THE VALUE OF THE TEARS OF WOMEN
There’s a major difference between values and price; the worst politicians are those who know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
And political choices, plans, manifestos, ambitions – they all come at a cost. But who pays that price? In wet tears.
In Scotland today much evidence confirms that political leaders are not in touch with those who elected them. But surely there remains hope, though we weep.
It is a laudable aim to promote and protect minorities, those minorities who cry.
Protecting and saving women and girls rights interests and safety are at the forefront of all political aims in Scotland – this isn’t purely lip service, is it? Dry your eyes?
The question is how to define ‘woman’ and how to promote the rights of ‘women.’
Single sex spaces aren’t just about clinics, wards, refuges, prisons and toilets. Sometimes in pubs and nightclubs they’re to do with women being able to confide in and help each other to recognise bullies, know the nutters to avoid or ditch, a sisterhood of understanding.
A while ago in mills and factories were shop stewards and leaders of women who argued for rights, fair wages, conditions, safety and terms which were fair and equal. A fight back against the tyranny of men in positions of power. Those trailblazers wouldn’t recognise how low we have been laid when a man can self identify as a woman and seek all women’s privileges for himself.
Men can never begin to understand what it is to be a woman. With a voice at times silenced, ridiculed or shamed. Not through lack of ability but by dint of sex – sex, not gender.
The women I know and work for have been victims of hurt, pain, assaults, victimisation, for no reason at all other than their sex. Laid low with a punch to the jaw, a fractured skull, broken arm or blackened eyes. If our Scottish Government considers that it’s fly, cute, sleekit or clever to sell out Scotland’s women to men with fetishes or psychiatric issues, then they underestimate the price of our tears at their peril.