Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #feministhistory, aggregated by home.social.
PASST DAS GEFÜHL? ist diese Woche noch zu sehen am ✨Do 01./ Fr 02. / Sa 03.10. - 20 Uhr✨
Nächste Woche geht es dann weiter mit dem NFT-Gastspiel SPUCKEN WIR AUF HEGEL! - Barletti / Waas
Eine Szenische Lesung verbunden mit einem Essen
:femin: 09. und 10. Oktober – 20 Uhr
Mit dem Manifest der italienischen Feministin Carla Lonzi fragen Lea Barletti und Werner Waas was ist Gleichberechtigung innerhalb einer patriarchalen Welt?
#freiestheater #flensburg #feminismus #feministhistory #philosophie
The Seventh Chair – Kirst D’Raven
The invitation had been very specific.
Dinner. Seven o’clock. Come as you are.
There had been no address or date, which was inconvenient to say the least. Nevertheless, at precisely seven o’clock, Florence Nightingale opened a door that had not been there a moment ago and walked into the dining room. She paused, taking in the six women already seated around the long dining table. Seven chairs. Two were empty.
“Late,” said a woman with a magnificent quantity of hair and the expression of someone who had personally invented punctuality.
Florence eyed the clock on the mantlepiece. It said seven.
“I am precisely on time.”
“Then the clock is wrong.”
Florence regarded the woman coldly.
“I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“No. I’m Beatrix.”
“Potter?”
Beatrix sighed.
“Yes.”
Florence removed her cloak.
“I’ve read your books.”
Beatrix’s expression softened slightly.
“Thank you.”
“My sister liked the rabbit.”
It hardened again.
Across the table somebody snorted. She was small, neat and formidable looking, with the sort of eyes that suggested very little escaped them.
“Maria Dickin,” she said. “Sit down before the soup gets cold.”
Florence sat. The dining room was peculiar. Not unpleasant. Just peculiar. A fire crackled in a stone fireplace although Florence could not remember seeing a chimney from outside.Then again, she couldn’t remember seeing an outside. There were no windows. There were paintings on the walls, but whenever she tried to examine them properly, she found herself looking somewhere else. The table was laid with white linen, silver cutlery and seven place settings. Seven glasses. Seven napkins. Seven bowls of soup. Florence looked at the empty chair.
“Are we waiting for someone?”
Nobody answered.
At the opposite end of the table, a woman looked up from the spoon she had been studying as though considering whether it might be useful for dismantling something.
“Lilian Bland.”
Florence knew the name.
“The aviator?”
“The journalist. Photographer. Sportswoman. Aviator when people insist.”
“You built an aeroplane.”
“I did!” Lilian raised her glass and smiled, as though toasting Florence.
“Did it fly?”
Lilian gave her a look.
“Well now, I wouldn’t be much of an aviator if it hadn’t.”
Beside her, a handsome woman with determined features laughed.
“I like you.”
“How kind…”
“Elsie Inglis.”
“Yes,” said Florence. “I know.”
There was a moment. Not an uncomfortable one exactly. But there are some names that seem to arrive long before their owners do. Elsie raised her glass. “And I know you.”
Florence inclined her head.
“Then we’re even.”
The final woman had been quiet so far. She sat with both hands around her glass, watching the others with an expression that was gentle but by no means timid.
“Eglantyne Jebb.”
Another paused followed. Florence frowned.
“I.m not sure I…”
“Save the Children?”
“Ah”
“Yes.”
“I know your work”
“Most people know the organisation.”
“But not you.”
Eglantyne smiled.
“That seems to be the theme of the evening.”
Silence settled around the table. Then Maria picked up her spoon.
“Can we eat now?”
The soup was excellent, although none of the women were quite sure what was in it. Beatrix suspected it was some kind of mushroom. Lilian thought leek. Elsie insisted there was barley in it. Maria said she didn’t care what was in it provided that everyone stopped dissecting the bloody soup and ate it. Florence found herself smiling. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done that.
There was another thing that was odd about the room. Time seemed to behave strangely here. Dates didn’t seem important. Neither did death. Nobody asked how they had arrived there or where they had come from. And nobody mentioned that, according to any sensible calendar, they should not all have been sitting at the same dining table.
