by Paul Telegdi
After that people came pounding on Chaiko’s back, congratulating him on his election to the society. Chaiko thought wryly what a dubious honor, all societies were so eager to add to their membership that all one needed were two legs to carry one to their meetings, and in his case, only one leg sufficed.
Around the fire that night, Chaiko sketched out his disappointments to his brother. Baer listened and then admitted that he had similar feelings at first. “They are all just men. I fancied them so tall and so wise, and looked up to them. Imagine my disillusionment. But here and there, among all the mundane things that happen, there is something important. Now, I am considered wise and powerful.” Baer laughed, inviting Chaiko to join in. But Baer was wise in a practical sort of way and was powerful for he, like Bogan, thought first of others, and that quality attracted people to him—and held them.
Later on, Dawn was telling Chaiko about her day. The Society of Mothers wanted her to join, but she was not sure for the society had issued some rather harsh words against Tara. Dawn thought that perhaps the Feathers of the Crane was a more appropriate association for her. They espoused cooperation and harmony and sought to do no harm.
“What was that?” Chaiko interrupted abruptly.
“Cooperation and harmony,” Dawn repeated. Why don’t men listen when a woman talks?
“Not that. About Tara.”
“Oh. Tara got into trouble.”
“How?”
“Apparently she went looking for Cora and found her accosted by a whole group of boys. They were joking with her and making fun of her speech. Nothing sinister, just boys having fun. But you know Cora. She got hot and by the time Tara arrived her little sister was hissing and spitting at the boys while they were just laughing at her. Especially one. Connah, a Dorgay boy. Then one of them pinched her and she squealed,” Dawn stopped to take a breath and to organize her tale as she felt that she was not doing a good enough job of it.
“Well?”
“Well, Tara stepped in. Connah blustered and words were exchanged that could not be taken back. Then things got more serious. No woman can talk to a man like that, the boy said, and took a step forward but was facing the end of Tara’s stick. Still he persisted, in front of all his comrades he had to, I guess, and Tara gave him a smart rap on his knuckles. When he charged at her, she hit him between the legs, stopping him cold. Then she held off the rest with her stick.”
“Oh-oh.”
“Yes. Oh-oh. And now everyone is up in arms about it. A woman striking a man? What next? they all ask.”
“But what has the Society of Mothers to do with this?” Chaiko queried.
“Apparently quite a lot. They hold that women should be women and should therefore not behave like men. Where would we be if we were to forget tenderness, gentleness and kindness? Should we, too, swagger about, boastfully beating our chests like the rest of male kind? No, women are women and should act and behave differently from men. Tara did not and thus invited their censure.”
“How are the men’s groups reacting to this?” Chaiko asked, concern pinching his voice.
“They? They laugh about it. It serves the boy right for misjudging Tara’s staff for a digging stick. Most figure that he got what he deserved. But even among them some feel uneasy about a woman going about armed with a weapon, and daring to level it against a man.”
“Well, it will pass,” Chaiko said dismissingly, but then thought that Tara would likely be upset; first for letting herself be so provoked, second because of all the censure the episode invited. She had seen her sister threatened and reacted accordingly.
But in this prediction Chaiko was proven wrong; the matter did not pass, but quickly grew out of proportion. Later that same night, a Sharp-Owl chief grew tired of the unending women’s talk invading his campsite. Send them away, he demanded angrily of his mate. In the midst of her female friends and companions, the woman loudly refused for all to see and hear. He turned red and then struck her, but she still refused. The women closed around her and stared down the angry man. This caused a fresh wave of protest to wash over the whole encampment. What was the world coming to? they all asked. Suddenly a private confrontation between Tara and a Dorgay boy became the intense focus of all their attention and the conflict escalated into a camp-wide male-female split. But still, up until this point, the conflict would have easily lapsed into insignificance, had it not been for some unfortunate words by none other than the great man Corrigan. It was most unfortunate that he was overheard saying to one of his minions, “The women are upset? They feel disaffected? Bah. Do I listen to flies buzzing in the summer heat and argue issues with them? Let the women buzz all they like; we have real concerns to attend to. Go buzz your complaints into ears that will listen.” Within minutes his words were all over camp, spreading faster than grass fire driven by the wind. Soon it was the main conversation piece among all the campsites, as they chewed over every aspect of it.
The women were in an uproar. You can ignore a woman, take advantage of her all her life, by all means take her for granted and never thank her, but do not insult her in her face and in front of her kind. No more, their protest swelled, as they stood together, linking hands, resolved; no more! But Tara confused the issue.
The men tended to be charitable toward Tara, feeling she had little choice but to protect her sister. But most women ventured differing opinions. “What do you men know about being a woman? We have listened to you telling us about who and what we are and said nothing. To you a woman is a mere convenience, to be used as it suits you. Women are women because Mother Nature made them different, softer, gentler, to make grace and comfort known. How will a mother succour her children? Through harshness of anger or through tenderness? How will she teach them to be human? Through punishment or encouragement? Was not mother’s milk made sweet, not bitter? So that the child will learn sweetness first. Life teaches bitterness soon enough.”
