Gather Your Women
My dear friend, Mia Birdsong, and I wrote this piece together.
As seismic shifts continue to unsettle the foundations of all of our lives, clarity about how to respond or even be in this moment is elusive. It’s not surprising that women are unequally impacted. We already earn less, we already shoulder responsibility for caring for children, elders, and others, and we already do more emotional labor. All of these burdens are amplified if we are Black, Indigenous, or women of color. We are all having to adjust and learn new ways to hold our days and routines, our relationships, and our understanding of what we can count on.
While we are physically distanced from each other, the process of navigating this moment is something best done in the company of others. For us, we’ve found that the regular company of other women is essential. Whether you have an existing women’s group, or just a crew of friends that’s particularly bonded, now is the time to circle them up. Trust us, it’s the breath you need.
These gatherings can be facilitated in infinite ways. But if you’ve never done it before, here’s a simple structure on how:
- Get an online link (zoom, Google hangout, etc.), set a regular day (we’ve made ours every other Wednesday) and time (8:30pm worked for us because it’s after young kids are in bed), get a glass of something, and settle in for what the Celtics call a “thin place” and a “thin time” — that juncture where the daily and the sacred meet.
- The structure can be open and flexible, allowing spaciousness for everyone to check in with themselves and the group. The facilitator should open with a poem, a guided meditation, or some other way of helping people arrive at the circle. (Here are a few poems we love: “The Seven of Pentacles” by Marge Piercy, “Caged Bird” by Maya Angelou, “Legacies” by Nikki Giovanni).
3. Then offer the group a simple prompt:
How are you doing in this moment?
What are you struggling with right now What are you learning about what you’re capable of?
What parts of you are being fed and what are you needing that you’re having a hard time getting?
Whose vulnerability or suffering is heavy on your heart right now?
You might have everyone write about the prompt for several minutes before sharing. If you have a lot of people, break out rooms can be helpful for managing time and giving people a more intimate experience. Introverts, particularly, might be intimidated to share with a larger group online.
Try not to overthink the mechanics of facilitation or the kinds of questions you ask.
The real art is not in the clever questions, but in facilitating with a centered presence that taps into your awareness of the collective.
It’s almost like a sixth sense — you feel, even virtually, what the group needs in a given moment, and you take the risk of giving it. Sometimes this means simply pausing when someone has shared something particularly intense and saying, “Let’s all take a breath.”
Boundaried and firm facilitation is important since our emotions are heightened. The collective trauma we’re experiencing makes it challenging for any of us to show up as our best selves. If you’re facilitating and someone is in an acutely painful or endangered state, (and in a moment like this, a lot of us are), you will have to make a call about supporting them in real time or making a plan to come circle back to them after the gathering is over. If someone is experiencing abuse or having a mental health crisis, you are not responsible for being a therapist or counselor. Pause the conversation to acknowledge what’s happening and commit to following up. Follow up via text, email, or phone calls in the days after. And don’t be afraid to get help from others in your circle in doing so.
It’s less important that the group share advice or solutions for each others’ struggle, than you just listen to and witness each other. Giving each other room to feel and process feelings is the most valuable gift you can provide.
Not making any individual person into the story she shares on a given night, but understanding that she contains multitudes is also a gift. It frees people up to be vulnerable with less risk of having an over-sharing hangover the next day.
The ending of the gathering may not feel like completion. Sometimes it’s unsatisfying to feel like every challenge can’t be solved, or every hard feeling can’t be resolved, but that’s not what you’re going for. These gatherings are important as anchors for you and your people to take a moment to set down what you’re carrying, even if you have to pick it up the next day.
Close with a quick go-round (a few words of gratitude or a question the person is leaving with) or another poem (Ada Limon’s “Dead Stars” is a gorgeous option).
We’ve been in a women’s group together for over four years now. We don’t talk about work. We don’t talk about our kids. We talk about our inner lives. We talk about our heartbreak, our history, and our dreams. In so far as that interior, and often underappreciated, terrain intersects with our professions or parenting or any of the myriad things that women often connect around when they grab a cup of coffee, sure, but this is different.
It’s the conversation that the collective has when we settle into space out of time that is deeper and wider and more mystical.
Our circle is part of the longstanding practice of women’s circles. Around campfires and in kitchens, at card tables and in book clubs, we gather to — yes — share news and catch up, but also to create a place for our grief, pain, joy, and to know ourselves and each other more deeply. That opportunity is always welcome, and it feels acutely necessary now. Navigating the practical and emotional landscape of an unprecedented global pandemic is not something any of us can do well alone.
Mia Birdsong is a pathfinder, community curator, and storyteller who steadily engages the leadership and wisdom of people experiencing injustice to chart new visions of American life. Her new book, How We Show Up, is available for pre-order now. Courtney E. Martin is an author, entrepreneur, and facilitator, currently at work on a book about white parents and school integration.