The second course arrived without anyone bringing it. It was just simply there. Beatrix noticed first, staring suspiciously at the roast potatoes.
“Who cooked these?”
Nobody knew.
“Then I’m not eating them!” she pouted, crossing her arms.
“You ate the soup.” said Maria.
“That was before I realised that we didn’t have a cook.”
“Perhaps the rabbit did it,” Lillian giggled.
Beatrix gave her a stare that had probably once turned a publisher to rubble.
“Peter Rabbit Cannot Cook!” Beatrix enunciated each word clearly, as if speaking to a particularly distracted child.
“How do you know?”
“Because I wrote him!”
Lilian picked up her cutlery and began to poke at the food on her plate. “Doesn’t mean you know everything he gets up to…” she muttered. Elsie laughed so hard that she nearly spilled her wine.
Florence decided that she liked Lilian Bland.
Dinner continued slowly, as did the conversation. It began with the harmless things. Weather. Books. Animals. Travel.
Then someone mentioned hospitals and that was when thigs began to get really interesting.
“You were told to go home?” Florence asked incredulously.
Elsie nodded. “By the War Office, yes. Apparently women doctors were surplus to requirements.”
Florence’s mouth tightened. “So you went elsewhere?”
“France.”
“Of course you did.”
“And Serbia.”
“Of course you did.” Florence repeated.
“They gave me an order.”
Florence stared at her for several seconds. Then, raising her glass she said,
“To ignoring idiotic men.”
Every woman seated at the table raised hers. Even Beatrix.
Especially Beatrix.
“To ignoring idiotic men.”
They drank.
After that there was no stopping them.
Lilian told them about building the Mayfly.
“You called your aeroplane Mayfly?” asked Eglantyne.
“Yes,” Lilian replied. “Because it may fly…”
“And if it didn’t?”
“Then presumably I’d have renamed it Maynot.”
Maria nearly choked on her wine.
Beatrix talked about fungi. Not rabbits or Aylsbury ducks wearing blue bonnets. Fungi. She talked about drawing them, studying them, trying to present her scientific work and discovering that being both knowledgeable and female was apparently an intolerable combination.
Florence understood that particular irritation very well.
“So they remember the rabbits,” she said.
“They remember the rabbits.”
“Not the science?”
Beatrix swirled her glass, staring into it as though she might find an answer there.
“Oh! Occasionally the sheep!” she smiled.
“The sheep?” said Florence, “I don’t recall…?”
“I bought farms!” Beatrix cut in, quickly.
“Why?”
“To stop people ruining them.”
Lilian nodded approvingly. “Good.”
Beatrix looked pleased.
Then Maria told them about animals in war. Not sentimentally, she wouldn’t allow that. She spoke of dogs pulling the wounded from the rubble. Pigeons carrying messages through gunfire. Horses, cats and creatures who had no understanding of nations or medals or why human beings had suddenly decided to tear the world apart.
“They served,” Marie said. “That was enough for me.”
“And so you made them a medal?” Elsie asked.
“I made sure someone did.”
“Same thing.”
Maria pretended not to hear her.
Eglantyne spoke last. She told them about children. Hungry children. Children who had belonged to the enemy and therefore, according to some people, deserved to remain hungry.
“They were children.” she said. Nothing more. She didn’t need anything more.
The table became quiet.Florence looked at the six – no, five – faces around it. Her eyes moved towards the empty chair.
Still there. Still laid. Te untouched plate had changed with every course. Soup and dinner, both untouched and removed by unseen hands. Nobody had sat there and yet the place remained. Ready.
Waiting.
“Who is that for?” Florence asked.
This time everyone looked.
“I’ve been wondering,” said Elsie.
“So have I,” said Beatrix.
Maria frowned, “I assumed one of you knew.”
“No.”
Lillian leaned sideways and looked beneath the table.
“What are you expecting to find?” asked Eglantyne.
“I don’t know.”
“Is anyone there?”
“No.”
“Useful.”
Lilian sat upright again. “It was worth checking.”
Dessert arrived. Nobody questioned it anymore. Apple crumble with custard. Maria took seconds. Then coffee appeared. Florence approved of that.
