Why Women Should Vote

I didn't write the following story - I received an email yesterday from a friend with a link to a blog with this story. So, I looked it up on Snopes as is my habit upon receiving email stories from friends and it all checked out. So I'm doing my due diligence and passing it on to all my readers:

This is the story of our Grandmothers and Great-grandmothers; they lived only 90 years ago.


Remember, it was not until 1920 that women were granted the right to go to the polls and vote.

The women were innocent and defenseless, but they were jailed nonetheless for picketing the White House, carrying signs asking for the vote.


And by the end of the night, they were barely alive. Forty prison guards wielding clubs and their warden's blessing went on a rampage against the 33 women wrongly convicted of 'obstructing sidewalk traffic.'They beat Lucy Burns, chained her hands to the cell bars above her head and left her hanging for the night, bleeding and gasping for air.


They hurled Dora Lewis into a dark cell, smashed her head against an iron bed and knocked her out cold. Her cellmate, Alice Cosu, thought Lewis was dead and suffered a heart attack. Additional affidavits describe the guards grabbing, dragging, beating, choking, slamming, pinching, twisting and kicking the women.

Thus unfolded the 'Night of Terror' on Nov. 15, 1917, when the warden at the Occoquan Workhouse in Virginia ordered his guards to teach a lesson to the suffragists imprisoned there because they dared to picket Woodrow Wilson's White House for the right to vote.

For weeks, the women's only water came from an open pail. Their food — all of it colorless slop — was infested with worms.

When one of the leaders, Alice Paul, embarked on a hunger strike, they tied her to a chair, forced a tube down her throat and poured liquid into her until she vomited. She was tortured like this for weeks until word was smuggled out to the press.

So, refresh my memory. Some women won't vote this year because — why, exactly? We have carpool duties? We have to get to work? Our vote doesn't matter? It's raining?

Last week, I went to a sparsely attended screening of HBO's new movie 'Iron Jawed Angels.' It is a graphic depiction of the battle these women waged so that I could pull the curtain at the polling booth and have my say. I am ashamed to say I needed the reminder.

All these years later, voter registration is still my passion. But the actual act of voting had become less personal for me, more rote. Frankly, voting often felt more like an obligation than a privilege. Sometimes it was inconvenient.

My friend Wendy, who is my age and studied women's history, saw the HBO movie, too. When she stopped by my desk to talk about it, she looked angry. She was **** with herself. 'One thought kept coming back to me as I watched that movie,' she said. 'What would those women think of the way I use, or don't use, my right to vote? All of us take it for granted now, not just younger women, but those of us who did seek to learn.' The right to vote, she said, had become valuable to her 'all over again.'

HBO released the movie on video and DVD . I wish all history, social studies and government teachers would include the movie in their curriculum I want it shown on Bunco night, too, and anywhere else women gather. I realize this isn't our usual idea of socializing, but we are not voting in the numbers that we should be, and I think a little shock therapy is in order.

It is jarring to watch Woodrow Wilson and his cronies try to persuade a psychiatrist to declare Alice Paul insane so that she could be permanently institutionalized. And it is inspiring to watch the doctor refuse. Alice Paul was strong, he said, and brave. That didn't make her crazy.

The doctor admonished the men: 'Courage in women is often mistaken for insanity.'

Please, if you are so inclined, pass this on to all the women you know.

We need to get out and vote and use this right that was fought so hard for by these very courageous women. Whether you vote democratic, republican or independent party - remember to vote.


History is being made.

Two Disgusting Things

My dental hygienist told me today that I have an extraordinary amount of saliva. Way more than most individuals. She showed me where my salivary glands are and said she could actually see the saliva squirting out at one point. Disgusting. But it made me feel weirdly proud at the same time. Like could I go on David Letterman with this?



Also, what's this about John McCain wanting to postpone the debate? What the mess ever. It's such a transparent plot to avoid any publicity for as long as possible. Isn't that exactly what his running mate is doing over seas, as well? They know who their base is and they know it doesn't matter what they do, they will get those votes. If they can just keep from pissing everyone else off, they might have a chance. Again - what. ever. I can't stand it. And this political piece of crap notion of suspending his campaign to go back to Washington to help solve the economic crisis? Really? It's been clear all along that he doesn't know what to do; this is obviously a ploy to take credit once the crisis is resolved...if it gets resolved. Disgusting. But, at the same time, made me feel weirdly proud that I'm not associated with such a farce.

treering

I'm averaging a post twice a month. Sad. David purchased me a couch desk deal from Rite Aid tonight for when I work on my laptop in the living room (in front of the TV) and although it looks sort of like the things I used to see when picking up my dad's medical supplies at Allied Medical, it's really quite wonderful. I can sit any way I want without my legs getting creased and hot from the heat and I don't have to balance anything. Perhaps with this, I'll have the will to live...and post more often. I doubt I'll be posting with any regularity until Lily's at least in high school.

I've been so torn lately with how much time I spend with her. I'm constantly complaining about not spending enough time but the past couple days I feel like I've actually been getting a decent amount of personal time and must say it's been a relief. I feel more relaxed and on top of things but an equal amount of guilt persists. What's that all about? My missed period?

The Cooper/Young festival was last weekend and seemed to go down well. With the exception that my husband wanted hardly anything to do with me due to the insane amount of attention he was getting and starved of, I know. His neglectful behavior was justified but it was sort of disappointing for me, nonetheless. I would never let him know that, though, for fear he would misinterpret my feelings to mean something negative directed at him and how much he deserves to finally be happy about something he's done. He totally deserves every minute of it and I couldn't be more proud and gloaty. I can't believe I actually sent an email to my entire department at work to brag about his stuff. I felt weird but couldn't resist. It's really good; look: www.treering.etsy.com. The plywood tray is my favorite: