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Wonder Women


It's International Women's Day, certainly a time to reflect upon, admire and support the women in our lives and across the world. Sometimes folks scoff at these special days, or months, where we choose to focus on and celebrate gender, race and sexuality, but such occasions are often necessary, if only -- at the very least -- to remind us to appreciate the people who we inhabit this planet with.

Looking back on my life, it is the women to whom I always bonded with most often, who tended to welcome me more, who were simply more relatable. Part of that, of course, has to do with me, and the rest is down to either a quality innate to womanhood, or our particular societal gender norms. Or something else. Regardless, women are awesome (as if that needs saying, though sometimes -- unfortunately -- it does).

The women featured in the photograph at the top of this post are my kindergarten, fourth grade and first grade teachers -- Ms. Breeze, Mrs. Keller, and Mrs. Jones, respectively -- and I love them dearly. It's true that, along with the aforementioned ladies, my other elementary school teachers (Mrs. Sims and Mrs. Allen) were also women. And they were all wonderful, in their own unique way. They all  helped shape me during important, formative years, and I am forever indebted to their knowledge, kindness and insight.

I remember the family get togethers at my uncle Robert and aunt Betty's house in Weldon. The men would often gather around the television set and watch a football game or some such thing in one part of the house, while the women would gather and talk in another area. I almost always gravitated toward the women, feeling more comfortable around them. Noticing that I was the only male in the group, and societal mores being what they are (good for self-guilt), I would sometimes venture to where the guys were at. A few minutes of watching their pensive body language while looking at the television, coupled with the requisite "C'mon!" angrily shouted in the same direction, sent me straight back to the women folk.

Then there are the women I've worked with over the years, at various jobs. Even when some of them were people who -- on an individual level -- I didn't always see eye-to-eye with, they were still somehow more approachable than the men that I knew. In truth, a I've felt nervous around a majority of my male co-workers, as though I wasn't sure I could really fit in with their conversations, or that there was an unspoken chasm between us. Not so with (most) women.

And, of course, there's my mom, the ultimate woman in my life. Growing up, she was the parent I was closest with. She was sometimes my protector, sometimes my friend, at times my foe. We laughed together and argued together. She did her best to raise me, both married and as a single parent. She went back to school as a recently-divorced woman in her early-forties, and she rocked it. She made a new career for herself and excelled at it. She somehow raised my crazy self and we both survived. She has a sharp mind and a big heart. She's great.

These are my own personal thoughts about, and life experiences with, women. Overall, it's been pretty positive. Alas, no one group of people are all awesome or awful, and the female of the species are no exception. But it is true that women have almost always been good to me, and I hope I've been as good to them, though probably not. They've been -- and continue to be -- mothers, teachers, friends, family, colleagues, confidants, and so much more. And, very probably, women will save us all someday. It's just what they do.


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