Restoration, Reckoning, and the Realities of Remembering Women
I discovered nothing new in the archives this week. As our final display was due by Friday, history was set. We knew every single thing there was to know about women at Kenyon and were now focusing our efforts on polishing up that narrative. My groupmates and I narrowed down our collection deciding what was best suited for the limited space "Women and Gender Activism at Kenyon" had. We prioritized photos and visuals that didn't ask too much from our viewer; we cut out interesting pieces like "Men at Kenyon" that widened our scope too much; and we formatted our collection so that each piece seamlessly fitted with the pieces around it. As opposed to other weeks which were filled with excitingly showing each other interesting findings from the archives, this week was categorized by our discussions of what may be presented to our peers and what should be returned to the archive and forgotten about. How stressful! It is a daunting task to decide who should be remembered and who is not worth the space. It feels a little unfair. Technically speaking, I am taking this class to satisfy my diversification requirements, and I have been assigned the God-like task of deciding who is worthy of remembrance and who is damned to be forgotten. Because I just so happen to be born in what I call the present (what they would have called the future), I am now responsible for the impossible task of keeping alive all that has come before me. It feels a little unfair. Why is this my job? I don't feel important enough for such an important task.
Hazar Yazdiha wants me to come to a reckoning. She wants me to restore a narrative that has not been paid justice and from there begin the project of understanding and repairing the world around me. She looks at the Me Too movement as a powerful example of how change can be brought about by calling to the past with a purpose that changes the impact it may have had at previous points. Women like Anita Hill who were pretty much ignored during their time were being retroactively listened to because of the modern conversations that the Me Too movement brought about. The thoughtful work put in by the women of the Me Too movement was not just repairing the apathy that came from Hill's testimony, but in the process was also bolstering the social reckoning already becoming from newer testimonies. The acts of restoring and reckoning as Yazdiha cites as very important, are inherently intertwined. The act of restoring is necessary for the act of reckoning and the act of reckoning then goes on to further aid more restoration.
As we wrapped up our finalized display, I became a little disappointed because I did not feel like our display had restored or reckoned. I did not have such a political goal in mind when working in the archives. I was more intrigued with a snapshot of womanhood at Kenyon: photos and dates of women at the beginning, clippings that prove the existence of an active community, relatable feelings and scenes from decades past. Nothing that enflamed me to go into the world and change it. In the last couple days, I noticed this important lack, more specifically in how our display was hindered by and also aided the historical bias of women and feminism assuming "woman" as non-racial and thus "women" actually being "white women." Rather than rushing to try and uncover what we had missed in the archives, we displayed our white women: minimal restoration, minimal reckoning. In office hours this week, I guiltily admitted that I did not care enough about Doris Crozier to champion her memory's endurance. I think I have pinpointed why I just can not care that much about Doris Crozier. Because all of a sudden since I realized the gaps in our display, I have a great passion to go back to the archives and find the history that was so easy to completely overlook. I understand the restoration that could be done and the reckoning it could cause, and that is the power that Crozier's memory did not have over me. Perhaps if my conception of the present's issues were about "women" (meaning an implied non-racial/white woman), Crozier's memory would be the tool for some reckoning, but as I see the plight of white women like Crozier as not needing a more focused spotlight, it is the lack of more marginalized women that feels more worthy of repairing and reckoning.
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