They talked long after the plates had vanished. About what they had done and about what they had failed to do – that surprised Florence.
History, she thought, liked finished things.
Achievements and dates, institutions and books, hospitals, aeroplanes, medals and declarations. It rarely recorded the days when things didn’t work. The letters that went unanswered and the doors closed. The humiliation of being dismissed and the sheer exhaustion. The doubt. The mornings when getting dressed had felt more difficult than changing the world.
“I nearly gave up,” Lilian said,serious now.
“So did I,” said Beatrix.
Elsie nodded.
Maria stared into her coffee.
Eglantyne said nothing.
Florence looked around the table. “But did we?”
Beatrix smiled, “No.”
The fire had burned low. The clock still showed seven ‘o clock. It all seemed impossible, but impossibility had rather lost it’s meaning in this room. Then Eglantyne looked towards the empty chair.
“I think I understand.”
The others followed her gaze. The seventh chair remained untouched.
“Understand what?” Maria asked.
“The invitation.”
Florence reached into her pocket. She still had hes.
Dinner. Seven ‘o clock. Come as you are.
Beatrix produced an identical card. Then Elsie, Maria, Lilian, Eglatyne. Six invitations. Seven chairs.
“There should be another card,” said Florence.
“Yes,” said Eglantyne. “Who has it?”
Eglantyne looked towards the door which, for the first time that evening, had begun to open.
Beyond it was not a corridor or a street. Or London, Cumbria, Ireland, Serbia or anywhere else any of them had known. Instead, there were thousands of rooms.
Classrooms. Bedrooms. Kitchens. Offices. Workshops. Hospital wards. Libraries. Laboratories. Studios. Fields. Factories. And in them were women.
Girls.
Some were reading or working. Some were caring for children or animals. Some were staring at calculations nobody else understood.
One was drawing. Another was writing. One girl was taking apart a machine. Yet another was standing outside a closed door, gathering the courage to knock again.
One was being told “No.”
One had just been laughed at.
One had failed.
One had succeeded and nobody had noticed.
One had an idea she had not yet told anybody about.
One believed she was just ordinary.
The six women stood, nobody spoke for a while. Then Beatrix smiled.
“Oh.”
Florence understood.
The seventh chair had never belonged to somebody missing from the table. It belonged to somebody who hadn’t arrived yet. To somebody whose name would perhaps be printed in books. Perhaps not. History could be peculiar about such things.
History liked monuments and anniversaries. It liked famous names. History like deciding afterwards which moments had mattered.
But history was not made afterwards.
It was made in kitchens and workshops and hospital wards. At desks. In laboratories. On bicycles, In muddy fields and beside sickbeds.
With pencils and petitions and sheer, bloody stubbornness.
Sometimes, history was made with aeroplanes that might fly.
And sometimes history was made by a woman who had absolutely no idea that what she was doing mattered.
Florence walked to the empty chair. She pulled it away from the table.
The others watched.
Somewhere beyond the open door, another woman was being told that she couldn’t.
Florence smiled. She had heard that before. They all had.
She looked through the doorway. Maybe, somehow, the woman on the other side could see them.
Six women at a table and one empty place. Waiting.
Florence rested her hand upon the back of the chair.
“Well?” she said.
“Are you going to sit down?”
#BeatrixPotter #EglantyneJebb #ElsieInglis #FeministHistory #FlorenceNightingale #ForgottenWomen #historicalFiction #InspirationalWomen #LilianBland #MariaDickin #MysteriousTimes #RemarkableWomen #ShortStorySunday #StrongFeminineEnergy #TheSeventhChair #WomenSHistory
Portrait of Simone de Beauvoir Painting by Mauricio Sobalvarro - Fine Art America
https://fineartamerica.com/featured/portrait-of-simone-de-beauvoir-mauricio-sobalvarro.html #WomensRights #SimoneDeBeauvoir #GenderEquality #Feminism #HumanRights #Vigilance #WomenEmpowerment #ProtectOurRights #FeministHistory #EqualityNow #SocialJustice #WomenInPolitics #CivicEngagement #GlobalSisterhood #Activism #FightForEquality #Intersectionality #EmpowerWomen #RightsAreFragile #FeministTheory
Out now!! 🥳
- Page-per-day diary
- Diary with 2 pages per day
Both available on Amazon. https://www.amazon.co.uk/stores/Helen-Pugh/author/B08CNMQ9T6/allbooks
Hexing the Bomb
Hot on the heels of my little foray into the Battle of the Beanfield I decided to dig a little deeper into another important and largely forgotten nugget of social history. This one incorporates a couple of my favourite subjects, neither of which is politics. It does, however, have women standing up together and achieving the seemingly impossible and witches.
