). But seriously– a couple of searches courtesy of Google only reveal some schools celebrating a "Day of Respect" which if I remember correctly from my teaching days, is a real step in the right direction because it consists of speakers from all different walks of life coming to talk to young people and convince them that they are not just a label, but that they are humans as well.
Alas, I also remember that most students tended to be rather flighty and got annoyed because many of the speakers tended to be rather boring (unfortunately).
*sigh*
But…. maybe lots of tiny steps in the right direction is the way to go.
So here is my tiny step: From yours truly here at A Daily Dose of Zen Sarcasm, I wish you a happy International Women’s Day.
Instructions: Go kiss/hug/snuggle/praise the women in your life, even if it’s just your mommy. What am I saying?! Do this ESPECIALLY if your mommy is the only woman in your life. Tell them you’re happy they are alive. Love them every day, especially on days when they are not particularly lovable because there is a high likelihood that they need to be loved in those days the most.
And please, pleeeeeeeease: repeat this as often as you can. The niceness of the world depends on this.
A Daily Dose of Zen Sarcasm! 
The reason for a day is the same reason there’s a day for Valentine’s, Mother’s, Father’s, Grandparents, Remembrance, Secretary’s, etc. It’s to nudge people out of the daily grind with a reminder that there are still issues that need to be solved greater than where their dirty socks went.
It is a shame that there has to be a day (or many days) to remind people to be thankful for the people in their lives and to remind them that not everyone is loved and respected and treated with the dignity we all deserve. Perhaps it should be treated the same as manners and taught to our children at an early age so they grow up with the concepts deeply ingrained. Then again, there are a lot of people who don’t have good manners to teach their children. So we have to get the message across in whatever way we can.
*hugs* Thanks for being part of my life. You can usually bring a smile or chuckle to me with your bloq or provide me with some place to spout my thought-provoking rebuttals 🙂
The first thing I thought of when you mentioned the colors was bruising. Purple, green, yellow. Does that speak volumes? Maybe I’m just watching the one above my son’s knee as it goes through its weird cycle of healing, but still, odd choices for the day. I guess they had to pick something, and everyone’s a critic. Now it’s going to bother me. Along with the whole, “it’s a day for something day!” mentality.
I’m with you, once it’s that big and institutional, it seems goofy.
I also always wondered why Black Hist. Month was Feb instead of March. “Because March is women’s!” Because that’s logic…
from wikipedia:
Black History Month was established in 1976 by The Association for the Study of Afro-American Life and History.[1] The month-long celebration was an expansion of Negro History Week, which was established in 1926 by Carter G. Woodson, director of what was then known as the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History. Woodson selected the week in February that embraced the birthdays of both Frederick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln.