Bitchcraft
“It took me quite a long time to develop a voice, and now that I have it, I am not going to be silent.” – Madeleine Albright
My son gave me the title for this essay. We were celebrating his birthday with dinner at a local Chinese restaurant and catching each other up on our creative projects. He’s a graphic artist and a musician. I told him that I was working on an essay that explored the word bitch, how it is applied to women, how women apply the word to themselves, and how we could use its power to navigate a world loaded with minefields of ‘isms’ (sexism, racism, ageism, liberalism, conservatism, nativism, populism and so on). I was going to call it, The Bitch Has a Voice.
That idea came to me last spring when I walked into my local library and passed a display of new books. One title caught my eye; “The Bitch is Back.” I yanked it off the shelf, checked it out and devoured it. Then I went back for the earlier book, “The Bitch in the House.” They are a collection of essays edited by Cathi Hanauer. They illuminate the lives of a diverse group of women who wrote about their struggles, successes, views about themselves and their place in the world. I devoured that one too.
I don’t buy a lot of books because I live in a smallish condo and don’t have the space to hold any but the books I know that I will re-read. These two books met my criterion for shelf space and so I bought them. They have a permanent place on my bedside table where I can easily re-visit the honest, heartfelt and often-humorous voices of those women when I need a reminder of what it can mean to be seen as a bitch. I was, as they say, on fire, with the idea.
After telling my son about it, he suggested I consider Bitchcraft as the title. I loved it because the word craft is defined as an art, trade or occupation that requires a special skill. Using Bitchcraft to navigate a world loaded with ‘isms’ requires considerable skill.
The dictionary definition of bitch is female dog. In patriarchal slang it means a woman who is unreasonable, belligerent, bossy or aggressive. In a feminist context, it means a strong and assertive woman. To a misogynist, a strong assertive woman is unreasonable, belligerent, bossy or aggressive, in other words, a Bitch with no and not sweet, demure and agreeable qualities. Gloria Steinem, the feminist activist, has given women a perfect way to respond when the ‘B’ word is tossed our way, “The best thing, I’ve thought of to say when someone calls you a Bitch is, ‘Thank you.’ ”
That’s a great response when one is called a Bitch out loud, but whenever a woman is objectified, ignored, devalued, or disrespected and responds with anger, resistance or pushback, she is seen as a Bitch even if no one utters the word. The craft in Bitchcraft is knowing how to manage the anger, resist, pushback, and clearly make your point in an authentic, conscious voice delivered without apology. I do that more consistently now, but my journey has been a long and winding spiral in what I call the three stages of Bitchcraft.
My journey toward Stage 3 has taken many years with several steps forward and more than a few steps back.
In my younger days, my one note reaction to being ignored, insulted, objectified or treated as ‘less than’ was anger, but I’d stuff, repress or control it in order to present myself as the good girl I’d been trained to be. That is pure Stage 1.
For example, during my freshman year at college, my English professor asked us to write a report on our favorite work of literature; something of meaning that is considered to have lasting importance. My report was on Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. It was my favorite at the time because of the character Jo, a young woman who had a hot temper and was considered in those days to be a nonconformist, less interested in ‘womanly ways’ and more interested in exploring her own interests which were reading, writing and her individuality. I so related to Jo. I wrote and submitted my paper.
A few days later in class, the professor gave us feedback. He said something I have never forgotten: “Someone in this class actually thinks that the book Little Women is literature.” Then he laughed. I was mortified and pissed. Didn’t he know that Little Women had been, and still is, one of the most iconic books in American literary history? Was he dismissing it because a woman wrote it? At the time I did not have the language, self-awareness or self-confidence to challenge or protest, so I stuffed my anger and seethed in silence.
That was my typical reaction for many years. The stuffing, repressing and controlling led to a whole heap of stress related problems like headaches, colds, rashes, stomachaches and constipation. When being a ‘good girl’ got to be a real drag, something had to give. When I finally found my voice and used it, it was raw, snarky and held nothing back.
One of those moments came while I was working as the public affairs director at a local television station. My job was to produce, local ‘talking head’ shows and documentaries. I was having a problem working with some of the male production staff on a show. Was it because I was Black, a woman, and a young twenty something or all of the above? I’ll never know for sure.
In an effort to straighten out the problem, I went to talk to the production director. When I walked into his office, he was chatting with the news director. I was admittedly a bit hot under the collar, but I was not rude. I asked for help to get the support I needed to do my job. The production basically ignored me and as I turned to leave, I heard him say to the news director, “What a Bitch!” I turned back and without missing a beat, acknowledged that I’d heard them and let loose with, “Maybe I am a Bitch, but I’m a good Bitch. I’ve worked long and hard because I care about what I do and if that makes me a Bitch in your minds so be it!”
