women in black and the body politic
by lisa sarasohn

Five o’clock, Friday evenings, for nearly two years: women cross Patton, College, Biltmore, and Broadway, stepping into the public park surrounding Vance Monument in the center of Asheville’s downtown. A line materializes—an arc of women dressed in black, standing in silence, facing west.

The women unfurl and raise a banner bearing two figures of women grieving and the words “Women in Black.” Another vigil has begun. One woman speaks briefly to passersby who express their interest, offering them a flyer with explanatory information.

The women stand for one hour. At six o’clock, they take down and roll up the banner and hold hands in a circle. Each speaks her name in turn. The women sing a song of peace, then depart, crossing Broadway, Biltmore, College, and Patton on their way home.

Two capital letters, a banner, a web site, and the print on half a sheet of paper are all that formally distinguish Asheville’s Women in Black. Women in Black is not an organization; it is a way of mobilizing women.

What are these women up to? The half-page flyer states:

We stand in silent vigil in public squares dressed in black to represent our sorrow. We stand together against the violence of war, against rape, against the everyday violence and human rights abuses suffered by women, children and men. We stand in vigil as a collective expression of grief and dissent against the violence done to the natural world and the interconnected web of life.We invite all women to stand with us in silent reflection about ourselves and in solidarity with all who have been raped, tortured and killed. We stand for those who have been disappeared, whose homes have been demolished, whose loved ones have been maimed or murdered in violent acts, for the imprisoned, for the soldiers and for the civilians—for all those caught in the cycle of violence. Through the power of silent witness we call for its end.

Asheville’s Women in Black participate in a worldwide network of women taking a public stand for peace with justice. Beginning in Israel in 1988, Women in Black have since expanded to more than twenty countries. In 2001, on behalf of the global network, Israeli and Serbian Women in Black received the nomination for the Nobel Peace Prize.

As in other cities throughout the United States, Asheville’s Women in Black began in the aftermath of September 11, 2001. Two months after the tragedies of that day, more than forty women dressed in black and gathered in Pack Square, standing in silence and holding handmade signs calling for the end to every kind of violence.

Seasoned activist Anne Craig, one of the initiators of Asheville’s Women in Black, says: “I can no longer ‘do’ meetings or organize groups, something I used to thrive on. Women in Black spoke to me as something I could do and it is so different, so unique.”

Arida Emrys speaks of her reasons for standing with Women in Black: “There was a pregnant opportunity after 9/11 to respond in a non-violent way, to respond with compassion. I wanted to take a public stance, but I couldn’t do protest. I didn’t want to say ‘no’ to anything. That only continues the separation, the polarization that fuels violence.”

Like Arida, Nancy Herman has been standing with Women in Black from the beginning. She appreciates that Women in Black are inclusive: “A victim of domestic violence might be standing next to a pacifist opposed to all war. They might not necessarily agree, but the silence enables us to attract all kinds of people. Our silence creates cohesion.”

Clare Hanrahan, a regular participant in the vigils, elaborates on the power of silence: “We stand in silence because mere words cannot express the tragedy that wars and hatred bring. Our silence is a visible strength....”

Arida adds: “Women in Black is about solidarity. Standing with other women is empowering. I sense I’m part of a community of women worldwide. I feel hopeful; we’re not alone.”

The number of women taking part in the weekly vigils has varied from four to fifty. “The heart of it,” says Anne Craig, “is that women know that someone will be vigiling, even if they can’t come on a particular Friday.”

Whatever their numbers, Women in Black have stood in solidarity and silence at Vance Monument through rain, cold, heat, snow—and the city’s attempt to close the public park to peaceable assembly. On March 28, 2003 more than forty women gathered at the site. “The police warned each of us that if we didn’t leave we’d be arrested for trespassing,” says Anne. “Ten of us chose to remain and were arrested.”

Reflecting on the public outrage following the arrests she says, “I am amazed that such a simple action as vigiling has affected people.... Shortly before the action [challenging the park closure] I was thinking that vigiling was stupid, that it had no effect. What kind of fool did I look like standing there? And then, they closed Vance and it became so clear to me that what we were doing did have meaning.”The city has since reopened Vance Monument to public gatherings, requiring a permit and fee for groups numbering more than twenty [see sidebar for references to related information].

Women in Black continue weekly vigils on the site. In Nancy Herman’s words, “It’s a small something I can do.”I’ve been standing with Women in Black since April of this year. In some moments, tears have wet my face as I’ve grieved particular deaths and particular atrocities. In many moments, I’ve felt elated. I’m grateful for the opportunity to take a public stand in a powerful, dignified way in company with other women.This is how I understand the power of Women in Black:Years ago, when I was practicing bodywork, I placed my hand on my client’s sacrum—the triangular bone at the base of the spine, the center of the body’s downtown district, so to speak. Immediately, I felt frustration, anger, immobility, impotence; the muscle tissue underneath my hand felt locked tight, stubborn, resistant to change.

My turbulent feelings evened out into compassion. Speaking silently to this woman’s body, transmitting the message through the firm yet gentle touch of my palm, I acknowledged: “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to help you.”

In that instant, the tissue under my hand became supple, yielding, soft. And within this context of not-doing, this process of simply being-with, her tissue and my hands moved together, enabling her pelvis to return to balance and functionality.

The presence of Women in Black speaks a similar, silent message to the body politic. We don’t know how to fix the pain. Still, we are willing to feel. With a firm yet tender touch, we are willing to be present with the suffering that violence imposes. We put our bodies on the line, willing to enact the curve of compassion that invokes the presence of peace.

Lisa Sarasohn is asking “What is women’s power for peace-making?” as part of her larger inquiry into the life-affirming, pro-creative powers centered in our bellies. For further information, visit honoringyourbelly.com or email Lisa at bellyqueen@earthlink.net.

Sidebar: WOMEN IN BLACK
. . . in NORTH CAROLINA
Asheville Anne Craig, wib@main.nc.us; main.nc.us/wibFridays, 5-6 pm at Vance Monument, Pack Square

Boone Sally Atkins, atkinsss@appstate.eduFridays, 1 to 2 pm on the steps of the Jones House Community Center, King Street

Chapel Hill Mary Lou Leiser Smith, mloupwj@nc.rr.compeace-with-justice.org; As scheduled, often in response to specific events

Hendersonville Jackie Knable, Jhknable1@aol.comFridays, noon to 12:30 in front of the Historic Court House, Main Street

Southern Pines Bonnie Klein, bogeoklein@yahoo.comThursdays, 10:30 to 11:30 am in front of Post Office, 190 SW Broad St,

. . . in SOUTH CAROLINA
Hilton Head Sue Ellen Manning, suellenmanning@yahoo.comSaturdays, 9:30 to 10 am at the library on Route 278; meet 9:15 am in the library parking lot
. . . and in TENNESSEE
Knoxville Brenda Bell, msbsbell@yahoo.com; Carol Nickle, cnickle@esper.com; korrnet.org/wibTuesdays, noon to 12:45, Duncan Federal Building, corner of Locust and Cumberland

For related information:Women in Black New York [ womeninblack.net ]

“City cites war protests in ban on Vance Monument gatherings” Asheville Citizen-Times cgi.citizen-times.com/cgi-bin/story/31501

“Women In Black arrested in Vance monument shutdown" Asheville Global Reportagrnews.org/issues/220/#women

“The freest speech money can buy” Mountain Xpress mountainx.com/opinion/2003/0514editorial.php