In a world where women's achievements are often overshadowed by modesty, an excerpt from Marie Corbett's "January" confronts this stark reality with striking honesty. As the protagonist grapples with writing an obituary for her accomplished friend Anne, she is struck by the request for a "sparse" tribute — a reflection of Anne's humility but also a glaring symbol of how society conditions women to downplay their successes. Why is it that, even in death, women are hesitant to acknowledge the full spectrum of their accomplishments?
Dive into Corbett's poignant exploration of the hidden burdens of female modesty and the urgent need to reclaim our stories with pride and power.
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An excerpt from "January : A Woman Judge’s Season of Disillusion"
IN MY CHAMBERS, I found that Susan had left a message she'd arrived at the house and was asking me to help with the obituary. When I phoned the house, Anne's lovely voice answered, and for a moment, I thought, Oh, you're not dead after all! Then, in a flash, I realized it was her pre-recorded telephone greeting. I called again, and Susan answered.
"We're drafting the obituary," she said. "The problem is Anne had left instructions for a very sparse obituary."
"That wouldn't be right," I said. "She's being modest." Here we go again. I was all too familiar with women of achievement who were loath to acknowledge their accomplishments. Likewise, I had little patience with the women who say "I'm only a housewife," I'm just a secretary," I had even less when successful women found it so hard to take a bow and say "Yes, I did it." Our achievements weren't because of our mothers, our families, our mentors, or a heavenly god. Why is it so ingrained for women to diminish what we do and who we are? Why would or should a women like Anne request a brief obit? A man takes a piss somewhere, and they put up a plaque. The vulgarity of my thought shocked me: piss is my least favorite word. Yet I recalled the frustration that had earlier given rise to the sentiment.
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