Holding Onto Our Values Even When It's Hard
I am about to hit "send" on this newsletter as the US henchmen in chief launch a war on American cities and demand fealty from the Armed Forces generals or else they will be fired on the spot. No one can predict where this terrible morass is going to end, but through it all, we have to hold onto our personal values. This is the only dignity we never relinquish. I hope these newsletters provide a sense of hope and resilience.
This is a mini-edition of #SistoryLessons and one that includes two Foremothers who are not in my book Our Brave Foremothers.
I’m doing an good amount of research for my new book project these days (100 imagined interviews with Brave Sis Foremothers from around the world!) and also working to revise my online “Allyship” course that I launched last summer. The times require an entirely different approach, but our values remain the same. I can’t wait to share more about that, likely in the new year.
But today I wanted to recognize Indigenous People’s Month (October), Hispanic Heritage Month (September 15 to October 15), and also the Jewish High Holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, which many of my oldest friends observe.
In the spirit of communion, I wish to share a little about an Indigenous Mexican woman of valor, Comandanta Ramona, and Adah Isaacs Menken, a mixed-race Creole woman who converted to Judaism. These are likely unknown names to you, but both Ramona’s and Adah’s legacies should matter to us today, in these times of authoritarianism, exclusion, polarization, and erasure of non-white cultural history.
Let’s learn a bit about them and find a few points of reflection to keep us fortified, united, and in solidarity with each other. These are human qualities that we cannot let slip, no matter what the bloviators say!
What Comandanta Ramona and Adah Isaacs Menken Can Teach Us About Holding Onto Our Values, Even When It's Hard
I was interested in sharing about these two women because they both challenged toxic narratives about who matters and who gets to lead. In a media landscape that loved to either sensationalize or erase women like her, Adah crafted her own story. Ramona, who often wore a mask to protect her community, ensured that her quest—for dignity, unity, and revolutionary hope, especially for Indigenous Mexican women—never faltered.
In sharing a narrative about a woman from outside of the United States, I hope to tee up interest in the notion of Global Brave Sis—I’ll share more as the book develops! I’ve written 22 of the 100 chapters, but I am taking a little pause now to work on SistoryLessons and the revised online course. And other things… stay tuned!
Comandanta Ramona—Masked Leader of the Revolution
Chiapas, a southern Mexican state bordering Guatemala, is known for its rich Indigenous Maya heritage and lush rainforests. It is also known as the seat of Indigenous resistance to longstanding social inequity and erasure.
Chiapas was the birthplace of the Zapatista uprising in 1994, which demanded justice and autonomy for its marginalized communities. While it is still a region addled by political unrest, widespread poverty, forced displacement, and organized crime violence, it is also a proud region, full of rich traditions and an enduring push for social consciousness.
In 1959, an Indigenous Tzotzil Maya girl was born in the region’s highlands. Raised in a community where women’s lives were often defined by the patriarchy—and where poverty, racism, and government neglect loomed large—she had a vision for a better future. This is the woman known as Comandanta Ramona.
Ramona was deeply influenced by the Zapatista Uprising of 1994. Disgusted and disgruntled by decades upon decades of government neglect, and centuries of political oppression, the mostly Indigenous Zapatista Army of National Liberation (EZLN), rose up in rebellion on January 1 of that year in Chiapas, Mexico. The insurgents were opposed to NAFTA (the North American Free Trade Agreement), the US trade policy that opened Mexican markets to cheap American goods and imperiled the survival of Indigenous and small-scale farmers.
Facing a future of even more dire poverty and suffering, EZLN seized several towns in the region, demanding land rights, autonomy, democracy, and dignity for Indigenous peoples. Their highly publicized uprising sparked international alarm from the United States government—but also massive solidarity from those who believed in localized power—eventually leading to peace talks, from which the Zapatistas emerged as a global symbol of Indigenous and anti-globalization resistance.
As she was now known, Comandanta Ramona emerged, masked and resolute, as both a spokesperson for EZLN and a symbol of women’s leadership in the struggle. It was Ramona who negotiated directly with the Mexican government, carrying the demands and dreams of her people into national consciousness.
