Inspire Me

Thank you all for the deluge of beautiful comments, love, and support for my project this week — I cannot count how many times I’ve been moved to tears by your words and the outpouring of emotions that I’ve seen here in the past several days. I even got a FABULOUS award from my lovely friend, the Mad Gay Man, which you can see in my sidebar. I feel utterly honored to have such a vibrant community of men and women who are ready to be open and honest and share laughter and sorrow both. You are all the reason I write this blog, and I look forward to getting to know you all better.

You all make me wanna put my face in this. WARM FUZZY TIME! Courtesy of

You’re going to hear me sing today. For real. Just…er…be gentle. Please. YouTube is a new arena for me. Eek. Stay tuned, and we’ll get there.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve tried to break the rules. First the Ninja Turtles. Then I asked my mom if I could marry my best friend Sunny, and she said I could marry whoever I wanted. Legally, she was wrong, but I still remember that conversation. I turned out to like boys, so that point is a little moot. When I was about five, my mom introduced me to an Alaskan Folk Singer named Libby Roderick. I remember going to see her concert in Anchorage, and some of my most clear memories of my early childhood involve her music.

One day I was in my mom’s room singing one of her songs. “If you see a dream, for god’s sake free it. If you have a hope, help it grow. If you can be a hero, for god’s sake be one. If you have a prisoner, let her go…let her go.”

It was at that point that my mom walked in, and I got really embarrassed. Libby’s music stayed with me throughout the years. Her words are simple, powerful poetry. Her song How Could AnyoneΒ has been used around the world, and she has been a strong voice in the face of discrimination, racism, and violence. I still have all her CDs, and I encourage you to check out her website and consider purchasing her music (it’s also available on iTunes).

Libby’s music showed me that women can be powerful and strong, and I believe that her lyrics and melodies shaped the child into the woman I am today in many ways. I remember meeting her when I was five or six at that concert. I remember her kindness and gentleness, and that she acknowledged me. She probably doesn’t remember tiny five-year-old Emmie, but twenty-two years later, I remember her.

I needed to see women making history.

As I grew up, I remember the multitude of comments about what girls could and couldn’t do. “Boys are better,” the little boys in my school said. “Boys are smarter and stronger. Girls can’t do that — girls aren’t supposed to fight. Boys are smarter than girls.” This to a straight-A student Emmie who boiled with a child’s rage and restrained herself knowing that if one of them took it too far, she knew to kick him in the nards.

When I started learning history, I remember learning about Amelia Earhart. This woman shucked off the naysayers and did her dream. She went soaring away in her tiny plane — she may not have returned, but she left a legacy that spanned that ocean.

Harriet Tubman, who risked her life and every ounce of her safety and being to lead hundreds of human beings to the North, away from the people who made them slaves. Hundreds of people were freed by her courageousness, a bravery fought for not only against the slave owners and enforcers, but against her own body which suffered seizures and narcoleptic attacks after a savage beating by her former master. Any person strong enough to do that, any person strong enough to fight that hard was a hero in my eyes. And this was a woman who started out a girl like me.

As I grew up, I remember the names of women. Maya Angelou, Helen Keller, Winnie Mandela, Rosa Parks, Hillary Clinton — women who denied the validity of a system that called them inferior. Women who overcame obstacles and criticism. Women who pressed on in spite of the spiteful and needling labels that so many strong, beautiful women have been plastered with over the years. Bitch. Harpy. Frigid. Ice Queen. Pretender. These women weren’t trying to be men — these women were being women. This is the mettle of the double X chromosome, and it’s every bit as capable and valid as the XY.

We women need a new mythology.

Growing up, little girls are inundated with tales that make us dependent. Dependent on a prince on a white horse. Dependent on society. Dependent on others.

And yet throughout history there are thousands — millions — of women who have carved out their places and shown the world a glimpse of what things couldΒ be. Women like Cleopatra and Joan of Arc. I’m willing to bet that the ancient gods and goddesses were based on stories and legends that were in turn based on real women. Aphrodite and Athena, Hera and Artemis and Demeter. Women have wisdom, strength, sensuality, and the ability to provide.

I was in college when I first heard of The Vagina Monologues. It made quite a splash at the time, and I remember a friend of mine named Keith getting in trouble at our Christian university for wearing a shirt that had the word vagina on it. He was infuriated, so he began to talk about the monologues to whoever would listen. A Marine and a feminist, this guy got my attention. I read the monologues. And they introduced me to the woman who has become my real life hero.

Eve Ensler is a survivor. She is a playwright and a wordsmith. Her words have touched millions around the world. Her words touched me, and they drew me into knowledge that has changed my outlook on life, helped me cope with my rape, and ultimately inspired this week of blog posts.

Several years ago now, I read an article in Glamour. I urge you to read it. It’s not an easy read. Truth seldom is. The first line of the article is, “I have just returned from hell.”

Eve had gone to the Democratic Republic of the Congo to visit the Panzi hospital, run by a man named Dr. Denis Mukwege. This hospital is a trauma center for women who have been the victims of the most brutal and atrocious forms of rape. A hush enters my mind as I write this. I’ve read the article several times, and still the tears prick my eyes like burning needles. Still the images sear my mind as I can’t help but picture the reality of Dr. Mukwege’s work. I write this now with my eyes closed, hoping you’ll read it too, hoping you’ll be willing to put yourself through this to understand, to know that women are still in danger all over the world. To know that that even in the darkest pits of the human psyche, the survivors of these attacks still sing. To hope that you will feel, like I did, the fiery need to make this known and to help in whatever way you can.

