Women In Power, Women in Politics

Last night I went to an event called ‘Women in Power.’ I wasn’t sure what to expect outside of knowing that there would be wine (yey), some presenters, and that it was a political event. I arrived, talked with some women who shared their experiences, and my confusion as to why we were there. When the presenters started it became clear that we were there so that we could be encouraged or groomed into entering politics in some way, and that the need for more committed, dedicated women who were willing to take the chance and run for office (at any level) is huge. Not shocking to me, knowing that women are severely underrepresented in all levels of politics even though we make up of a little more than half of the population. I’m still confused as to how I ended up on the guest list, but I am going to take it as a sign, that I need to get more involved, which is something that I have been entertaining for a while.

The first presenter was Minister Theresa Oswald and as she was speaking, about her own experience, and experiences that many women in positions of power, in politics, experience, it seemed a bit like a stand-up comedy bit. When she detailed the challenge of juggling many roles, of being late as you drop your kids off at school having stayed up late baking a perfect batch of cookies for their bake sale, while on the phone to ensure your parents’ home care has been arranged and they are being looked after, while trying to at the same time ensure that your constituents are represented and the budget you are trying to pass is a strong one, while having to work harder, show up before and stay later then your male counterpart, go home and run a household, raise your children, and maybe if there is time afterwards and you aren't too tired, have sex with your husband laughter erupted. She discussed her first experience with politics began when she was dating the then Minster of Education, and had the thought “I don’t want to be sleeping with the Minister of Education; I want to BE the Minister of Education.” Much to my amusement she also mentioned the importance of comfortable footwear and the absurdity of wearing heels which are a form of footwear I have sworn off forever.

For me, it wasn't funny, although I can understand her intention was to keep the conversation lighthearted. It was soul crushingly depressing. Because it's not funny, it's not comical. For me, that's the reality that I will face if I want to be successful outside of my home, if I want, one day to enter into politics...and who do I have to look up to? The statistics are depressing and the female role models are few and far between because the barriers for women to enter into the political realm are vast and they are steep.

One women I spoke of, who is an entrepreneur and single mother said that after fighting all day, to be heard, to be acknowledged, to grow her business and take care of her family she fights tooth and nail and that she is too tired to attend additional committee meetings, or task forces and just does not have the energy at the end of the day to focus on the bigger picture. Another woman explained that when she had started teaching in the 1970s her colleagues had to resign if they got pregnant, and would need to re-apply and hope they got hired back if they were to take any type of leave. Theresa Oswald spoke of being the first female sitting cabinet minister to become pregnant and no maternity leave policy being in place. I thought of my own experience and even though my father was helpful, understanding and an active feminist, my mom was still alone. My mother still had to fill in the gaps, have her pension and her career suffer, give up her individuality and independence and in turn was titled ‘mother.’ I want more than that. I don’t want to ever stop being Delaney in order to be a mother. I don’t want my title to be so simply reduced to one word that replaces everything else that I have worked up to that point for, while my partner (if there is one) is able to hold on to all of his titles, attributes, and accomplishments while adding one more badge of pride, ‘Dad.’

I shared stories of the covert sexism and misogyny that I had faced in University while participating in student politics. Talked about we are subconsciously taught to behave and think a certain way from the day we are born, and how over the last few years I had been un-learning, un-packing, and re-learning some of the messages so engrained. Why is it necessary to sit back and wait for my partner to propose to me in order to enter into a new chapter of our commitment together? Does it not make more sense that it is a conversation we are both involved in, both participate in and agree to. It seems to that conversation (or lack of) can and will set the tone for our marriage if there is to be one.

In speaking with my partner after returning home, who is by the way caring, compassionate, and generally very understanding of some of the struggles and frustrations I face, but still privileged in that he is a man and will never have to endure some of the treatment that I have, asked what some of the speakers identified as barriers for women entering politics. I told him that I didn’t need a political speaker to spell the barriers out to me. I knew. I know. I know what prevents women from getting involved an engaged in politics, in positions of power. Because I’ve felt them, and experienced them first hand, and every time I do, it’s a reminder that there is no gender equality. That I may have the right to vote, wear pants and work outside of the home, but that every damn day I have to fight to show up and be heard. Have to fight harder, longer, and more eloquently to be valued and respected. Have to make less mistakes, be more sure of myself, and that even so, my physical appearance and how well I take care of my family and my home will always be more valued then my ideas, my opinions and what I have accomplished professionally. That my brothers, and my partner will be respected and valued simply by being present, but that more will always be expected of me because I have boobs.

It’s bleak out there. It’s going to be, and is tough. It’s a man’s world and that is a fact. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t connect with other like-minded women, that I can’t continue to challenge my own ideas and understandings, and that I can’t continue to show up and fight every day so that maybe one day a girl will be able entertain the idea of a political career and have plenty of role models to choose from.

Fighting back,
Delaney C

Connection is the true state of being

It seems that whenever I need, as in really really need a message, a sign from something greater than I, bigger then me...well, there it is.

I spent yesterday morning wandering around downtown Winnipeg, weaving in and out of streets with no real destination. Just needing to focus on placing one foot in front of the other. One foot. Then the other. Repeat. Repeat. The crisp air made my cheeks rosy but kept my head clear. When thoughts would creep in I pushed them out "Whoosh". Focusing on one foot. Left. Then right. Left. Right. And that was exactly what I needed.