Pull up a chair… 🙂
There are moments in history when politics, folklore and belief collide in ways that seem almost impossible to imagine. One such moment unfolded on the windswept perimeter fences of Greenham Common during the final decades of the Cold War, when thousands of women gathered to oppose the presence of American nuclear missiles on British soil. Among the banners, songs and acts of civil disobedience was something few journalists expected to find at the heart of a major political protest. Witches.
For nearly two decades, Greenham Common became one of the most significant centres of peace activism in modern British history. It was a place of arrests, demonstrations, campfires and confrontation. It was also a place where ancient symbols found new life. Women danced in circles, wove webs across military fences, invoked goddesses, cast symbolic spells and drew upon centuries of folklore to challenge one of the most powerful military alliances in the world.
To understand why, we must first return to a Britain gripped by fear.
The early 1980s were shadowed by the threat of nuclear war. Relations between East and West had deteriorated. The Soviet Union and NATO were engaged in a dangerous arms race. Television viewers watched films such as Threads and The Day After, which depicted the horrific consequences of nuclear conflict. Schoolchildren grew up with the knowledge that a single political miscalculation could end civilisation in an afternoon.
Against this backdrop, the British government agreed to host American cruise missiles at RAF Greenham Common in Berkshire. To supporters, the deployment was a necessary deterrent. To opponents, it made Britain a target and increased the likelihood of nuclear confrontation.
In September 1981, a small group of Welsh women marched from Cardiff to Greenham Common. Their intention was straightforward. They wanted a public debate about nuclear weapons. When their concerns were ignored, some chose to remain.
Few could have imagined that their decision would create one of the most influential protest movements in modern British history.
The Greenham Common Women’s Peace Camp became a permanent presence outside the military base. Women arrived from every corner of Britain and beyond. Some stayed for days. Others remained for years. Grandmothers camped alongside students. Teachers shared fires with artists, nurses, activists and travellers. The camp developed its own culture, traditions and rituals.
Media coverage was often hostile. Newspapers portrayed the women as scruffy, eccentric or dangerous. Politicians dismissed them as naïve. Yet Greenham continued to grow. By December 1982, around 30,000 women joined hands around the nine-mile perimeter fence in one of the largest demonstrations Britain had ever seen.
As the movement evolved, some participants began drawing upon folklore, mythology and spiritual traditions to express their opposition to nuclear weapons.
For many women involved in the peace camp, the figure of the witch held profound significance.The witch has never been simply a character from fairy tales. Across European history she has represented independence, resistance and the refusal to conform. She is the village healer, the wise woman, the outsider and the scapegoat. She embodies knowledge that exists beyond accepted authority.
Many women at Greenham recognised parallels between historical witch hunts and contemporary attempts to dismiss or marginalise female voices. The image of the witch became a powerful symbol of protest.
Some protesters identified as pagans or practitioners of modern witchcraft. Others were not religious at all but embraced the symbolism. Together they transformed folklore into a political language.
At various demonstrations, women dressed as witches, carrying besoms and wearing pointed hats. They conducted symbolic rituals outside the base gates. Circles were formed. Chants were spoken. Songs echoed through the Berkshire countryside.
Perhaps most striking were the webs.Women frequently attached ribbons, wool, photographs, toys and personal objects to the military fences. These creations resembled enormous spider webs stretching across the perimeter. They symbolised connection, community and the fragile threads linking humanity together. Military planners saw security barriers. The women transformed them into canvases for storytelling.
One protest became known as the “Embrace the Base” demonstration, during which thousands of women encircled Greenham Common. The act itself echoed ancient traditions of protective circles and boundary rituals found throughout British folklore.In many folk traditions, circles create sacred space. They mark a distinction between the ordinary and the extraordinary. Whether consciously or unconsciously, Greenham’s protesters drew upon symbolism that would have been recognised by generations of cunning folk, ceremonial magicians and village communities.