Comandanta Ramona defied gender norms for an entire generation—helping draft the Revolutionary Law of Women, a ten-point plan which won crucial rights for Indigenous women and paved the way for their participation as leaders and decision-makers. Through women’s cooperatives and grassroots organizing, she nurtured economic independence and a legacy of fierce, loving resistance.
Though she passed away in 2006 after a battle with cancer, Comandanta Ramona’s life is one we should know about and celebrate. From the margins, she was a builder, of movements and of hope. There are so very many Indigenous women to celebrate, and I hope her story inspires you to discover others!
Comandanta Ramona said ... “We came here to shout, together with everyone, that no more, never again a Mexico without us. That is what we want, a Mexico where everyone has a dignified place. For that, we are willing to participate in a great national dialogue with everyone. A dialogue where our word will be one more in many words, and our heart will be one more heart among many hearts.”
Reflection: What social change are you willing to fight for in this moment, and how, and with whom?
Adah Isaacs Menken: The Boundary-Breaker
Have you heard of Adah Isaacs Menken? She was a groundbreaking American actress, poet, and provocatrice whose life embodied radical self-invention and creative defiance.
Born on June 15, 1835, near New Orleans, her origins remain shrouded in mystery and myth, with even her name, birthplace, and background subject to multiple retellings, some invented by Adah herself, a publicity hound. It is widely believed that she laid claim to African American, white, and Creole heritage, which, given where she was born, sounds logical.
Adah was a creative and ambitious young person, interested in many facets of mid-19th-century life. Pushing the general boundaries of womanhood in the Victorian Age, she endeavored in many vocations: editing newspapers, publishing poems, and even traveling throughout Louisiana and neighboring Texas to perform Shakespearean readings onstage. As a stage actor, she became rapidly reputed for both her charisma, and her boundary-pushing performances.
Notably, she became the highest-paid actress of her era, achieving notoriety for her role in the scandalous melodrama Mazeppa, where she appeared to ride a horse nude. Her “money moves” are considered a precursor to Burlesque theater, but she was in fact wearing a flesh-colored body leotard—a birthday-suit illusion that shocked Victorian audiences, and only increased her following.
Androgynous and bohemian, Adah flouted social conventions, with short curly hair and a penchant for cigarettes. Her personal life was equally unconventional: she married several times, most memorably to Alexander Isaacs Menken, whose Jewish faith she adopted and studied deeply—becoming fluent in Hebrew and writing essays and poems about Jewish history and identity. Later, she would marry a popular Irish-American prizefighter, a literary wit, and a few other men, cruising through scandals and heartbreak. She birthed two children, but both died in infancy.
Adah’s literary circle was far-reaching, including literary lions such as Mark Twain, Walt Whitman, and Alexandre Dumas, and her poetry—published widely and collected posthumously as Infelicia—reflected passion, intellect, and advocacy, especially for Jewish causes and women’s rights.
As much of a renegade as she was, Adah took her religion seriously. She refused to perform on High Holy Days, spoke out against injustice, and, likening the plight of Jewish people to those of other oppressed societies, called for global solidarity among those who were discriminated against. She used her fame to support Civil War soldiers, and regularly spoke out against male domination and the effects of poverty on women and the working class. She gave away much of her wealth to help the poor—earning her a reputation for “reckless generosity.”
Adah Isaacs Menken, who passed away in 1868, subverted the limits of her era and blurred the conventional lines around race, gender, and faith. In some ways, she could be seen as an intersectional figure, a century and a half before its time. As an early icon for intersectional identity, radical artistry, and unapologetic living, and a reminder that there do exist many African Americans of the Jewish faith, she’s a character I am certainly interested in learning more about. I wish there existed a recording of her performances: Mazeppa or Macbeth.
Adah said: “Good women are rarely clever, and clever women are rarely good.”
Reflection: In what ways are your thoughts or actions "ahead of your times"?
Reflection and Action: Journal Prompts for Everyone
Thinking about Comandanta Ramona, consider: How does place influence your creativity? Describe a place that inspires you.
Thinking about Adah Isaacs Menken, ask yourself: What does home mean to you? Describe a place that feels like home.
