In honour of the woman
that birthed and raised me.
In honour of all women that have taught me well – what to do, and at times, what not to do.
In honour of my role models – my teachers, leaders, peers and contemporaries.
In honour of my ancestors – those I have known, those I have not known and those I will never know.
In honour of those who came long before and those who are yet to come.
In honour of us – we who have shared our stories – the myriad truths of the heartbreak, harassment, healing and hope of being a woman.
In honour of we who share gender and roles – and who also rise, magnificent, in the uniqueness of our diversity, of language, culture, background and beliefs.
In honour of those who identify as women and follow their truth through the trials.
In honour of those who have accompanied me, as sisters – birth or chosen, as cousins, aunts, grandmothers, mentors, coaches, god mothers, daughters and guides.
In honour of my countless beauty-full friends – those who have stayed when all else fell away.
In honour of the writers, the artists, the activists and avatars – those who have pioneered, and with passion, pushed on, despite the adversity, opposition and arrogance of others.
In honour of us all – we who are quietly, making our planet and our children braver, safer, more kind and aware, through the daily actions of parenting and leading others.
In honour of the good men, who have supported, respected and championed these women, we women, and all the good men who continue to do so.
In honour of a day that remembers the efforts we make every day.
In honour of the big journeys we are all still undertaking towards recognition and equality.
In honour of us.
Chandu Bickford IWD (C) 2018