There was no ready answer to that. The men all had mothers and they had looked to them for comfort. Some expected their mates to continue where their mothers had left off, taking care of them and asking little in return.
Everyone agreed that Tara was different. The men, on the surface at least, not being mated to her, seemed inclined to live with her difference. Let that be Chandar’s concern, to teach her different if he was of a mind to. But the women could not leave it as merely a private affair. In the emotionally charged context they saw in her a dangerous attempt to redefine them. What if the men started expecting them all to act in this exotic manner. Arm women? Make them into hunters? Make them learn to fight and shed blood? No! It was time to let men know what women were really about. Hardworking and courageous, certainly, but silent and patient no longer!
So it was that Tara was held up as the very antithesis of womanly virtues and ideals; she was seen as arrogant, brash and without consideration of others. Gentleness and tenderness was the women’s battle cry.
Not so, Tara’s proponents claimed, lining up in her defence; do not vilify her for the shortcomings of your stature. A mother does not eat her daughters to appease her own needs for approval. We are not cannibals, was their bandied-about slogan.
Throughout the day the controversy grew and raged back and forth. All of the sudden, people were not interested in other topics, nor attended performances that were being offered. Why should they when much more interesting events were unfolding? It was indeed a rare event that everyone was talking of the same thing and every word that was spoken was so narrowly aimed. Even Ela expressed misgivings about women acting like men, but was quick to point out that Tara was raised a Tolmec. Most women were inclined to the same opinion, but still the outrage of the women was not placated. In fact, so vocal was the indignation that society after society was compelled to issue some opinion on the matter. More and more this issue split the camp. Thus it was that the Society of Mothers, which so harshly condemned Tara’s behaviour, formed one nucleus of protest, while the Sisters of the Moon offered a more supp
ortive and sympathetic viewpoint, largely due to Tanya’s influence. We agree that women are not men, nor should they be, the Sisters proclaimed, but women must include the likes of Tara and give them leave to be themselves.
By the afternoon things had reached such a boiling point that the whole camp was split into for and against groups. Everyone was challenged to declare themselves, including the men. Women were finally demanding the attention they felt they deserved. Vociferous gangs of them accosted men and women alike and demanded that they declare themselves. The men protested that this was none of their affair, but they were bullied and set upon so reluctantly, the men chose one or the other position. Corrigan was beside himself with fury at this development. He preferred to make his own controversies rather than be caught up in them. Vainly did he try to defuse the situation and channel it into what he felt was a more relevant direction.
Tanya with the Standing-Rock women in support resigned from the Society of Mothers, declaring that instead of supporting one of their own, they were turning on her. The mothers replied that Tara was not a mother and did not even act like a prospective one at that. Furthermore, it was their sacred duty to uphold the ideals of motherhood in particular and womanhood in general. This new escalation led to mass resignations as the societies broke into for and against sides, disgorging half their membership. The Sisters of the Moon became the focus for the minority view. One by one, the men’s groups reluctantly toed one line or the other. The prestigious Brothers of the Spear pussyfooted around the question, but their mates would not let them stay out of the issue. With voices raised men and women argued with each other. Neighbor against neighbor. Friend against friend. Mate with mate. No one had seen the like of this.
The Council of Shamans refused to be drawn into the fray though Corrigan tried to stir them up to support his view; but for once, they did not. Thus it came about that Corrigan ordered the horn to be blown. This was an unprecedented event, for the horns were used only for the opening and closing ceremonies, and the other horns replied questioning. Still after a short time people collected on the close, but they regrouped into two camps, on one side The Society of Mothers, on the other The Sisters of the Moon. The two halves then glowered at each other. The stables stood undecided between them. Corrigan chewed on his lips. This was not reflecting well on him. How could such a small issue suddenly grow into such a big storm? True the young Dorgay’s family was well connected, of an illustrious line that went as far back as any in clan memory and were vocal in their indignation. But how had such a small, insignificant episode become so emotionally charged as to totally hijack all high-minded political aims and objectives? The women, for once, demanded to be heard, on both sides of the issue. They did not let their mates sweep aside their opinions and feelings. Not this time. This had become suddenly a vital, core issue that needed to be resolved.
Tara found herself at the centre of this maelstrom, and was truly sorry to be the cause of it, but instinctively knew this was not about her any more. It was an awakening of the women; feeling the power of their collective objection, they dared to raise their voices in protest. While they were divided in their views of the matter, they stood united on being heard.
“Let men be men, Bogan had said, and women be women!” Corrigan thundered from his raised place and his mouthpiece echoed his words even louder. “Is it womanly to march about accosting one another demanding alliances? My mother would not have done so! And she was a lady. A mother of mothers.” Corrigan, in trying to shame them, was loudly booed and hissed down by both sides.
“This time we will not be silenced,” a woman shouted from the near side. Corrigan frowned and turned to find the voice. The stables stirred uneasily.
“Do you have something to say?” Corrigan demanded, using his most intimidating voice and threatening posture.