I spent the evening thinking, sleeping, and dazed. And I think that's what I needed as well. I kept coming back to, "what's the point?" Why get close to people, develop relationships with people, if this is the kind of pain you feel when they are no longer there. Why? I thought about locking up all my loved ones, my nearest and dearest, in a room so that they couldn't get hurt. So I wouldn't have to hurt. I thought about cutting ties with everyone I know and love so that I never have to go through this again, and so they don't have to go through it if I were to get hurt, or die.

This morning I went to CrossFit and got a little bit of perspective. I was humbled by how far I have come, and how much further I have to go. Gasping for air putting one foot in front of the other, huffing and puffing, not letting myself stop or give up but still struggling the entire time. Nothing like getting physically destroyed to give you a little perspective and feel relatively small and insignificant.

When I got back to my apartment I turned on the radio and heard "Connection is the true state of being." As though Jian was speaking only to me. "We might not always remember that. We may feel powerless in the face of a world of problems but really we need to give our share to humanity the awareness the attention it deserves in order to start seeing things clearly. Surely that is the least we can do." And that was exactly what I needed to hear, was exactly the sign I needed to make today a new day. To get to work and put one foot in front of the other, again and again, until today is tomorrow. And until this gets easier.

Life is hard. It's tough. In one moment you can have all the air pulled out of your lungs, scared to take another breath, feeling like the stars are falling down all around you. When people leave us it reminds us of the horribleness that exists in every day. It reminds us that life is fleeting and short, which is something we don't always like to admit. It reminds us of all the times we've said angry words out of desperation and frustration and all the days in which we haven't laughed, or loved with our full and open hearts. And that is a sobering feeling.

But life is also stunningly beautiful and marvelous. It truly is an amazing experience sharing the world, sharing your life with others whom you grow to know, connect with, and who become a part of your life. I do have many wonderful, inspiring, and amazing people in my life and as Jian reminded me "connection is the true state of being." It's why we find so much satisfaction in our lives, in our jobs, in our relationships...all that connecting. Feeling as though you are a part of something, being aware, and attentive, and giving it all we've got. Life is much more beautiful, meaningful and satisfying when its shared. And that's why I can't get rid of all the people I care for, can't ask them to live in a box so that I never have to feel loss or pain again. Because we are made to connect. To share our lives, and our love with each other.

It will be hard. I'm scared. I'm worried. For my friends and family that are also feeling this loss. But I know that it will get easier, whether we want it to or not. Our hearts will heal. We will have each other. As long as we keep moving our feet, one after another. Left, right, left right.



With an open heart,
Delaney C.

Tug-of-War

There is a German word, Fernweh, which means "crave for travel; being homesick for a place you've never been." What a beautiful word that so accurately describes how I find myself feeling more often than not these days, and have for the majority of my life.

Even as a young child I was inquisitive, thoughtful, always thinking and always imagining what was happening in other people lives, in other places, in other cultures, and how exciting it was to catch just a glimpse. I’ve been so lucky in my short 24 years to be able to have seen and experienced some of the things that I have. To have had the opportunities to travel to corners of the earth not plagued by mainstream tourism, to speak with locals about serious issues effecting their livelihoods, to work and collaborate with respected local organizations working with people in the area to change the future of their own countries, and to be able to focus on the moment at hand.

A year ago I decided that I would try something new. I would put down some roots, make some commitments, take some chances, not go anywhere for a while, and see what would happen. A grand experiment with my life so to speak. It’s been challenging, more challenging than I first expected to ‘stay put.” I find my mind wandering constantly, to the next adventure, to the next far away place, back to the places I’ve been, and the friend’s I’ve made.

I re-signed a lease on an apartment for the first time, meaning I’ve made a commitment to ‘stay put’ for at least another year, and while on one hand its comforting knowing that I have a place to lay my head, a stable long term job that I love, and a circle of friends that add so much my life I can’t help but feel that part of me (a very important part of me) lays dormant and in wait for the next time I can dust off my backpack and jump into the unknown.

I’m happiest when I am pushed out of my comfort zone. When I’m forced to try to make sense of what’s going on and have been given very little clues. I love the rush that comes from trying to figure out new surroundings, new people, trying new foods with names you can’t pronounce, overhearing new languages, new scents, and new environments.

I’ve been trying to keep busy in Winnipeg. Volunteering with community events (Jazz Festival, Fringe Festival) and community organizations (Elizabeth Fry Society) which has kept my monsters at bay as there is always something going on, something new to learn, and something new to see, however it hasn’t helped me find a balance, and I feel that as soon as I stop packing every day with excitement and high energy activity I’ll book a one way plane ticket to Istanbul and not look back (for at least 6 months anyways).

In the next year, I will become more comfortable with what is familiar. With what I know. With routine. I will work on finding a balance, on slowing down, on appreciating ‘down time.’ I will continue to actively participate in my community, to learn the finer nuances of my job, and to find ways to explore and adventure in my own back yard.



"If you learn to love, you might love life"
Delaney C

Have Fun When You Can. Think All the Time.

A good friend told me "Have fun when you can, think all the time." Makes sense to me. Thinking, questioning everything, acquiring knowledge, insights, and gaining perspective all help us contextualize the world around us and are some of [if not] the most useful tools we have at our disposal to change the things we dont like around us, into something that might not be perfect, but something that we can live with.

"Have fun when you can, think all the time"