FLORENCE HOWE

activist, writer, and founder of the Feminist Press




Florence in Words

End-of-Year Letter for 2016

December 19, 2016

Tags: health, election, Feminist Press, family, Yoya, Florence (granddaughter)

For at least two decades I have been writing an end-of-year letter and sending it out via e-mail to friends around the world, including especially the African friends who worked on our four huge Feminist Press anthologies, Women Writing Africa. I am also going to post the letter this year on my website (www.florencehowe.com).

Let me say, first, that I had hoped this letter would celebrate Hillary Clinton’s victory as feminist, humanist, and an experienced internationalist. Some of you who will read this were present in the Chinese auditorium two decades ago, as I was, when Hillary spoke that famous sentence: “Women’s rights are human rights; and human rights are women’s rights.” So our work will have to continue, and I am certain that Hillary will be on the front lines of that work.

My personal news is mixed. I continue to miss my active life of walking and swimming, not to mention travelling. Despite a dozen doctors I have seen, there is no real diagnosis, but only placebos, some of which have back-fired and been therefore abandoned. Right now I am counting on rehab and a clever, hands-on therapist to strengthen my right leg so that I might be able to walk with only a cane again. But I want distant friends to know that I remain in my own apartment, and I have made various adjustments so that I can be independent.

I write a journal every day which goes into a folder. And once a week or at least three times a month I write a blog which is posted on my website that I continue to maintain, with the help of Jen Petras, my dear Ohio friend. Writing keeps me sane, I think, and it is, as for many people, one way to work out their depression. I’ve also been writing poems, some of which I may decide to post on the blog as well.

What else do I do (aside from seeing doctors)? I go to the opera and to theatre, usually with Helene Goldfarb, occasionally also with friends Shirley Mow, Elyse Hilton, Don Thomas, Jorge Cao. Elyse also visits to talk literature and to help me walk when the weather permits. AnnJ looks after my needs in certain magical ways, and she visits frequently, given that she lives in Washington, D.C.

The most striking family news is that granddaughter Dr. Florence Wright, named after me, moved to Los Angeles almost a year ago and was married last week to Jason Neville, a Louisiana-bred city planner who works for the mayor. Other family members continue to thrive in Kansas, Mississippi, D.C., and even Brooklyn, though except for AnnJ, I see them rarely.

What do I do aside from entertainment? I sit on four Boards, though I am not as active as I used to be. I still long for real work, though I am also a realist about its disappearance from my life. Occasionally, I have proofread or copyedited for the Feminist Press. I am very proud of the fact that six books published by the Press have had favorable reviews in the New York Times this year.

Finally, perhaps you are wondering how I manage being alone at 87. What do I do that gives me pleasure? Sometimes great pleasure? It’s reading and writing, of course. A good movie sometimes—I saw Rainman last night here in my study. A good play—Heidigger, which I’ve seen twice, was excellent, as was Master Harold and the Boys. As for books, the list would be too long for this letter. I continue to be a fan of Kazuo Ishiguro, have read all his books.

And yes, there is the writing. Why don’t I get on with it? Why do I write only journals and blogs? It’s like asking the question about the election: why were so many people taken in by a fast-talking, know-nothing egomaniac (and these are kind words for the man)? There are many answers to these questions, mostly not heroic but mundane. The best I can do today is to say what my favorite diva sings, “I’m still here.”

Finally, I want to dedicate this blog to the little dog who kept me company when Don and Jorge travelled. Yoya died at ten of heart disease. The happiest, sweetest bundle of fur just keeled over upstairs, after a walk. She has been replaced—yes, it’s possible with pooches—by Fefa, hardly six months old. I know you will like the photos of Yoya.