I watched their mouths drop open and then I walked out of the office, still pissed but satisfied because I gave as good as I got.
Was I unreasonable, belligerent, bossy or aggressive? Probably. I was in their eyes and maybe a little bit in mine. But if I was going to be seen as a Bitch, then I was going to be the best Bitch possible. That’s when I took the power of the word Bitch back and internalized it. It was Stage 2. It felt good, but it wasn’t full Bitchcraft.
It was easier to practice my new Bitchcraft skills in the workplace. After all, my co-workers weren’t family, or best friends and I didn’t go home to them at the end of the day. My personal life was another minefield that I had to navigate my way through step by step in order to take my Bitchcraft skills closer to Stage 3, the professional level.
Take relationships. I have come to the conclusion that I am not suited to the institution of marriage. For some reason, or maybe several reasons, I have two failed marriages behind me as proof. While dating, both men seemed to be very comfortable with my resilience, strength and independence. And I was clear about that with both of them. I’d hold out an open hand, use the index finger of the other to point to the center of my palm and explain, in so many words, that my index finger was me, and my open palm, our relationship. As long as the hand of our relationship was open, I would be loyal, trustworthy and committed. The minute I felt the fingers of our relationship tightening around my ability to be me, I would be gone.
The fact that I’m no longer married tells you that neither man listened, and I was not able to figure out a way to deal with either relationship. Maybe I chose badly. Back then, like a little puppy, I trusted anyone who paid attention to me. Yes, I was naïve and dependent on others to feel okay. Yes, I was at the same time, stubborn and outspoken about what I saw as right or wrong. Yes, I was also a co-dependent perfectionist who felt that it was my responsibility to make things right. Yes, I hadn’t dealt with the ways in which I was not perfect and was in fact, broken in a lot of places. And yes, I was (and still am) a work in progress. Amid all of this, my Bitchcraft was in the toddler stage, but when confronted with misogynistic situations, I got angry and verbalized it in no uncertain terms.
My first marriage was fairly typical. It started with passion and optimism right up to the time I began to question the traditional wife/mother role I was living in the early 1970’s. We both worked, but I did most of the housework, childcare, cooking and cleaning. Sound familiar? My efforts to discuss this were met with laughter or silence. I was ignored. Then I got involved in political community work, helping with voter registration. Why did I add one more thing to my list? It was outside work and a distraction to the growing unhappiness with my life.
It all came to a head one day as I got into my car to attend a meeting. The passenger side door opened and my husband pointed his shotgun at me. My reaction? Full force eruption. Raw anger flared up. The inner Bitch roared. I stared him down and dared him to pull the trigger. WTF?! I look back at that now and wonder what the hell was I thinking? Probably, I wasn’t. I was feeling and reacting. I often wonder what he was thinking. I don’t have a clue. We were divorced soon after.
My second marriage was basically a repeat of the first, because I had not learned how to apply the skills necessary to navigate an intimate relationship. I didn’t know how to be a compassionate partner and still be authentically me. I didn’t know when to stand my ground or give some up. This man’s weapons were words and emotional abuse. According to him, I was failing at my responsibilities and was too emotional. I read too much; I didn’t know how to love etcetera, etcetera, and etcetera. As the relationship closed in around my ability to be myself, I retreated into Stage 1, with silent fuming, stuffing, repressing my anger and checking out a slew of relationship books from the library.
One day, I was deep into work on my masters thesis, and yes, I still needed something outside of my home as a distraction to my growing unhappiness, when I was interrupted for a spewing of the same litany of words and put downs. If that approach was supposed to make me feel guilty and lapse back into a Stage 1 co-dependent perfectionist, it failed. Armed with a new strategy from one of those relationship books, I turned to face him and calmly said in so many words, “You’re right, and if I’m all those things you say, then I don’t understand why you are still here and married to me. Maybe you need to find someone else.” His response was shocked silence and retreat. Without another word he walked away. My Bitchcraft skills had inched closer to Stage 3.
That brings me to the present. After a lot of self-reflection and a couple of good therapists, I alternate between Stages 2 and 3. I use every bit of my hard won self-awareness to pick and choose relationships wisely, to look before I leap into a situation, and say no to toxic people and situations with as much compassion and kindness as I can muster. I stand up for myself and my integrity. This, plus growing older and wiser, has drastically cut down on the number and type of situations that call for Bitchcraft. When they happen and my default irritation anger cycle is triggered, I am able to acknowledge my feelings, even if I still end up voicing them voice in a Stage 2 way. It’s a process!
