Let them eat cake

This morning I took a Metro paper on my way down to the LRT station. I already had Plato's Republic in my hand, but sometimes I like to catch up with what's happening in the world "out there." When I got to the platform and opened the paper, I was shaken by the story on the front page. It covers the lack of legislation to protect Native women in the dissolution of an abusive marriage. Native women who need to extricate themselves from the relationship often have limited options for housing and safety. There is no legal provision for them to have the right to stay in their homes and have the abuser leave. According to Canada's Indian Act, men are the head of their households, and women do not have equal rights to property. Neither do they, in application, have equal access to protection, community support, and legal help.

The story hit close to home. As a woman who was driven to choose to leave my home--because he wouldn't leave--I was ignorant of the protective, community, and legal supports available to me, even as a Caucasian woman. I was fortunate enough to have had a stable job, and decent credit, so I could qualify to rent a small place and furnish it with the help of a credit card. I was helped by friends to find a lawyer, and was directed to Legal Aid to help me with the ongoing court battles. But I didn't utilize even one quarter of the resources available to me, because I didn't know they were there. And I still don't have life as easy as I could have it, had I known then what my rights were.

As I read the story, I tried to put myself in the shoes of a Native woman trying to make her life better by recognizing she deserves to be treated decently, and getting out of an abusive relationship. It's enough of a struggle, even with support and means. But without those, I think it must be near impossible. Even in mainstream Western culture, where we have supports, the average woman goes back to her abuser seven times before she leaves for good. Imagine if she had no help, no shelter, no protection!

I realized that, as a Caucasian Canadian and American woman, I have a lot of rights that I just assume others have, too. I've sat in my Womens' Studies classes, half-offended when the teacher makes derogatory remarks about the "ideal woman": tall, blonde, blue-eyed, thin. I want to raise my hand and say, "Hi, I'm sitting right here, and I'm not a bad person for having those qualities. I don't take other peoples' rights away by having those qualities, and I've been through the same societal abuses toward women that you're speaking out against, so give me a break, and let me be!"

But maybe the reason some people have such a problem with people like me, is that I don't realize how privileged I really am. I assume, like Marie Antoinette, that everyone has cake, if they don't have bread. While I still think their disdain is misdirected (it'd be more productive to work to give the underprivileged more rights than to try to take mine away), I can understand why people would resent me for not understanding that they don't have the rights I have.

So, what to do? I'm not a policymaker. I can't change the laws for Native women. At this point, I don't even personally know any Native women. But it's time for change. It's time for all people to have the same rights, just because they're people. And it's time for me to speak up and say so.