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The other day I was going on another one of my feminist rants (being married to me is really fun) when Krzys offered me some pushback.
I was going on (and on, and on, and on) about how much it bothers me that men are so afraid to talk about periods. Periods are a BIG DEAL, okay? They happen every month, they can wipe us out for days, they require the purchase of products, they’re obnoxious, they’re related to fertility, and yet so much as whisper the word tampon and most men shudder in horror. Krzys, who was raised by a doctor, is not like this. But he understands that a lot of men are.
“I mean, look at it this way,” he pointed out. “Do women really want to hear about, like, a guy’s wet dream?”
Then I slowly turned to him and said as calmly as I was physically able that wet dreams don’t happen once a month for the majority of your life, you don’t need to spend money on wet dreams, wet dreams are not chronically underfunded, wet dreams aren’t related to the continuation of the human race, and by the way, we did have an entire week talking about wet dreams in my 8th grade sex ed class, so there.
All credit to The Pole, who responded, “You’re right. Not the same.”
OK. Just had to get that out.
But as kind-of-annoying as I find my period, the truth is that for most of us in this Letters community, periods aren’t that big of a deal. I mean, for some of us they are, surely! But for most of us, a little app on our phone can give us an idea of when it’s coming, we can make sure we’re stocked with supplies from Target, and a few Tylenol power us through the week. Badda bing, badda boom.
This is not the case for hundreds of thousands of women.
Women who can’t afford sanitary products or simply don’t have access to them are forced to use things like paper, rags, or leaves to try and stay clean during their periods. Not only is this not hygienic—and incredibly uncomfortable—it doesn’t really do the trick. The resulting stigma can be extremely detrimental to women. UNICEF estimates that one out of every ten girls in the world miss school due to their period at some point during their education.
It isn’t just sanitary products. If you have a pad but no toilet, or no privacy to use that toilet, you’re just as screwed.
These things seem small, don’t they? A tampon. A toilet! But these small things matter. If a girl misses school due to her period, what do you think that does to her future? Her family? Her children? Their children? It can set off a generational crisis. It can harm entire communities, when women’s voices aren’t heard in any significant way in industries and the public sphere.
I don’t think men always understand the weight of a period. The amount of money we spend on products, the pain it can cause our bodies, the way we have to think ahead when traveling or making plans, the way pharmaceutical companies target teen girls with tantalizing hormones so that they don’t have to deal with it anymore.
But I also don’t think they—and we—understand the power of a period. The ability to create new life. The human body starting anew. The ancient design coming to fruition.
It can be so tempting to only want to tackle problems like menstruation equity on a massive, global scale. And that’s important. We need to focus on long-term solutions. I’m not going to pretend that by dropping some cash on period products, we’re solving the complex, sexist problem around feminine hygiene product access. But sometimes, we need to hand the women who need sanitary products right this second a box of tampons. 30% of women in Nicaragua live in poverty. They can’t just drive on over to Target and grab some Tampax. While we’re solving these bigger issues, I’d really prefer they not get stigmatized due to bleeding out of their skirts or develop life-threatening infections.
I read something the other day by a person saying they hate asking for money. I literally LOL’d—I love asking for money. I honestly have no problem asking for money. Because how else? How are these resources going to be shifted from the have’s (us) to the have not’s (women in Sub-Saharan Africa or poverty-stricken parts of Latin America or, hell, Milwaukee getting urinary tract infections from sitting on bloody leaves for days?) I believe when God told us to care for our neighbor, he didn’t mean vote for a government that will give your neighbor stuff. I think he was asking *me* to give my neighbor stuff. If we need someone to be the awkward money-asker, I’ll step riiiiiight up to that plate.
The other day, I was stressing out about how to help the 100 Afghan refugees who arrived in Milwaukee this week. Then one of my friends posted on Facebook an address where we could go drop off winter coats for refugees. It was so simple. I have money to buy a coat. The refugees do not. If my friend hadn’t posted that, I would not have known which avenue to use to transfer that money. It’s just money, you guys. Not something to lose our peace over. Is this a privileged position? Hell, yes it is! But the entire point of privilege is using it to give privileges to others, not to just awkwardly tango around the topic of cash.