HerStory / OurStory: Journal Prompts for Women of Color
Celebrating our legacy as women of color and thinking about Comandanta Ramona: How can we, as Black and BIPOC women, honor our unique histories while also showing up for one another, just as Comandanta Ramona built bridges between communities?
Celebrating our legacy as women of color and thinking about Adah Isaacs Menken: Where do you see echoes of Adah’s journey for self-acceptance reflected in your family, community, or personal story? How do you want to make that part of your daily life?
Activated Allies: Prompts and Actions for White Friends
Taking action in honor of Comandanta Ramona: Who are other little-known Indigenous women leaders you can uplift?
Taking action in honor of Adah Isaacs Menken: Adah’s story highlights both marginalization and brilliance. How does learning about her inspire you to listen, honor, and support the voices and contributions of women of color?
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What These Women Knew, and What We Must Remember
As we fight to protect ourselves against doomscrolling, lies, and dehumanization, we can be inspired by women like Comandanta Ramona and Adah Issacs Merken. Acts of creation, negotiation, and self-determination all require courage and love—of self, and of others around you. I also want to acknowledge the importance of solidarity over siloes.
When marginalized groups recognize their interconnected struggles, they can find ways to stand together, not in competition but in mutual uplift. They also embraced joy and creativity. In these times when systemic power is so crippling, remembering the stories of those who resisted and remade the world against all odds is itself an act of resistance.
Four Things I Wondered About, and Maybe You Did Too
1) Why does Hispanic Heritage Month straddle two months, September and October?
It is done in this way so that the celebration includes the independence days of several Latin American countries—Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua (all on September 15), followed by Mexico on September 16 and Chile on September 18. Seeing the pride and exuberance first-hand in Mexico, and witnessing the first female President of the Republic, Claudia Scheinbaum, deliver the famous “Grito” (Cry of Independence) was a truly invigorating moment. The leadership of righteous women is so inspiring!
2) What was the Mazzepa?
This was a 19th-century melodrama, inspired by a poem by Lord Byron, about the Ukrainian hero Ivan Mazeppa, who is punished by being tied to a wild horse. When Adah Isaacs Menken played the lead role, not only was she breaking gender norms by performing a role about a man, she also daringly wore a nude-colored bodysuit, achieving the illusion of being nude as she rode into her exile. This made her an entertainment sensation.
3) Is it Latino Heritage Month or Hispanic Heritage Month?
The holiday refers to the one-month period from mid-September to mid-October where Hispanic Heritage is celebrated. Though often used interchangeably, there is a difference between the two terms. Hispanic refers to people from or with ancestry in Spanish-speaking countries, including Spain and most of Latin America. Latino (and its derivatives, Latina, Latinx, Latine) is used to refer to people from or with ancestry in Latin America, including countries in Central and South America, and the Caribbean, regardless of language—hence Brazilians are Latino but not Hispanic.
Despite the linguistic conventions, nomenclature is often determined by region, cultural, and political identity and preference. The term Latino is generally considered more progressive than Hispanic, as it is removed from colonial Spain, and associated with many contemporary progressive and youth actitivy. Hispanic is seen by some as more conservative because it implies (even implicitly) a connection to Spain. I personally tend to use Latino and its derivatives, unless I'm writing about something related to the Census or governmental data.
4) What is the origin of Indigenous People's month?
National Native American Heritage is the result of decades of advocacy by Native leaders and organizations to honor Indigenous histories and cultures. It became a month-long observance in 1990 when Congress, with support from President George H. W. Bush, formally set aside November to recognize the achievements, contributions, and resilience of Indigenous peoples and communities.
And yes, there’s a difference between the terms, linguistically speaking. Native American specifically refers to the original peoples of what is now the United States, including Alaska and Hawaii. Indigenous, however, is a broader term that includes Native peoples from anywhere in the world—such as First Nations in Canada, Maori in New Zealand, Aboriginal Australians, and (lest we forget) Africa. Indigeneity is global!
In the United States, you will hear Native people refer to themselves in many ways: Native American, American Indian, Indigenous, First Nation People (like Canada) or sometimes by their specific tribal nation (like Navajo, Cherokee, Lakota, Ojibwe, etc.).
Follow their lead in how they speak of themselves.