“You bet I have... as we all have. We have nursed you and fed you. Listened to you and comforted you. And we asked for nothing and made no fuss. We quietly did as we were told. But not this time! And if your mother were here today she would stand with us!” The voice rang boldly in the hushed expectation.
“Who is that?” people asked each other in whispers.
“Keko of Pelican-Sands.”
“She speaks well,” said a woman. “And loud,” added her mate less charitably.
“Well I say it is enough!” Corrigan shouted down the multitude, willing it to quiet. “Enough words have been wasted. Enough time has been lost. It is time to get on with the Gathering.”
“Not yet!” a clear voice rose from the crowd and the headwoman of the Society of Mothers pushed herself to the fore to face the livid Corrigan in open defiance.
“No. Not nearly yet,” yelled Tanya from the midst of the Sisters of the Moon. “It will be up to us women to decide what a woman is. We are tired of your definitions.” On these points both sides could agree.
For a moment Corrigan was lost for words. To face such humiliation in front of all the clans to witness. Who dared such colossal impudence? Who was conspiring against him so? He was struck speechless.
Meanwhile the women squared off in their respective groups, set to do battle for the soul of women and the ideals of womanhood. A few of the more reflective among them wondered how had it come to this? Surely not because one woman dared to be different? This confrontation, set this way, served no one’s interest! Not the women’s, of either persuasion. And certainly not the men’s. To have their mates so riled up, swarming like an angry hive... who was going to prepare food for the family?
Chaiko was profoundly disturbed by these developments. He was much too aware of his own culpability in this matter. After all he was the one who had given a Falcon to Tara, and leave to be self-reliant and independent. He saw in her the model of an emerging new woman. Now he felt his vision was being rejected by the women themselves. It was only right for them to decide for themselves what they wanted to be, but surely not this way; women lined up against women?
Dawn, standing beside Chaiko whispered in his ear, “They both want the same things— recognition for women. One would do it with Tara, the other without. We must stop them.” Fire-Dancer clung to her sister, feeling all the fierce, naked emotions raging around her. This could never happen among the Ekulan, she thought despairingly, wishing to be back home. The tense silence grew in its intensity, awaiting the outbreak of the storm that was surely coming.
“People!” Chaiko yelled, advancing into the open space, once again placing himself in-between. He lifted both his arms, spreading his feather cape wide. The strange sight of him arrested both sides, which focused their attention on him. “I, Chaiko, Shaman of the Standing-Rock Clan, herewith petition the Society of Mothers to become a member unto perpetuity.” His words were like a thunderclap in the silence, freezing every thought. “I make the same application to the Sisters of the Moon that I would gladly and wholeheartedly be their sister...”
That finally got a response from the crowd as a murmur of surprise welled up. “You are not a mother... or a sister...” came in incredulous voices from all sides.
“Exactly!” agreed Chaiko with their protest. “Still I make my application, so accept me then not as a man but as a human being.” He waited for his words to sink in the renewed quiet. “Bogan told us, whether we be men or women, we should be our best. The societies were charged to guard the best. In homage to my mother, I would gladly join the Society of Mothers and protect therefore mother’s rights. To honor my sisters I would be pleased to join The Sisters of The Moon and support their aims. For that is what the societies were meant to do! Not to exclude men or women but to enshrine their rights. Accept me therefore, I ask most respectfully of you.”
Chaiko’s words put a large hole into the conflict.
“If I am the best shaman I can be, then no fault lies with me. Same with you. Be the best mother according to your ability and no one will reproach you. Be the best father and you shall escape rebuke and people will praise you. You were born a man and
a woman without your asking, but you live by your choices and determinations every day. Your role, whether male or female, was preordained, but how you fulfill it is up to every one of you, of us. What parent shall ask is this my daughter and take no joy in her? Who among you will turn from your child because he is not a girl or she not a boy? Will you love them less when they have grown up? So I ask that you take me into your societies. I ask most sincerely and will count it a great honor.”
Ushi, who by now knew his shaman well, interjected into the shocked silence, “Me too. Take me too. I want to be a mother and a sister of the moon.”
Then by some mysterious transference there was a sudden rush as man after man clamored to be accepted into the society of women. To serve and protect women’s rights! At some level, they recognized, this was a most honorable way of ending the present crisis that threatened to split the camp and spoil the entire Gathering. Men, knowing by instinct when mutual posturing had reached a critical point, when crossing it would be irreversible, now hurried to head off that crisis. Did not the women realize this? Take me, take me, the men therefore shouted. The women regarded them with some skepticism; were they mocking them? But the sincerity was unmistakable. Even Tusk, who had little use for women otherwise, begged to be accepted. And Rea, would wonders never cease?
Tanya, too, recognizing the way out of the impasse that Chaiko had offered, turned to him and proclaimed in a loud voice, “I welcome you, Shaman, into the Sisterhood of the Moon. We sisters recognize a good woman and a good man and henceforth make no distinction between them. Good will always be good, no matter what form it takes.” She turned toward the crowd around the Society of Mothers and included them. “We truly have no quarrel with you. We shall stand by our sister Tara and her right to be different as we will respect your difference of opinion. If our words wounded any one of you, I... we apologize and beg forgiveness of you.”