There were also reports of symbolic spell-casting directed not at individuals but at the weapons themselves.
These actions were largely theatrical and symbolic. Yet symbolism has always been one of humanity’s most powerful tools. Flags, crowns, crosses and national monuments derive their power from collective belief. Greenham’s witches understood this. They recognised that ritual could attract attention, build solidarity and create memorable images capable of travelling far beyond the camp itself.Photographs from the period remain remarkable. Women dance beneath military floodlights. Costumed protesters stand before coils of razor wire. Sacred imagery appears alongside anti-nuclear slogans. Ancient archetypes confront modern technology.
The contrast could hardly have been more dramatic.
Behind the spectacle lay a serious philosophical question. How should ordinary people respond when faced with systems that appear too vast to challenge?
For some, the answer lay in petitions or political lobbying. For others, it involved direct action. At Greenham, many women chose creativity. They responded to missiles with songs, fences with artwork and military authority with myth.
It is tempting to dismiss such actions as eccentric. Yet history suggests otherwise.Throughout the centuries, folklore has often emerged during periods of uncertainty and upheaval. Communities create stories to explain fears, express hopes and challenge power structures. Ballads mocked landlords. legends criticised rulers. Folk customs strengthened communities during times of hardship.
Greenham Common followed the same pattern.The camp generated its own folklore almost immediately. Stories circulated among protesters. Songs were composed. Rituals evolved. Shared symbols developed meaning through repetition. What began as a political protest became something resembling a living folk tradition.
Even the landscape itself absorbed these stories.
Greenham Common is now remembered not only as a military site but as a place of resistance. The fences have gone. The missiles have long since been removed. Yet the stories remain. Visitors still encounter traces of the movement in memorials, artworks and local memory.
The protest ultimately achieved far more than many observers predicted. Cruise missiles were removed from Greenham Common in 1991 following the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty. The peace camp remained for several years afterwards before finally closing in 2000.
Whether Greenham alone changed government policy remains a matter of debate. Few historians would argue that it was the sole cause. Yet its influence on public discourse is undeniable. The movement helped shape conversations about nuclear weapons, gender, protest and citizenship. It inspired campaigns around the world and demonstrated the power of sustained grassroots activism.
The witches of Greenham Common occupy a particularly fascinating place within that story.
They remind us that folklore is not confined to dusty books or distant centuries. It remains a living force, capable of adapting to new circumstances and addressing modern concerns. Ancient symbols continue to resonate because they speak to enduring human experiences.
The women who danced around Greenham’s fences were not attempting to retreat into the past. They were using the past to imagine a different future.
In an age dominated by military technology, political rhetoric and the machinery of the Cold War, they answered with stories, songs, rituals and symbols that had survived for centuries.
Whether one believes in magic is ultimately beside the point.
The real magic of Greenham Common lay in its ability to transform fear into action, isolation into community and protest into legend.
More than forty years later, the image remains unforgettable. A line of women standing beneath winter skies, facing one of the most formidable military establishments on Earth armed with banners, determination and the enduring power of folklore.
History remembers the missiles.
Folklore remembers the witches.
Further Reading
Common Women, Uncommon Practices by Sasha RoseneilGreenham Women Everywhere by Rebecca Mordan
Peace Camps: A Study of Greenham Women by Lynne Jones
The archives of the Greenham Common Women’s Peace
CampRecords held by the Women’s Library at the London School of Economics
Imperial War Museum collections relating to Greenham Common
Oral history projects documenting former Greenham residents
Copyright Notice:
© 2026 Mysterious Times. All rights reserved.This article is published exclusively for Mysterious Times. No part may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form without prior written permission, except for brief quotations used for review, commentary or educational purposes with appropriate attribution.