When situations do not trigger my default irritation/anger reaction, my new wisdom allows me to take a mental step back and assess the situation. What I often see is that I am being confronted with ignorance and insensitivity and that the real problem is on their end not mine. That gives me the freedom to make a conscious decision about how to respond.
For example, I belong to a professional organization for writers and publishers. When I first joined, its members participated in a variety of craft fairs. The person who arranged them was drill sergeant efficient and organized, and the events went off without a hitch.
Then came a glitch. I misread the instructions for an event and brought the wrong size table. The people I shared the space with helped me place the table so it fit and did not encroach on anyone else’s space. The organizer came over and made a big issue about it. I calmly explained what had happened and how as a group, we had solved the problem. The next day the organizer posted on the group’s Facebook page and again made and issue out of the incident. I took a deep breath, posted back to the group and apologized for any inconvenience I had caused. The organizer also sent me a personal email castigating me again for making the mistake and copied the organization’s president. I was flabbergasted, pissed, and my fingers itched with the urge to respond at Bitchcraft Stage 2. I wisely put that urge on hold and decided that since I had apologized to the group, I did not need to engage in an exchange with the organizer. Later that day, I received an apology from the president and a few hours later, the organizer posted on Facebook announcing that she would no longer organize our events. Hello, Bitchcraft Stage 3!
However, I am still, like all of you, a work in progress. Sometimes, I find myself slipping back into the first two Bitchcraft stages but when my Witness is awake and working, I am more aware of it when it happens and can, as they say, change course in the middle of the stream. If I can do it, so can you!
Now that you have an idea of what I mean by Bitchcraft, you’ll need a way to perfect your own Bitchcraft skills. Here’s an assertiveness technique that works for me and I’m sure it can help you!
It’s the acronym: SASSY.
Definitions of the word SASSY range from impudent and cheeky to lively, bold, full of spirit and possessing an amazing amount of cool. I can work with the positive meanings. A SASSY woman is one who embodies the following qualities:
Pick the SASSY quality that speaks to you, and practice, practice, practice until you feel comfortable, competent and natural.
Good luck honing your Bitchcraft skills!
My son gave me the title for this essay. We were celebrating his birthday with dinner at a local Chinese restaurant and catching each other up on our creative projects. He’s a graphic artist and a musician. I told him that I was working on an essay that explored the word bitch, how it is applied to women, how women apply the word to themselves, and how we could use its power to navigate a world loaded with minefields of ‘isms’ (sexism, racism, ageism, liberalism, conservatism, nativism, populism and so on). I was going to call it, The Bitch Has a Voice.
That idea came to me last spring when I walked into my local library and passed a display of new books. One title caught my eye; “The Bitch is Back.” I yanked it off the shelf, checked it out and devoured it. Then I went back for the earlier book, “The Bitch in the House.” They are a collection of essays edited by Cathi Hanauer. They illuminate the lives of a diverse group of women who wrote about their struggles, successes, views about themselves and their place in the world. I devoured that one too.
I don’t buy a lot of books because I live in a smallish condo and don’t have the space to hold any but the books I know that I will re-read. These two books met my criterion for shelf space and so I bought them. They have a permanent place on my bedside table where I can easily re-visit the honest, heartfelt and often-humorous voices of those women when I need a reminder of what it can mean to be seen as a bitch. I was, as they say, on fire, with the idea.
After telling my son about it, he suggested I consider Bitchcraft as the title. I loved it because the word craft is defined as an art, trade or occupation that requires a special skill. Using Bitchcraft to navigate a world loaded with ‘isms’ requires considerable skill.
The dictionary definition of bitch is female dog. In patriarchal slang it means a woman who is unreasonable, belligerent, bossy or aggressive. In a feminist context, it means a strong and assertive woman. To a misogynist, a strong assertive woman is unreasonable, belligerent, bossy or aggressive, in other words, a Bitch with no and not sweet, demure and agreeable qualities. Gloria Steinem, the feminist activist, has given women a perfect way to respond when the ‘B’ word is tossed our way, “The best thing, I’ve thought of to say when someone calls you a Bitch is, ‘Thank you.’ ”
That’s a great response when one is called a Bitch out loud, but whenever a woman is objectified, ignored, devalued, or disrespected and responds with anger, resistance or pushback, she is seen as a Bitch even if no one utters the word. The craft in Bitchcraft is knowing how to manage the anger, resist, pushback, and clearly make your point in an authentic, conscious voice delivered without apology. I do that more consistently now, but my journey has been a long and winding spiral in what I call the three stages of Bitchcraft.
