Able to find offense in seemingly innocuous conversation, political event, TV programme or other entertainment written or performed and especially in interpretation of history recent or past, I am regrettably equally adept in offending others.
Not normally my aim, sometimes it is unavoidable, words once spoken prove impossible to retract. At other times, blundering ahead while squashing to near oblivion the inner voice recommending silence.
You've been forewarned.
400 Women is an exhibition honouring the hundreds of women murdered, more or less brutally in Cuidad Juarez, Mexico, since 1993. Despite women locally and internationally, protesting to the Mexican government about this atrocious example of gynocide, the Mexican government concluded its investigation claiming no federal laws had been broken, although the killers 'continue to enjoy impunity in that region'.
Women and girls are abducted, raped, murdered, missing, beheaded, unidentified, subjected to sexual violence tourism, exchanged between drug cartels, used as human sacrifices, mutilated, disappeared; aged 3 years to over 60 years. And it continues.
Tamsyn Challenger created this project which oversaw the gathering of over 100 images, descriptions of the women and girls, even forensic reports of their murder or just her name, by local and international agencies working in the area. Artists chosen for their sensitivity, were assigned a woman or a girl and the given criteria for producing an artwork commemorating her life. Each piece had to be a similar size in practially any media and 'echoing an altarpiece'.
On a comfortably sunny Edinburgh day moving from space to space in a shambolic old school, I wept my way round this most moving, heartbreaking memorial to the women and girls from so far away.
I was not alone. Numerous other middle aged women were sobbing or quietly sniffing into sodden tissues as we silently and reverently exchanged shy glances, half ashamed to be seen publicly mourning.
The comments book was too painful for me to read more than a few entries, enough to know that the writers had also been deeply affected. Exiting back into the High Street in festival time, was too jarring and I retreated home taking many hours to find some emotional balance.
If this exhibition arrives in your town, go. Not to go is an act of dishonour to the women and their families who will never find justice. Not to go is an act of encouragement to the patriarchy that glories in the spilt blood of women and girls. Witnessing and believing is an act of defiance that helps chip away at the established order that otherwise denies men's violence against women and girls.
So far, so inoffensive.
All week and especially today, oceans of emotion, acres of words, hot air incalculable even by Avogadro have been expended on the tenth anniversary of terrorist attacks on America.
Nothing can take away from the experience of shock, loss of life and injury on that day. Individual suffering, bravery and long term impact on many lives is noted and respected.
However, I'm not the only person to have spent a decade disgusted at the prolonged outcomes, by criminally stupid leaders and those whose excuse for torture and humiliation on other nationals, is that of following orders.
So much for the behaviour of some individuals from the avenging armies, it is the never-ending impact on the lives and deaths of women in Afghanistan, Iraq, Packistan and so many other countries subjected to bullying from imperialistic powers whether for oil, geopolitical influence or gratuitous display of militaristic power. It's not like they needed more patriarchy to oppress them, they had enough home grown violence. Surely, hearing that nowadays one in eight women die in childbirth in Afghanistan will provoke reflection on the efficacy of the 'peace and security' constructed by the liberating armies.
Sharing of 'where were you when you heard?' stories are everywhere. Insignificant, and exposing of my all round ignorance, though it be, I'll share mine. I had just left a pub lunch with the only person I then knew from Washington, USA, and returned to my office. Colleagues wondered why the phones were so quiet. Then we found out. I was so grateful to know that my friend was safe in an Edinburgh pub and not in his flat close to the Pentagon.
But the whole twin towers aspect, meant little to me. I'd simply never heard of them. I refuse to believe I'm the only one. And I think that unawareness has coloured my whole response to the attacks. I saw a plane flying into a tall skyscraper, not a cultural, economic icon of power. Then it happened again.
I comprehend the loss of life, as much as it is possible to do so. But I equally comprehend loss of life in other atrocities, such as that described in Mexico. I very forcefully try to comprehend why some lives are valued so much that countless more are massacred in revenge, while others, such as those above are denied, dismissed and discounted. It remains incomprehensible.
You may find that offensive. I find it rational.
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