A Brief Weekend with Yoya

August 4, 2015

Tags: Yoya

Yoya
Perhaps I’ve never written about her, but that’s hard to believe. Still, I want to write about her now: how she brightened my weekend, though I had her only for two nights and two days and a morning. She is a Maltese named Yoya, who belongs to Don and Jorge, the two men I regard as among my closest friends, at whose wedding four years ago I was pleased to serve as witness. (Yes, it was on the very first day possible in New York.) Yoya knows me and my apartment as well as she knows them, since whenever they leave town, she’s left with me.

Outside of my apartment I use a cane, at least in part so that people made a wide circle around me. Even with Yoya, who has to be walked three times a day, I manage with the cane. And she manages, though she’s as averse to canes as I am. And so the cane resides in my right hand, while Yoya maintains her position to my left, or, if she must—for reason of grates or other conditions she objects to—she moves to the right, but well in advance of the cane. And so, until yesterday, we both managed to walk three times each day, usually two short walks and one long one with an errand or a purpose in mind.

To get to the bank to deposit checks, we walked through a parklike, shady block that was also interesting to a creature whose life is mainly lived through her nose. I could note (or at least sense) her ecstasy at certain revered spots outside of planted areas, and her stops were restful for me. She is also a delightful companion when I want to sit down for a few minutes, for she also sits down to observe the passing world, always on the lookout for other dogs.

She’s the kind of dog whose occupation is to guard me, which means she has to move when I move from one room to another. Even if she is fast asleep, my movement wakes her up and she moves uncomplainingly to find another spot near wherever I’ve located. And if someone out in the hall is coming or going, she offers me her protection in the form of a non-bark that can be described perhaps as “uh, eh, eh, uh.” The sound comes out a little like a rattle. No barking unless the person is headed to our apartment.

Yoya laying nearbyYoya on the couch
Yoya laying nearbyYoya on the couch


But of course she knows the sound of the man’s name who comes to fetch her. If the phone rings to announce him, all I have to say is “Don is coming,” and she’s at the door waiting. And yes, he gets the ecstatic welcome I get when I’ve left her even for an hour, all the wiggling and all the murmurs. And yes, I write this just one day later, missing her.

The Power of Kennedy

October 7, 2011

Tags: family, Alice, Jack, Maban, Kennedy, visiting, Yoya

I’ve admitted to occasional bouts of depression, assuaged usually by a new mind-moving project, and on occasion by dog-sitting Yoya, a delightful Maltese, whose antics are irrepressibly comic, and whose cuddling warms my heart. Last week, I discovered another possibility—house guests who included a two-year old. Four visitors arrived for a week: daughter Alice, grandson Jack and his wife Maban, and their daughter Kennedy who is several months past two. Kennedy was not a nay-saying two-year-old. Her approach was “let me do it”—from feeding herself to feeding others. Fearless, she fed the largest animals in Central Park’s petting zoo, one food-pebble at a time. And fearless also, she fed Yoya small bits of cheese, and thus won her attention as well as her heart. (more…)

Dogsitting Yoya

November 25, 2010

Tags: Don and Jorge, Yoya, visiting

It’s Thanksgiving morning, Thursday, November 25, 2010, and I’m smiling because I have a visitor who is consistently amusing—and demanding. She’s a small five-year old Maltese named Yoya, who belongs to Don Thomas and Jorge Cao, and who comes to live with me whenever they travel. So she’s here for a long weekend, and I am smiling, and occasionally even laughing at her antics. (more…)

Select Works

"Everyone concerned about global feminism, women’s contributions, and humanity’s future will be enhanced and enchanted by A Life in Motion.”—Blanche Wiesen Cook, author of Eleanor Roosevelt: Volume I and Volume II
Lecture delivered by Florence Howe on January 8, 2011, at the Modern Language Association Annual Convention
“It is impossible to imagine women’s studies without Florence Howe. Myths of Coeducation shows her vision and courage, insight and dauntlessness.”–Catharine R. Stimpson, Rutgers University
A revised and expanded edition of the classic groundbreaking anthology of 20th-century American women's poetry, representing more than 100 poets from Amy Lowell to Anne Sexton to Rita Dove.

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