October 2017 WATERritual: Reclaiming Our Voices in an Age of Violence – WATER – Womens Alliance for Theology, Ethics and Ritual

October 2017 WATERritual

Reclaiming Our Voices in an Age of Violence

By Diann L. Neu and the WATER Staff

Preparation

Put #MeToo posters around the room. Gather rosemary sprigs and a bowl of water. Place as many lit candles as you wish on your altar.

Call to Gather

We gather tonight during National Bullying Prevention Month and Domestic Violence Awareness Month and in the midst of #MeToo movement to raise up women worldwide who resist bullying, abusive rhetoric, harassment, and violence present in our societies today.

In this WATERritual, “Reclaiming Our Voices in the Age of Violence,” we will challenge one another to speak out because only together can we create a world free from violence and fear. We will mourn those who have died because of domestic violence. We will honor those who have survived and are breaking silence to tell their stories, and we will pray for healing.

Naming Our Circle

Say your name, where you are geographically, and speak a word of healing.

Song: “Sanctuary” by Carrie Newcomer https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HjOioWTVAl4

Will you be my refuge
My haven in the storm,
Will you keep the embers warm
When my fire’s all but gone?
Will you remember
And bring me sprigs of rosemary,
Be my sanctuary
‘Til I can carry on
Carry on.
Carry on.

This one knocked me to the ground.
This one dropped me to my knees.
I should have seen it comin’
But it surprised me.

In a state of true believers,
On streets called us and them,
It’s gonna take some time
‘Til the world feels safe again.

You can rest here in Brown Chapel,
Or with a circle of friends,
A quiet grove of trees
Or between two bookends.

Listen To Women’s Words

Readers put rosemary into bowl of water after each.

Tarana Burke, Originator of the #MeToo Movement

From CNN, “An activist, a little girl and the heartbreaking origin of ‘Me Too’” October 2017

Tarana Burke, program director for Brooklyn-based Girls for Gender Equity, was a youth camp director when a young girl asked to speak to her privately.

“For the next several minutes this child … struggled to tell me about her ‘stepdaddy’ or rather her mother’s boyfriend who was doing all sorts of monstrous things to her developing body. … I was horrified by her words, the emotions welling inside of me ran the gamut, and I listened until I literally could not take it anymore … which turned out to be less than five minutes. Then, right in the middle of her sharing her pain with me, I cut her off and immediately directed her to another female counselor who could ‘help her better.’”

Burke said she never forgot the look on the girl’s face.

“The shock of being rejected, the pain of opening a wound only to have it abruptly forced closed again — it was all on her face,” she wrote.

“I couldn’t help her release her shame, or impress upon her that nothing that happened to her was her fault. I could not find the strength to say out loud the words that were ringing in my head over and over again as she tried to tell me what she had endured. …

“I watched her walk away from me as she tried to recapture her secrets and tuck them back into their hiding place. I watched her put her mask back on and go back into the world like she was all alone and I couldn’t even bring myself to whisper … me too.”

That was the genesis of the movement — to help young women of color who had survived sexual abuse, assault and exploitation.

“On one side, it’s a bold declarative statement that ‘I’m not ashamed’ and ‘I’m not alone.’ On the other side, it’s a statement from survivor to survivor that says ‘I see you, I hear you, I understand you and I’m here for you or I get it.”