#1980sBritain #AlternativeBritain #AlternativeSpirituality #AntiNuclearMovement #BerkshireFolklore #BerkshireHistory #BritishCounterculture #BritishFolklore #BritishHistory #BritishSocialHistory #BritishWitchcraft #ColdWarBritain #ColdWarFolklore #ColdWarHistory #ContemporaryFolklore #Counterculture #CruiseMissiles #FeministHistory #folkMagic #FolkTraditions #FolkloreAndPolitics #GreenhamCommon #GreenhamCommonPeaceCamp #GreenhamWomen #HistoricalLongRead #HistoryOfProtest #LivingFolklore #MagicAndProtest #modernWitchcraft #MysteriousTimes #NewAgeMovement #NuclearDisarmament #NuclearProtest #Paganism #PeaceActivism #PeaceCampHistory #PeaceMovementHistory #PoliticalProtest #ProtestHistory #ProtestMovements #RitualAndResistance #SacredProtest #SocialHistoryUK #SymbolicResistance #ThatcherEraBritain #WitchcraftAndPolitics #WitchesOfGreenhamCommon #WomenSActivism #WomenSHistory #WomenSPeaceMovement
#onthisday Alexandra Kollontai, heute 1872 in Sankt Petersburg geboren, erkannte in der Verknüpfung von unterschiedlichen Ausbeutungsverhältnissen die Ursache für die Unterdrückung von Frauen: »Die Unantastbarkeit des Privateigentums, das Fortbestehen des privaten Einfamilienhaushaltes, das zähe Überleben … /1
#bookstodon #kollontai #frauenbewegung #feminismus #sozialismus #arbeiterbewegung #feministhistory #buchtipp
Happy Birthday, Alexandra Kollontai! Heute 1872 geboren, erste Ministerin und erste Diplomatin der Welt, neben Luxemburg & Zetkin sicher eine der bedeutendsten Revolutionärinnen im 20. Jh. Bis heute werden ihre Werke vom Kanon der Geschichtswissenschaft ignoriert, ihre Ideen in der feministischen Wissenschaft übersehen. Ein Thread /1
#bookstodon #kollontai #revolution #herstory #smashThePatriarchy #womeninhistory #feminismus #feministhistory #buch #lesen
Wer war diese Frau, die zu Lebzeiten mit einer Ikone verglichen wurde, Mitbegründerin einer Bewegung und später Partei war, sich mit Marx austauschte … und nach ihrem Attentat auf den Petersburger Polizeikommandanten Trjepow freigesprochen wurde? Wera Sassulitsch (1849–1919) /1
#sassulitsch #russland #russischerevolution #marx #linke #linkegeschichte #sozialismus #womeninhistory #herstory #buchtipp #lesetipp #womenmakehistory #feministhistory #leftist #socialist #bookstodon
https://www.europesays.com/africa/146111/ Juliana Stratton’s Big Senate Win, Kristi Noem’s Next Steps and the Origins of Women’s History Month #2026Elections #CollegesAndUniversities #congress #élections #FeministHistory #GlobalWomen'sRights #MelissaHortman #MISSISSIPPI #RankedChoiceVoting #Suffrage #Tanzania #UnitedNations #WeekendReadingOnWomen'sRepresentation #WomenInPolitics #Women'sHistory #YoungWomenAndGirls
Was Şeyda Kurt sagt: Rosa Luxemburg lesen! Wir haben alle 7 Bände online gestellt, frei zugänglich für alle und mit prima Funktionen zum wissenschaftlich fundierten Suchen & Zitieren: https://rosaluxemburgwerke.de
#rosaluxemburg #socialist #womeninhistory #radicalwomen #smashpatriarchy #onthisday #linke #sozialismus #kapitalismus #capital #feministhistory
Unsere Anthologie »Feministische Internationale« füllt eine Leerstelle der Erinnerungskultur und setzt Aktivistinnen der proletarischen Frauenbewegung im 19. und 20. Jh. ein Denkmal. „Ein Must-Read für alle, die sich materialistisch-feministisch organisieren“ (Hêlîn Dirik) Ein Thread: /1
#bookstodon #feminismus #klasse #arbeiterklasse #feministhistory #feminist #herstory #linke #socialist #geschichte #buchtipp #lesetipp
Purses have always been more than a fashion accessory! Join us to explore the relevance of these personal items to movements for social, economic, and political change 👜
On Saturday, August 9th, Firestorm Books will be hosting Furman University professor Kathleen B. Casey for a presentation of her new book "The Things She Carried: A Cultural History of the Purse in America." In conversation with fellow feminist educator Emily Taylor, Kathleen will discuss how and why purses became intimately linked with evolving understandings of gender, travel, waged work, and modernity.