- Stage 1. Quiet fuming, stuffing and repressing reactions to being objectified, ignored, devalued, or disrespected
- Stage 2. Raw snarky, lip-curling anger that holds nothing back
- Stage 3. Sassy, self-aware and polished authentic responses without apology
My journey toward Stage 3 has taken many years with several steps forward and more than a few steps back.
In my younger days, my one note reaction to being ignored, insulted, objectified or treated as ‘less than’ was anger, but I’d stuff, repress or control it in order to present myself as the good girl I’d been trained to be. That is pure Stage 1.
For example, during my freshman year at college, my English professor asked us to write a report on our favorite work of literature; something of meaning that is considered to have lasting importance. My report was on Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. It was my favorite at the time because of the character Jo, a young woman who had a hot temper and was considered in those days to be a nonconformist, less interested in ‘womanly ways’ and more interested in exploring her own interests which were reading, writing and her individuality. I so related to Jo. I wrote and submitted my paper.
A few days later in class, the professor gave us feedback. He said something I have never forgotten: “Someone in this class actually thinks that the book Little Women is literature.” Then he laughed. I was mortified and pissed. Didn’t he know that Little Women had been, and still is, one of the most iconic books in American literary history? Was he dismissing it because a woman wrote it? At the time I did not have the language, self-awareness or self-confidence to challenge or protest, so I stuffed my anger and seethed in silence.
That was my typical reaction for many years. The stuffing, repressing and controlling led to a whole heap of stress related problems like headaches, colds, rashes, stomachaches and constipation. When being a ‘good girl’ got to be a real drag, something had to give. When I finally found my voice and used it, it was raw, snarky and held nothing back.
One of those moments came while I was working as the public affairs director at a local television station. My job was to produce, local ‘talking head’ shows and documentaries. I was having a problem working with some of the male production staff on a show. Was it because I was Black, a woman, and a young twenty something or all of the above? I’ll never know for sure.
In an effort to straighten out the problem, I went to talk to the production director. When I walked into his office, he was chatting with the news director. I was admittedly a bit hot under the collar, but I was not rude. I asked for help to get the support I needed to do my job. The production basically ignored me and as I turned to leave, I heard him say to the news director, “What a Bitch!” I turned back and without missing a beat, acknowledged that I’d heard them and let loose with, “Maybe I am a Bitch, but I’m a good Bitch. I’ve worked long and hard because I care about what I do and if that makes me a Bitch in your minds so be it!”
I watched their mouths drop open and then I walked out of the office, still pissed but satisfied because I gave as good as I got.
Was I unreasonable, belligerent, bossy or aggressive? Probably. I was in their eyes and maybe a little bit in mine. But if I was going to be seen as a Bitch, then I was going to be the best Bitch possible. That’s when I took the power of the word Bitch back and internalized it. It was Stage 2. It felt good, but it wasn’t full Bitchcraft.
It was easier to practice my new Bitchcraft skills in the workplace. After all, my co-workers weren’t family, or best friends and I didn’t go home to them at the end of the day. My personal life was another minefield that I had to navigate my way through step by step in order to take my Bitchcraft skills closer to Stage 3, the professional level.
Take relationships. I have come to the conclusion that I am not suited to the institution of marriage. For some reason, or maybe several reasons, I have two failed marriages behind me as proof. While dating, both men seemed to be very comfortable with my resilience, strength and independence. And I was clear about that with both of them. I’d hold out an open hand, use the index finger of the other to point to the center of my palm and explain, in so many words, that my index finger was me, and my open palm, our relationship. As long as the hand of our relationship was open, I would be loyal, trustworthy and committed. The minute I felt the fingers of our relationship tightening around my ability to be me, I would be gone.
The fact that I’m no longer married tells you that neither man listened, and I was not able to figure out a way to deal with either relationship. Maybe I chose badly. Back then, like a little puppy, I trusted anyone who paid attention to me. Yes, I was naïve and dependent on others to feel okay. Yes, I was at the same time, stubborn and outspoken about what I saw as right or wrong. Yes, I was also a co-dependent perfectionist who felt that it was my responsibility to make things right. Yes, I hadn’t dealt with the ways in which I was not perfect and was in fact, broken in a lot of places. And yes, I was (and still am) a work in progress. Amid all of this, my Bitchcraft was in the toddler stage, but when confronted with misogynistic situations, I got angry and verbalized it in no uncertain terms.
My first marriage was fairly typical. It started with passion and optimism right up to the time I began to question the traditional wife/mother role I was living in the early 1970’s. We both worked, but I did most of the housework, childcare, cooking and cleaning. Sound familiar? My efforts to discuss this were met with laughter or silence. I was ignored. Then I got involved in political community work, helping with voter registration. Why did I add one more thing to my list? It was outside work and a distraction to the growing unhappiness with my life.
