Celebrating International Women's Day!

Hopolang introduces our International Women's Day program!

This morning I arrived to school at 6:50am... As I crossed the school compound, dressed in a white polo and cardigan, I caught the excited smiles of my Young Women's Group members- peeking out of dusty windows and rushing across the school grounds to join morning study. Decked out in mismatched whites and creams to raise awareness for violence against women, they came running to meet me at the door of the Science Lab. "We're so very excited, Madam!" "You look so sharp, 'Me Limpho!" "Look at us all looking so smart in our white!" They clamored. Their excitement was infectious.

When Assembly started that morning, I watched my girls, normally shy and scared in front of a crowd, come to the front with a clear swagger of pride and obvious glee. Over the next 20 minutes, they beautifully executed the short poetry program and prayer that we had diligently rehearsed for the past 3 weeks. Hopolang and Nkareng, from Form D, gave a rousing and inspiring introduction to the history of International Women's Day, that had female students in the crowd shouting in laughter, "Yes! Women! We are beautiful!" Afterwards, I watched quiet and timid Mathope deliver a poem entitled "A Woman's Worth" with such emotion it nearly made me cry. Then four of my Form B girls, locked hands in solidarity, as they recited one of my favorite poems- Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou.

In that moment, I watched my girls transform. As if by the flip of a switch, they managed to temporarily internalize and own their strength and beauty. Qualities I knew were there all along, buried somewhere deep beneath teenage insecurities and a culture that demands submission to the opinions, intellect, and physical needs of men. For this one day, they were more than smart, beautiful, and worthy... They believed they were.

In the midst of the program, I turned around to look at my fellow teachers. A knowing, albeit hesitant smile graced the faces of my female colleagues... Funny, amazing, loving, and confident Basotho women who had never once thought of celebrating their own femininity, until I suggested it. And while they looked on, almost as passive observers, I noticed that every single female teacher was wearing white. From head to toe, each signaled a modest, yet profound echo of agreement to the statements my girls were making in front of the entire school.

Then my gaze passed from them to the male teachers... My colleagues. My friends. Not a single one wore white today. And that's when I realized... Much in the same way that my female colleagues had shown their tentative support for International Women's Day in the color of their clothes, my male colleagues had demonstrated their apprehension, and perhaps even slight resistance to it, in their dress as well. They smiled, supported, and applauded, but did not participate. When my fellow Peace Corps Volunteer and friend, Brendan, (who lives in a neighboring village) took the stage to read a poem he'd composed to honor women, I watched momentary shock and confusion grace their faces. I smiled proudly as Brendan, a white man, whom my male colleagues proudly claim as part of "bo-Ntate" (the men), spoke about his belief that men and women are equal. That women should be respected as human beings with rights, intelligence, and strength. The incredible irony, that his 5 minute contribution to the day may have made a more profound impact on my students and faculty, than my WEEKS of behind the scenes work, was not lost on me.

Just as the subtleties of issues of gender inequality are not lost on me... Like this morning, when I arrived at school and greeted one of my colleagues. I watched his eyes, not shyly, rove over my body for an extended second. I endured his comments about how much he likes it when I wear blue jeans, and how good women always look in white. I swallowed with a false smile the burning realization that my wearing white as a statement of my human rights not to be sexually harassed or abused was completely lost on him. For him, my clothes were not making a political statement, but a sexual one.

When I think about these issues, it makes me appreciate how lucky I was to be raised in a family and country where women before me have adamantly defended, sacrificed for, and protected my freedom to vote, attend school, and contribute to the world as an equal partner. I think about how damaging it is to a human being's self-esteem to be raised in a country, culture, or family that views you as lesser, weaker, or needy. It's crippling to the human spirit in a way that eats away at you slowly, and so subtly, that you never fully realize that you're less than you could have been.

And that knowledge makes me appreciate the miracle of what I witnessed my girls do today. It makes me proud to see them take this simultaneously tiny and monumental step towards owning and respecting themselves.

It makes me proud to be a woman.

With Love from Lesotho... -Mary E.