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DISCLAIMER: For those reading this who don't know who I am and what I represent, I am in no way implying my assumptions and statements are all encompassing. I myself am an exception to many rules and don't expect everyone to fit in them either. Therefore, if you take offense to this, you've exceeded your ignoramity quota. Stop.
New Zealand was the first currently existing independent country to give women the right to vote in 1893. We didn't get it here in the states 'til 1920. It's been 90 years since then, and we've made strides in the public eye, in male dominated roles, in getting our voices out there. We're in the armed forces, science, law enforcement, construction, even the gaming community. Many consider this evidence of our strength, that we can rise above the opposition. To a point, it is, but this is more equality, and equality for women at that. This is not the strength of a woman. Let me start with an example. One of the girls I played basketball with, one of my role models to this day, was what we call a swing--played post and guard (though mainly guard). There was no doubt in the world that she was the fastest on our team, and she could keep it up for-e-ver. Speedy and crazy as they come, plus the judgment and measure to control all that energy. I remember one vicious game in particular during the state tourney my junior year when fouls were flying left and right, and the yelling fans just added to the chaos. One of their posts drove the lane, right into her, and she went down like a sack of bricks. I do mean bricks. The crack of her bones on the wooden floor shut everyone up. On the court, that is--in the ring, in the heat of the moment, in the eye of the storm. The ref was busy motioning out the foul to the bookkeepers. Our bench just stared. She got back up. And she kept playing. Strength is usually defined in terms of physical power, the capacity of what your girth and muscle can do. By looking at a person, judging the lines on their shoulders and circumference of their quads and thighs, you can calculate what is possible and impossible for them to do. It is measureable. This is different from stamina, or power over a long period of time. And it is separate from toughness, which to me is much more of a mental game. Don't forget the connotations of skill, stability, or opposition. Using only the word power to define any of those would fall woefully short of their true meanings. In the same tradition, the strength of a woman has evolved into a concept that stands apart from and yet still echoes its origins. Many females, more than some would care to admit, can outsprint, outlift, outlast a fair amount of men. Against marked physical and physiological disadvantages, against tried PROOF that it shouldn't be possible, women can perform better than men. In her book The Armored Rose, Tobi Beck touches on the psychological obstacles or 'hurdles' that women must conquer starting from a young age, as it is still a common practice for parents and peers (perhaps quite unknowingly) instill cooperation instead of competitiveness in girls. And because of a certain few days per month, we have on the whole a higher pain tolerance. The uphill battle has been with us since our formative years and will be necessary at the conclusion of this investigation. No matter the build, the force of personality and depth of character in any one woman may be overwhelming enough to stagger the most solid of confidences. The mistaken believe it requires a balance or relative gauge in order to be, because they see this as intimidation--a concept that, by definition, needs something against which to compare. My experience has found this display of power to be simple in existence. 'Intimidation' is much too specific, and it cannot satisfy other variances in description. Were the actions of my teammate intimidating? In a sense, yes, but 'intimidating' leaves out toughness and sheer iron will. Be it in the physical or metaphysical realms, the strength of a woman cannot be so easily substituted for another word that would narrow its scope of application. On the surface, my teammate was incredibly tough and willful. Complete strangers tuning into the game at that exact moment would agree. In the grand scheme of things, she showed us that just because we had made it that far, we had not earned the right to give anything less than our best effort. We weren't special--we were there to play The Game. Most of the bench had followed her progress through high school, knew her stats, recognized her mannerisms when she was tired or spot on, reveled at her feats of agility that came out of nowhere. We all got shoved around. We all remembered how our calves burned after rounds of sprints. We could all spin lengthy tales of poor sportsmanship from fans and other teams. We knew the full capacity of her insight and speed, and in that moment, we knew she was out of the game. But then she got back up. And she kept playing. The strength of a woman is condensing everything on which I've elaborated into a single point of reference. It is not like physical strength which can be increased through mechanical process, nor can it be measured. It may make the universe right itself or turn your world upside down. It can come at the start of a race or the end of a long hard day. The touch of a hand, an elevated chin, filing divorce papers, a punch to the face, arms raised in triumph, a head hung in defeat, a melody and string of lyrics--as diverse as humanity is, so too are the examples. We will undoubtedly miss chances to feel it because we cannot understand the aspects of every situation, but to counter that loss, Fate will hand us displays that make us shiver or pause without explanation, because something primal within us pays heed to such power. It is how we are able to tell the story, point out accurately "And THAT is the strength of a woman," and never, ever forget that day. |