Her Story

Herstory - a beginning; in words and images.

"She has arrived" writes Cathy Newman, author of a National Geographic article The World Through The Eyes of Women published on November 15, 2019. She is citing photographer Sisse Brimberg's response to being mistaken for a photographer's pack mule, instead of the photographer, when arriving to a 1980's photo-shoot. Out of respect to National Geographic's copyright protection policy, I will not post any of those amazing photographs here, but you can look at them via the link above, which tells the story of women photographers in a 'that was then, this is now' motif.

“the universal language of the photograph upon which this publication (and others) depended was solely a contribution of the male eye and mind.”

Those are the words of Naomi Rosenblum, a photograpy historian. More important words there have never been Naomi, thank you. And these by the author of that article.

"We are beyond the days of women depicted as decorative objects dressed in waterfalls of silk (the predictable debutante ball shot) and the assumption that the creator of the image was a man."

It's such a difficult story to tell, her story. But it is happening all around us, in fact its gushing out. It started out as a squeak, then became a hoarse whisper, and is now quite audible, even for those who can barely hear it.
There are many many more stories, images, and songs, of women, their children, their hardships, their neglect, abuse, shame, loneliness and mystery. There are so many stories poring out now that soon it will be hard not to hear them.

I myself have just been re-born into my own image, not his. Don't get me wrong, I'm not angry at him, or Him, or Her, or any of them. But some will be. And that's okay too. My story includes all the stories of women, men, and children of any colour, shape or form, of varying gender, or no gender at all, as well as of the multiplex creatures and cultures that remain intact, and of the many that have been buried, destroyed, or lost throughout history. Most importantly, I wish to tell the general story of the earth, of which I am embodying. If you have a mother, this is your story too. 

I may be arriving late in the game of feminism, but I believe there is a reason for this. It is the way of the mother. And in the way of the mother, I will tell the story slowly, in small digestible increments.

Mind over matter may be the way it appears to you now, but understanding is to know that it is you. I may be only one pair of eyes in a body, with one voice, but I am not alone. Together, we are the story. It's a tangled story, but our aim is to undo that mess, and clear the way to becoming more than the mess we are in.

And thank you Cathy, for a wonderful beginning to this story, my story, herstory.