"The Things She Carried" reveals how bags, sacks, and purses provided the methods and materials for activism, allowing carriers to transgress critical boundaries at key moments. Learn more about this author event, and the book, at https://firestorm.coop/events/3413-a-cultural-history-of-the-purse-in-america.html (link in bio).
#FeministHistory #WomensHistory #PurseLover #FeministBookstore #TheThingsSheCarried #FirestormCoop (- L)
Was Schönes zwischenrein: Schreibt mal wieder eine Postkarte in real life an eine Person eures Herzens 💌 Kleiner Move, große Wirkung in digitalen Zeiten … Wir haben dafür 10 ausgesuchte Motive aus dem Herbarium von Rosa Luxemburg als kleines, feines Set parat: https://dietzberlin.de/produkt/herbarium-postkartenset-4
#rosaluxemburg #herbarium #botanik #naturelover #garten #natur #flora #postkarten #blumen #pflanzen #womeninhistory #feministhistory #revolutionary
On Sunday, March 23rd our co-op will be hosting author Sophie Lewis, whose razor sharp thinking—ever provocative and visionary—has made them one of our favorite feminist writers. Speaking on "enemy feminisms" (the topic of their most recent book), @reproutopia catalogs our movement's bad kin while making the case for the bold, liberatory politics we need to overcome fascism, nationalism, femmephobia, and cisness.
You can find more event information, and copies of "Enemy Feminisms: Terfs, Policewomen, and Girlbosses Against Liberation," at https://firestorm.coop/events/3310-feminists-against-liberation-a-conversation-with-sophie-lewis.html.
"This book is mandatory reading for anyone interested in a rough and compelling vision of the feminist past, present, and future. Honest, brutal, historically comprehensive, and brilliant."
—Judith Butler
#FeministHistory #FeministMovement #Transfeminism #Anarchafeminism #FeministBookstore #EnemyFeminism #FirestormCoop (- L)
#OnThisDay, 19 Feb 1963, American writer Betty Friedan's book 'The Feminine Mystique' is published in the USA.
It is widely credited as kick-starting second wave feminism, and identified social expectations of femininity as a driver of women's unhappiness.
#WomenInHistory #OTD #History #WomensHistory #FeministHistory #Histodons
Lorraine Hansberry became the youngest and first Black playwright to win a New York Drama Critics Circle Award, and the play was nominated for four Tony Awards including Best Play.
https://medium.com/prismnpen/black-history-month-lesbian-playwright-lorraine-hansberrys-legacy-010a070431b5?sk=fb4316130155c49f292191f8c549bd4f
#LGBTQ #BlackHistory #Lesbian #QueerHistory #FeministHistory
#OnThisDay, 19 Feb 1963, American writer Betty Friedan's book 'The Feminine Mystique' is published in the USA.
It is widely credited as kick-starting second wave feminism, and identified social expectations of femininity as a driver of women's unhappiness.
@mickylindlar Bist du hier involviert? Fast sicher, oder? 🤩 und @spoeschl du sowieso? Ab 2023, übernimmt die TIB die digitale Langzeitarchivierung für die im Rahmen des Digitalen Deutschen Frauenarchive” entstandenen digitalen Materialien. So cool! 🎉 https://www.digitales-deutsches-frauenarchiv.de/blog/feministische-archive-starten-langzeitarchivierung #digipres #lza #frauenarchive #lesbenarchive #communityArchives #feministHistory #feminismus
An excerpt of #ashesandstones about Isobel Gowdie's subversive confessions appears in at Lapham’s quarterly Round Table online @ laphamsquarterly.org https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/roundtable/go-devils-name
Go in the Devil’s Name | Lapham’s Quarterly #Witches #Witchcraft #Histodon #history #scotland #ScottishHistory #WitchesOfMastodon #Feminist #FeministHistory #WritingCommunity #Blog
@mariapopova A fascinating story of astronomy, needle crafting and nineteenth century feminism!
