Michfest diaspora

A diaspora (from Greek διασπορά, "scattering, dispersion") is a scattered population with a common origin in a smaller geographic locale.

HART, Michigan

 Re-entry is difficult. I've been away from work and stress and home and loneliness for 7 days. Surrounded by voices and bodies of womyn, the sound of the shuttle, tent zippers, and the performers and artists on stages. My first trip was in the early nineties and my last is now a memory. I am so incredibly sad that the 40th was declared the last. I never feel safer or more sisterly love than when I am at Michfest.

 The festival was an opening for me. It nourished me, it helped me define my self. I had a strong sense of belonging when there, a land where womyn from all over the world gathered, only womyn. seven days all made by womyn who wanted it, needed it so they created it and sustained it.  Womyn confident and strong, amazon womyn.

 I went by myself this time. Robbie and Julie and I drove there a day early to get in line for our favored camping spots. We were in the first 100 cars. Spent the day meeting womyn, being excited, laughing and just enjoying us..in anticipation of what would happen next. We slept overnight in our cars.  I camped by myself in over 50's. I got up every morning and made my way as an observer in a place I knew I was going to lose, that was never going to be again.

I attended the Allies in Understanding workshops again this year. Which helped me get through those final days ..to help carry myself forward in this loss and to remember all that was great and good and original and spiritual about myself and my time there.  We reminded ourselves about radical listening, discussed our impending diaspora and what people do to remind themselves of their lost land and culture, how to remember through food, and create rituals to keep it close and never forgotten. We talked about the importance of stories as a way not to disappear.

All this made me think about my own story. The story of my steps to the place I occupy now and my steps to where I want to go. Importance of story. I also felt validated for all the work I have done in my womyn's community as we recognized the lesbain feminist activism that brought so much forward in the lives of womyn. Starting with my activism and rights for single mom's, ERA campaigning, Everywoman Opportunity Center, Simple Gifts for the women's shelter, work against rape and sexual assault, Ujima, HAG, and now work in diversity and inclusion in philanthropy.

...please help this lovely and emotional woman.

On the last day I rose and struck what had been my shelter for a week, my campsite and gear. I packed up and carried it down to the shuttle stop, five trips I think. I was sweaty and exhausted physically and so sad. Had breakfast and said goodbye to R and J and headed off to get my gear loaded and get to the gate.But in my last moments I had made a mistake, I hauled all my stuff to a drop off not a pick up spot. I turned right when I should have turned left. The womyn driving the tractor was clear about where I should be and the rules, and really unwilling to help. I knew I could not carry all the gear to the right spot it was too far and I was spent. So I walked across to the night stage security post and asked for help from a womyn I had never met.  Susan saw me. Me, through my exhaustion and emotional tears. Susan was reassuring and kind and confident that she could help me, one womyn of 6000+. She began working the short wave radio and asked the tractor driver on her next swing around if  I could please jump on with my gear. Tractor lady said no. It was comforting that Susan was willing to help me. After a while I suggested that maybe I could haul everything to DART and catch a ride to the gate there and she agreed it was worth a try. I asked her how will I convince them to let me on a vehicle to the gate, and she said I am going to write you a note. I hauled my gear in three trips to DART and handed the note to the womyn in charge of gate shuttles there. She was kind and helpful, and did not judge the situation just accepted me and cautioned about a wait, and I was content to wait. Then I heard my name being called, and there was a womyn standing there who had been sent by Susan to get me to the gate. Susan had not dropped her promise to help me. She remembered I was there in need. We took my gear to the van and headed out for the gate with one stop to pick up two families at Sprouts. My eyes starting tearing again behind my big sunglasses when I felt the driver's hands take hold of mine. A simple gentle act of kindness, a touch to reassure me that she saw me, felt my pain and understood. She and I chatted all the way to the gate and she invited me to the Ohio womyn,s music festival in Sept. which I am considering. I will never forget these last few moments on the land, and remember the power of gentle kindness between womyn.