A Woman’s Worth

While I am disinterested in taking any cues from JD Vance, I will admit his musings about a woman’s worth being tied to the output of her womb have really gotten under my skin. The idea that your value in society is measured by what comes out of your uterus instead of what you put into the world is so off the mark. And is so disrespectful of the countless women who have created a better world not just because of who they birthed, but how they cared for those children, for other people’s children, and for the world around them. It is disrespectful of the women who moved mountains, ran towards crisis instead of away from it, stretched their arms wider than their wingspans - too often at great personal cost - to mother a world that frequently gave little back to them. Who made magic, built and created and willed things into existence. Who maybe birthed children or maybe never did, either from choice or circumstance.

So let’s get under his skin, shall we? One thing we have learned from Kamala Harris’ nascent but seismic presidential campaign is that her joy and laughter drives Vance and his ilk fairly bonkers. The celebratory nature of her events is really setting MAGA teeth on edge. Adding a man to the ticket who demonstrates a commitment to supporting women and trans/nonbinary folks has made them even more apoplectic.

So today I celebrate women. I celebrate their intrinsic worth, their work, and also their right to rest.

I celebrate Brittney Griner, Sha’Carri Richardson, Imane Khelif, Simone Biles - women who were maligned and literally imprisoned, abused in ways that only women of color experience, who then climbed on top of a medal podium to accept their gold and their flowers. And I celebrate Simone Biles again for stepping away when she needed to, deciding to care for herself in spite of the mountain of vitriol she faced. I celebrate the women who face hate when they win and then face hate when they don’t.

I celebrate women who survived the unthinkable. They lost the children they birthed to the ongoing (and preventable) scourge of gun violence and then went on to give birth to programs that build peace. They gave from their hearts to challenge systems and change policies and provide services that would stop other mothers from having to experience the searing pain of loss.

I celebrate my friend who may not have given birth to children of her own but cared for countless children through programs that built peace through hip hop, basketball tournaments, and community events. A woman who has mentored so many young people it seems that half of Boston calls her auntie.

I celebrate the girls and young women who are marching, advocating, agitating, and hollering at the top of their lungs to regain rights that their mothers had but are now denied to them.

I celebrate the women who leave home behind, fleeing violence and poverty to seek a better life for their families. Facing treacherous journeys and uncertain futures, they run towards a hope of peace and security, landing in a country that promises opportunity too often delivers hate and pushback from those who choose to demonize them.

I celebrate the women who speak loudly, laugh heartily, and dance with abandon. I celebrate women who move through the world quietly, but whose actions create ripples of impact.

I celebrate every woman who has shaped, supported, challenged, and affected me. The women who have brought me joy, cried with me, called me in, amplified me, and showed up for me in more ways than I can ever count.

And I celebrate Melanie Sierra, my best friend’s mom, who we lost a few weeks ago. A woman whose worth was immeasurable, whose laugh I can still hear, and whose smile I still see - particularly when I look at my best friend. A woman who lived with both joy and pain, who held both her history and hope for the future. Someone who embodied the complexities of women’s experiences in this society. A woman who I was grateful to know, and who I will miss.

What JD Vance will forever fail to grasp is that none of us can or should be seen through just one lens, or measured through just one variable. We are not one dimensional, but multilayered and often messy, and that every single woman should be celebrated for who she is and not just what she produces.

And on this auspicious morning, as we are about to nominate a woman for the highest office in the land, I celebrate the messiness, the complexity, the needs and wants and challenges and successes of women. With joy, appreciation, and dreams for the future of this country. A country that will soon be led by a woman, because we women will make it so.