The link to the article without going via X: https://www.themarginalian.org/2018/12/06/ellen-harding-baker-solar-system-quilt/
Also https://www.themarginalian.org/2017/05/10/cecilia-payne-supernova-needlepoint/ on Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin
And https://www.themarginalian.org/2016/07/28/women-in-science-rachel-ignotofsky/ on Rachel Ignotofsky
#astronomy #SolarSystem #quilting #NeedleCraft #FeministHistory
Read this wonderful essay by Liz Crash in Overland, giving much-needed historical context to claims by "gender-critical" activists who claim to speak for all women or all lesbians against #trans inclusion.
The truth about 'lesbian erasure'
#feministhistory #feminism #transfeminism
Women in Greek and Hindu Mythology (With Nikita Gill) by Jenny Williamson #Podcasts #feministhistory #greekmythology #guestinterviews #hindumythology #womenofmyth #AncientHistoryFanGirlPodcast #podcast #bot Both Greek and Hindu mythology are populated with fascinating women—goddesses, heroines, and …
https://www.ancienthistoryfangirl.com/2023/02/16/women-in-greek-and-hindu-mythology-with-nikita-gill/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=women-in-greek-and-hindu-mythology-with-nikita-gill
Advertising menstrual products on television was banned until 1972. #feministhistory #WeDidntHaveTheWords #WhatLittleWeDidWasRadical #ContextMatters
Google Präsentationen hat wohl noch nie von der feministischen Filmgeschichtsschreibung gehört und scheint nicht zu wissen, dass es auch Filmpionierinnen gab...#DAVIF #FeministischeFilmgeschichte #FeministHistory
I've read up to the Greenham Common section in The Book of Trespass, which begins on page 176. On 173 Nick Hayes mansplains to feminists why "patriarchy" is the wrong word to describe the "rule of the father" and what he believes we actually mean is "paternalism" "Because what characterised these witch-hunts was not just gender but this particular structure of power." Lol, no shit sherlock. Hayes then imposes his own paternalism on the women who protested at Greenham Common, amongst others. He truly believes he knows more about patriarchy/paternalism than several generations of feminists. And having introduced his ill-defined term "paternalism" on page 173 he then manages to crowbar it into the remaining 213 pages 11 more times, to reinforce his power of defining other people's experiences (which, ironically, is the power he pretends to be opposing).
Greenham protest: "The camp became a howl against the paternalistic hierarchy" (Greenham's "patriarchy" = 4 syllables, Hayes' "paternalistic hierarchy" = 8 syllables). Protesting: "a world that had defined and confined women into roles written by men" [... oh the irony...] "Theirs was a space where womanhood was self-defined". (Who's going to tell him what he's done there? Lmao.)
While I'm critiquing, I'll also mention that I find his knowledge of the social history subjects he's tackling inadequate to the task he's set himself. I note his repeated descriptions of ruling class people as individuals with personal histories while he elides working class people into an undifferentiated mass of "commoners" in opposition to the central and centred ruling classes. And, of course, "The" Book of Trespass exclusively covers England, mostly the south east of England (Hayes is a child of Berkshire and it shows). The one true subject of this book is Nick Hayes, and his intended audience appears to be men like himself.
#trespass #TheBookOfTrespass #UK #books #reading #mansplaining #patriarchy #feminism #FeministHistory #WomensHistory #semantics #SocialHistory #WorkingClassHistory
How Women Writers Speculated Fictional Futures Free From Patriarchal Control
#Scifi #womenwriters #feminism #feministhistory
https://lithub.com/how-women-writers-speculated-fictional-futures-free-from-patriarchal-control/
This short book trailer animation traces my six year journey across Scotland, searching for women accused of witchcraft and the places in the landscape that mark their lives. #ScottishFolklore #witch #witches #scottishHistory #bookTrailer #nonfiction #bookstodon #folklore #WritingCommunity #bookclub #scottishbook #scotland #womennotwitches #hexthepatriarchy #feminist #feministhistory #witchesofmastodon #witchythings
Jubilant welcome to @DrHannahDawson ! One for @intellectualhistory @histodons @cambridge_cpt #Feminism #HistoryofPoliticalThought #FeministHistory #IntellectualHistory #PoliticalTheory #Locke