Eve has raised over $85 million dollars to stop violence against women. She has helped found a city. A city where women can go to be safe and heal and learn. It’s called the City of Joy. It’s located in Bukavu, DRC, and its first class has just graduated last week.

These women are the reason I am who I am today. They’re the reason my friend the Mad Gay Man thinks I’m fabulous. Anything good and true in me is something I’ve learned, something reflected from those who came before me, and the women before them, and the women before them, and back and back and back into the sleepy folds of time. My mother nurtured my drive and my need for female heroes. She raised me alone for the first many years of my life after two abusive marriages, through poverty and several states. When I looked around to see what the future had in store for me, my mother always said I could be whoever I wanted to be.

I challenge you all to ask yourself what it is that you really want. Who do you want to be? Whether you’re a man or a woman or neither or both — who do you want to be?

Inspire me.

I’ve never watched myself singing before…do be gentle. :/

Used with permission. Words and music by Libby Roderick
C Libby Roderick Music 1986 BMI All rights reserved
From the recording “If You See a Dream”
Turtle Island Records Anchorage Alaska 907/278-6817



About Emmie Mears

Saving the world from brooding, one self-actualized vampire at a time.

Posted on February 9, 2012, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 24 Comments.

  1. I’ll listen later, buy you go, woman!

  2. Kristin McFarland

    How lovely! You are so brave, for so many things. Thanks for sharing this with us.

    P.S. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, so I’m in total awe of you right now.

  3. Bravo, Emmie! That was beautiful – you gave me chills. Your words and your voice are such an inspiration to women everywhere.
    The last couple of days you’ve been sharing such important things that need to be talked about. I applaud you for speaking out and speaking up!
    Great great job! πŸ™‚

  4. Inspiring post! And those huskies…my gosh…

  5. Beautiful! And so full of hope. My dad who is nearly 10 years older than my mom is very old-fashioned. So, I’m still surprised by what he told me when I was very young. He took me on his lap and said, “You are smart. You can do anything a man can do and you should never let anyone tell you otherwise.” This was the late 60’s when that wasn’t so common. He has always encouraged and supported me. I’ve been blessed with two wonderful parents. I’m thankful for all those other women who came before me to make a difference in this world and I hope I can give a little myself. You certainly are with this blog, Emmie. πŸ™‚

    • One of the more touching moments I’ve seen in cinema lately was in The Help, which I had mixed feelings about going into (but which ultimately really won me over). It’s when Aibileen talks to the little girl she raises and says, “You is kind, you is smart, you is important.”

      Tearfest. So often people focus on telling little girls that they’re pretty or cute or have nice clothes. I want to teach my future spawn that they are kind, smart, and important.

      • I’m a guy, but I often think back on the encouragement I got from my family and how much it shaped me to be the person I am today. My wife and I are doing the same with our daughter (she turned 1-year-old last week). I hope she becomes a kick-ass, confident, independent woman.

        Most people focus on her cuteness, her funny hair, and her goofy expressions (she does look like a Kewpie doll, so it makes sense, of course). She’s pretty young still for any of us to look far beyond that, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot these days.

        We start creating patterns for kids when they’re born–maybe even before they’re born. And in the daily grind of life, it’s easy to lose sight of the fact that a bit of encouragement at the right time might help a kid succeed down the road, especially little girls.

        Also, I must say that I’m sort of surprised at the level of sexism that still exists despite the progress that has been made. I mean this on all levels, from corporate culture, to university campuses, to construction sites. The war hasn’t yet been won–my daughter will have to fight it, and the only thing we can do is help her be the best person she can be.

        Thanks for the thought-provoking post, Emmie.

  6. the urban misanthropist

    Me? I just wanna be a guy who raises a strong, kind and wise daughter who will make the world a better place in what ever way she can…

    • That is a noble goal. I love it.

      And by the way — so excited for you. It’s been awesome to watch your journey from afar. That baby girl is going to be a lucky one. πŸ™‚

  7. A great post and so true. We really need to look at who we are regardless of gender and make ourselves into who we want to be. Thank your for sharing!

    Oh, and I love the Mad Gay Man Award. πŸ™‚ Congrats!

  8. Emmie you have a great voice and the lyrics are great. Love your hair πŸ™‚

  9. I passed on the Liebster Blog Award to you Emmie! πŸ˜€ (Details at my site.)

    Thanks for all your great, insightful blogs!

  10. Great post! I loved the line “We women need a new mythology”. And how totally, awesomely brave of you to post yourself singing. I am impressed and inspired (though not to sing publicly – something everyone should be thankful for). Thanks for sharing your insights and inspiration with others.

  11. Kourtney Heintz

    Double congrats on your newest award and for being the very first recipient of it! Wow, you can sing too? What beautiful voice! You are building a new mythology right here. Stone by stone. You inspire me. πŸ™‚

  12. Another great one, Emmie … and singing too? Awesome! I shared the same feelings about The Help and was so pleasantly surprised. I’ve borrowed those words you quote and share them with my grandchildren. Cute doesn’t cut it!

  13. I’m such a fan of Eve Ensler. Thanks for this inspiring post, Emmie!

  14. Shee-it, girl, your posts keep making me cry, but for the best possible reasons. Thank you for sharing so much of yourself. And to answer your question, I want to be the kind of parent whose daughter and son know more about possibilities than they do about limits.

  15. Inspiring post. You were awesome! So brave too. I won’t sing in front of a camera. LOL

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