Here is a tribute to my poet friend Sarah, who has two blogs and is the lovely wife of my longtime friend Chella. How's that for linkage?
Anyhow - with permission from Feminist Review, I am posting Sarah's contest-winning poem on my blog...which, oddly enough, was going to be about sexism. She says it so much better than I can.
I dream that no one calls me ‘clever girl’ when I am thirty.
I dream I get respect for something more than being flirty.
I dream my sexuality is beautiful, not dirty.
I dream that I am judged on more than how I do my hair.
I dream that I – not magazines – decide what’s right to wear.
I dream I walk unmocked with my unshaven armpits bare.
I dream that silenced women find their voices can be heard.
I dream no one says feminist like it’s a dirty word.
I dream that sexist language is considered quite absurd.
We dream that we are free to be exactly who we feel
We dream, not of the way things are, but of the best ideal.
We dream, and every time we dream, the dream becomes more real.
-- Sarah Thomasin