It all came to a head one day as I got into my car to attend a meeting. The passenger side door opened and my husband pointed his shotgun at me. My reaction? Full force eruption. Raw anger flared up. The inner Bitch roared. I stared him down and dared him to pull the trigger. WTF?! I look back at that now and wonder what the hell was I thinking? Probably, I wasn’t. I was feeling and reacting. I often wonder what he was thinking. I don’t have a clue. We were divorced soon after.
My second marriage was basically a repeat of the first, because I had not learned how to apply the skills necessary to navigate an intimate relationship. I didn’t know how to be a compassionate partner and still be authentically me. I didn’t know when to stand my ground or give some up. This man’s weapons were words and emotional abuse. According to him, I was failing at my responsibilities and was too emotional. I read too much; I didn’t know how to love etcetera, etcetera, and etcetera. As the relationship closed in around my ability to be myself, I retreated into Stage 1, with silent fuming, stuffing, repressing my anger and checking out a slew of relationship books from the library.
One day, I was deep into work on my masters thesis, and yes, I still needed something outside of my home as a distraction to my growing unhappiness, when I was interrupted for a spewing of the same litany of words and put downs. If that approach was supposed to make me feel guilty and lapse back into a Stage 1 co-dependent perfectionist, it failed. Armed with a new strategy from one of those relationship books, I turned to face him and calmly said in so many words, “You’re right, and if I’m all those things you say, then I don’t understand why you are still here and married to me. Maybe you need to find someone else.” His response was shocked silence and retreat. Without another word he walked away. My Bitchcraft skills had inched closer to Stage 3.
That brings me to the present. After a lot of self-reflection and a couple of good therapists, I alternate between Stages 2 and 3. I use every bit of my hard won self-awareness to pick and choose relationships wisely, to look before I leap into a situation, and say no to toxic people and situations with as much compassion and kindness as I can muster. I stand up for myself and my integrity. This, plus growing older and wiser, has drastically cut down on the number and type of situations that call for Bitchcraft. When they happen and my default irritation anger cycle is triggered, I am able to acknowledge my feelings, even if I still end up voicing them voice in a Stage 2 way. It’s a process!
When situations do not trigger my default irritation/anger reaction, my new wisdom allows me to take a mental step back and assess the situation. What I often see is that I am being confronted with ignorance and insensitivity and that the real problem is on their end not mine. That gives me the freedom to make a conscious decision about how to respond.
For example, I belong to a professional organization for writers and publishers. When I first joined, its members participated in a variety of craft fairs. The person who arranged them was drill sergeant efficient and organized, and the events went off without a hitch.
Then came a glitch. I misread the instructions for an event and brought the wrong size table. The people I shared the space with helped me place the table so it fit and did not encroach on anyone else’s space. The organizer came over and made a big issue about it. I calmly explained what had happened and how as a group, we had solved the problem. The next day the organizer posted on the group’s Facebook page and again made and issue out of the incident. I took a deep breath, posted back to the group and apologized for any inconvenience I had caused. The organizer also sent me a personal email castigating me again for making the mistake and copied the organization’s president. I was flabbergasted, pissed, and my fingers itched with the urge to respond at Bitchcraft Stage 2. I wisely put that urge on hold and decided that since I had apologized to the group, I did not need to engage in an exchange with the organizer. Later that day, I received an apology from the president and a few hours later, the organizer posted on Facebook announcing that she would no longer organize our events. Hello, Bitchcraft Stage 3!
However, I am still, like all of you, a work in progress. Sometimes, I find myself slipping back into the first two Bitchcraft stages but when my Witness is awake and working, I am more aware of it when it happens and can, as they say, change course in the middle of the stream. If I can do it, so can you!
Now that you have an idea of what I mean by Bitchcraft, you’ll need a way to perfect your own Bitchcraft skills. Here’s an assertiveness technique that works for me and I’m sure it can help you!
It’s the acronym: SASSY.
Definitions of the word SASSY range from impudent and cheeky to lively, bold, full of spirit and possessing an amazing amount of cool. I can work with the positive meanings. A SASSY woman is one who embodies the following qualities:
- Strength: Tap into your inner strength
- Authenticity: Express yourself in clear and compassionate ways
- Skill: Practice, practice, practice
- Serenity: Find ways to reduce your stress
- Young at heart: Keep your inner child alive no matter your age
Pick the SASSY quality that speaks to you, and practice, practice, practice until you feel comfortable, competent and natural.
Good luck honing your Bitchcraft skills!
