A View from the Kitchen Table

My thoughts the day after International Women's Day

Hey guys! I’m publishing my weekly Substack a few days early because, as you’ll read, it makes sense to send it as close as possible to International Women’s Day. 

Yesterday, March 8, was International Women’s Day, and March is Women’s History Month. Can we all agree it’s been a weird time for women? 

I loved one of my favorite Instagram personality’s takes on International Women’s Day. Caitlin Murray of @bigtimeadulting said, keep your day and give us our fundamental rights. But then, political commentator/historian Heather Cox Richardson’s March 8th Substack told me that my beloved TV show, “Little House on the Prairie,” helped pave the way for Ronald Reagan to become president, and I had a mini-meltdown. Was my desire to live in a time when we milked our own cows part of the problem? 

And then, the night before International Women’s Day, there was that very odd kitchen speech by Alabama Senator Katie Britt in her fundie baby voice. I disagreed with everything Britt said, but mocking a woman for her voice’s cadence bums me out. I also get annoyed when people make fun of vocal fry. Can we focus on the content of what the women are saying, not how they say it? 

And I have mixed feelings about dissing her for taping her speech from her kitchen. I love a kitchen. We all love kitchens. It’s always where the action is, whether it’s a man or a woman cooking in it. My sponsor took me through the 12 steps at her kitchen table. It was at Bill W.’s kitchen table where his newly sober friend Ebby visited him, and thus, his journey to creating Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) began. Kitchens, to me, are sacred. So I’m upset Senator Britt spewed her bullshit right-wing viewpoints from the kitchen, while on the flip side, also upset the media said it is a bad look for a woman to be in the kitchen.  

Anyway, back to International Women’s Day. I don’t need a day to acknowledge what women mean to me. I grew up surrounded by strong female role models. Yes, my father wore dress shoes, and my mother wore Keds, but we all know who ruled our roost, even as my mother made dinner for my father every night. Her mother, my Nanny, was the matriarch of our extended family, and I had and have strong, intelligent, independent aunts, cousins, in-laws, nieces, etc.  

And then, there are my female friendships. Throughout my life, my friends have carried me through some of my darkest times, primarily just by being there for me. I was particularly affected by this poem I stumbled across on social media. I took a screenshot of it and sent it around to my friends. I searched for its author but couldn’t find out who wrote it! If anyone knows, please drop the poet’s name in the comments. UPDATE: The poem was written by Katie Baer. (Thanks, Jenna!) 

The lines, “There is very little women choose to keep from one another. How lucky we are to know a love like this.” Oh (wo)man, every time I read that, it is such a beautiful punch to the gut. How lucky indeed!

Can I tell you about the wonderful women of recovery? When I raised my hand and shared at my first AA meeting, which thankfully was a women’s step meeting, the women surrounded me in a protective bubble, told me I never had to feel this way again, and showed me how to get sober.¹

For obvious reasons, I read a lot of recovery memoirs, and when in Quit Like a Woman, Holly Whitaker called AA a patriarchy, I laughed out loud. I can guarantee the men in my home group don’t feel like our group is run by men. Just come to one of our business meetings.² 

Yes, if you read AA’s recovery manual, Alcoholics Anonymous, aka The Big Book. (Do I need to keep saying that, or do you all know what I mean by now when I say The Big Book?) But anyway, if you read it today in 2024, the text seems outdated, out of touch, and misogynistic. There is a chapter called “To the Wives,” which is particularly offensive. Until, in your desperation to get sober, you let go of your resentment and try to understand that this book was written in 1938, and of course, things were a bit different back then. Once I opened my mind, I could see that the “To the Wives” chapter, in its offensive way, applied to nearly everyone who loves an alcoholic, whether that person is a wife, husband, or significant other of any kind.

Back to the women of AA, I’m not BFF with ALL the women in my sober network. But I know I can call on any one of them at any point, and they will help me. It’s like having one of those firefighter … and yes, I specifically didn’t say “firemen” because women fight fires, too! … It’s like having one of those firefighter safety nets underneath me at all times. The knowledge that I’m surrounded by a protective group of women is so comforting. They will not let me fall.  

One of the things that I find so endearing is that each of us has something we are known for, an issue we can help others with. Oh, you’re having problems with a work colleague? Call Suzy; she dealt with that last year. Oh, your child has been diagnosed with a learning disability? Call Lisa; her son is autistic. We are like a Rolodex³ of lived experiences that we use to help each other. Where am I filed? Some things I’m known for are craving alcohol long after I put down the drink (like, at least a year) or dealing with marital or parenting issues.

Anyway, back to International Women’s Day, like Caitlin Murray said while she danced freely IN HER KITCHEN to Aretha Franklin’s “Think,” “Burn those bullshit girl power shirts.” We don’t need a t-shirt to tell us we have power. And I’ll add, for fuck’s sake, please use your vote to save the rights of women.   

1. I shared this scene, my first AA meeting, which is an excerpt from my memoir SOBER MOM, at a Project Write Now Writer’s Celebration.

2. Yes, my AA homegroup has “business meetings.” Once a month, we get together and vote on issues affecting either our specific meeting, such as who is in charge of cleaning up, or issues that affect the larger organization, such as should we change the outdated language in The Big Book. It is as democratic as it can get.  

3. I’d define Rolodex, but let’s face it, no youngins are reading my Substack. You all know what I’m talking about.