Women’s Work

Women’s Work is a powerful, stunning book that chronicles–in extraordinary photographs and inspiring text–the lives and work of more than sixty women. They are funeral directors and firefighters, pig farmers and blacksmiths, pilot and cowgirls, ranch owners, gold miners, beekeepers. I am honored to be included. People are always saying/ writing about how they are “honored” to be included or mentioned or to have won something. This is the common parlance of the so-called Humble Brag that we see on Facebook, which I hope you despise as much as I do.

So let me explain the sincerity of my being “honored.” The photographer whose vision—intellectual, cultural, artistic—shaped this book is an exceptional talent, the kind of talent that does not have to announce itself, that works quietly and intensely and humbly. Being in his presence, being the object of his gaze for this photo shoot was the first honor. (We had worked together several years before when he flew west to do a photo shoot for Prevention magazine story I wrote.)

The other honor is the more obvious one: These women! Their energy, their boldness, their perseverance, their commitment. The authority in their faces. The strength of their bodies. To be in the their midst empowers me. I was selected not because my work as a writer breaks gender stereotypes but because of my work teaching writing in a maximum security penitentiary to convicted murderers and my book chronicling the lives they live inside.

The photography is all Chris Crisman’s. The accompanying text is written by the women themselves. I think the mix is a wham-bang.

About my image: It was made on the grounds of Oregon State Penitentiary, just to the right of the entrance. We had hoped to shoot inside, or at least by the release gate, but that was not to be. My time inside, including close to one hundred writing group sessions with the men over a period for four years, was often filled with humor. But I did not want to smile for this photograph. Prison is a hostile, toxic environment. Those who survive, those who change and transform—like many of the writers I worked with—do so despite not because of their years of punishment. This is what is uplifting and energizing: these stories of transformation.