So this holiday season, instead of a gift guide, I’m opening my hands and asking you to help me help girls and women in Nicaragua. This Christmas, the Catholic Feminist is teaming up with Cross Catholic Outreach to get more period products in the hands of Nicaraguans.
Here’s the pitch: if every single person reading this newsletter gave a dollar to help end period poverty in Nicaragua, we’d blow our goal out of the water. Please consider donating today to get girls and women get access to sanitary products. For only 39 bucks, you can get ten women period products. Ten women! Thinking about a gift for your Bible study leader, the FOCUS missionary you support, or your feminist-minded daughter? Your OBGYN mom or your cousin in the Peace Corps? Imagine telling them that in their name, you helped ten women stay in school.
Period poverty is everywhere. It isn’t just in Nicaragua. In the US, there are absolutely people who can’t afford tampons. But more commonly in the US, I think our period poverty is in our education. How many of us were really taught what a period is in school, not just handed a diagram of some Fallopian tubes? The number of teenage girls who are handed hormones for cramps instead of adequate education about their bodies is shameful.
But in that ugly brokenness, something kind of beautiful emerges. A uniting link.
In a world that’s trying to erase women (do you have any idea how many articles on period poverty I’ve read that won’t even say ‘girls’, instead saying ‘menstruating people’?) there’s something so stunning about a connection. This odd bodily phenomenon has reunited women since the beginning of time. No matter how hard we try to get rid of it with hormones or control it with science, it still rages on, a storm that is difficult to control even in the most privileged of circumstances. Feminists are so bitterly divided over abortion, contraception, and the very definition of womanhood. But period poverty is something we can all work to eradicate. It’s not like I want to go back to The Red Tent days of old (highly recommend that book, BTW) and I don’t want to go all woo-woo-dance-under-a-full-moon on you. But we are connected, all of us, by the very particles that make up our being and the Christ that loves us and the system he designed.
And there is holy grace in that.
On My Nightstand
Here are some things I’ve been reading lately that have made me think!
The Miracle of Lourdes by Ruth Cranston: I think this book may be out of print, so it’s a bit tricky to find, but SO WORTH IT. After returning from Lourdes, I had a deep desire to read more about the place—I basically went in knowing “um, Mary appeared to Bernadette” and that’s it. This book recaps some of the more recent cures, interviews the Medical Bureau of Lourdes, and gives the history of the shrine. Delightful read! It’s a bit outdated (it was originally published in the 50s) but very interesting.
“Cleveland Priest Gets Life. Victims’ Mother: God Is With Us”: This article is an incredibly difficult read, especially if you have sons. But I think staring face-to-face at the continuous abuse crisis in our church is enlightening. In particular, pay attention the response of the diocese. The lack of answering questions, the lack of pastoral care, the lack of bare-minimum service. St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.
“How Feminism Ate Itself”: This article made me think about intersectionality and the pitfalls of modern feminist movements. I’m not sure where I landed on it, but great food for thought! “This need to rally against a villainous antagonist is endemic to much contemporary activism, which tends to define itself by what it’s against rather than what it’s for.”
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Learn more about my books:
Girl, Arise: A Catholic Feminist’s Invitation to Live Boldly, Love Your Faith and Change the World
In Full Bloom: Finding the Grit and Grace to Thrive Wherever You’re Planted
In case you missed these Letters:
MLMs and Catholic Feminism - for subscribers
To Those of Us Who Don’t Fit In - for everyone
Why Am I The Only Fat One Here? - for subscribers
Thanks for informing me on this topic. I've been privileged to never consider it. I'm selective about what causes I support but this one spoke to me. Thanks again!
I can only imagine what it would be like to not have access to sanitary products during your period. A worthy cause. Thanks for championing and bringing it to the front of my mind again.