Book review: Gender Equity & Reconciliation 

I was recently humbled to learn about Gender Equity and Reconciliation International (GERI) through their book published by Hohm Press in 2022. Gender Equity & Reconciliation is authored by William Keepin and Cynthia Brix, along with other authors and contributors.  

The book explores and explains the program of Gender Equity and Reconciliation that has been conducted around the world in the last thirty years. The process is aimed at creating a world free of gender oppression and violence, through a creation of what is referred to as a ‘Beloved Community’ of a connected, healed human family.

 The book explains in great detail what a participant of a GERI workshop goes through, and I found it fascinating and enriching to learn about how people share deep truths and traumas, connect with others and change their perspectives about themselves and each other. The process as a whole and in particular the creation of safe spaces for deep sharing, is admirable and exciting. 

Liel reading the book Gender Quite & Reconciliation. Liel is sitting on a grey couch, holding the book in front of their face. Behind them is an Aboriginal print in a black frame.
Reading Gender Equity & Reconciliation [ID: Liel reading the book Gender Quite & Reconciliation. Liel is sitting on a gray couch, holding the book in front of their face. Behind them is an Aboriginal print in a black frame. ]

I am left with several thoughts and feelings after reading this book. The main feelings are curiosity and hope. It is heartwarming and hopeful to know that such a deep process exists where people can get together to heal, witness each others’ truths and work towards creating a future that is free from gender based oppression and violence. 

I am also curious to experience this process, that due to its’ experiential and spiritual nature cannot be truly understood until one experiences it. I’m curious to know how the process feels like, and how someone who is disabled, and gender non-conforming like me may experience the workshops. 

A lot in the philosophy of the work has resonated with me. The focus on forgiveness and the distinction between tackling the patriarchy as opposed to a particular gender were important ones. Forgiveness is seen as something that can set us free, and with my knowledge of psychological wellbeing, I agree. 

“This freedom is twofold–a genuine freedom from the past, and also the freedom to choose and live into our bright and auspicious future.”  

I also connected with the GERI philosophy around the need for all genders to come together in order to bring about the true social change we are seeking. The book skillfully argues that the work of women only or men only, or LGBTIQA+ only groups have been needed, but alone are not sufficient to bring about the beloved community we seek. Thus, in order to bring about a world free of gender-based and other forms of oppression, we all need to work together. 

This book and the premises on which the work is based illuminated issues and connections, which I have not considered before, but rang true and important. One is the lack of spirituality in our modern societies, and its relevance to gender oppression. Another critical issue the book illuminated for me was the connection between gender based violence to state based violence.  

As a person who was born into state violence, oppression and military occupation, I was struck by the following: “The best predictor of a nation’s peacefulness is not: its level of wealth, its degree of democracy, or whether it is rooted in any particular religion. The best predictor of a nation’s peacefulness is its level of violence against women.” This fact highlights how critical the work of gender equity and reconciliation is, not just in healing individuals, communities and countries, but in healing our entire ‘human family’.

A challenging part of reading the book for me was the occasional avoidance of politics within the Gender Equity and Reconciliation process. The authors explain that the process aims to go alongside politics, rather than replacing it. Violations of human rights however, are always intermingled with politics. 

At times I felt the avoidance of politics was getting in the way of the work. For instance, a chapter about gender injustice ended with an article about #MeToo written by a man, who focussed on a woman offering herself sexually to him in an inappropriate setting. Although undoubtedly unintended, this left me feeling unseen, as a female who experienced many sexual harassments and even violence. 

Another example was that rights violations relating to abortion were rarely mentioned when discussing gender and sex based exploitation and violence. In both these instances, I felt that the avoidance of politics created a hole in the story, and therefore the needed conversations and solutions. In order to make sure that true gender reconciliation can happen, we need inclusive policies that protect everyone. The spirit of the work was certainly inclusive and I’m hopeful that issues relating to abortion rights violation and centering marginalised voices can continue to grow.

The book itself was rather long and I imagine most readers would struggle to finish it, although would probably benefit from learning about the process. It should also be noted that the content of the book at times can be challenging or triggering to read, as it covers traumatic experiences of gender based traumas including rape, sexual assault and violence. I think the telling of these stories is incredibly important, and ideally should be prefaced by a content note to help readers stay safe. I would definitely recommend a shortened version of the work, and would be delighted to attend a GERI workshop one day if I had the opportunity. 

The biggest question left with me after reading Gender Equity and Reconciliation is whether disability has been considered in depth in the workshops’ design. Intersectionality has been considered from the perspectives of culture, race, religion, and LGBTIQA+. I would love to know more about if and how the intersections between gender, disability and other forms of oppression have been explored, and how the GERI model can be applied to disability rights. 

Near the end of the book, the aim of this work is again articulated: “The larger purpose of Gender Equity and Reconciliation is not only to forgive and reconcile the past–but also to transcend the past and rewrite the gender future of humanity.” 

the book Gender Equity & Reconciliation leaning against in indoor plant. The book has a blue and white cover with deep red, dark blue and white text. The text reads: Gender Equity & Reconciliation
Thirty Years of Healing the Most Ancient Wound in the Human Family
WILLIAM KEEPIN AND CYNTHIA BRIX
WITH: KARAMBU RINGERA GARRETT EVANS DESIREE ENGLISH
WILLIAM DIPLOCK ESTHER DIPLOCK LUCILLE MEYER-SILVIA ARAYA MYRA KINDS JORGE RICO SAMANTHA VAN SCHALKWYK ANSAR ANWAR LAURIE GAUM HARIN JEONG JABU MASHININI TRISTAN JOHANNES MICHELE BREENE JULIEN DEVEREUX
FOREWORD BY MPHO TUTU VAN FURTH]

I join the authors in this hope: that one day we will rewrite the future of humanity, and that this will be done together, with disabled and multiply marginalised people at the heart rather than the margins of society. 

Thank you to Book Publicity Services for sending me a copy. 

Liel K. Bridgford

A Sensitive Topic

*Spoiler alert for Sensitive – by Allayne L. Webster*

I’ve just finished reading Sensitive and I can’t stop thinking about it. This is my first book review on the blog. Although I read constantly, not often it feels needed to share my experience of reading something with the whole world. Sensitive made me want to. 

Sensitive is the book I wish I’d had growing up. Growing up I didn’t know any other disabled children – not, even, one. Even though I spent many days in a hospital, surrounded by other kids who were probably going through similar struggles to myself. Like any other kid in the world, I craved a connection with others who get it.

Sensitive is the first YA book I’ve ever read with a disabled protagonist. Actually, Sensitive is the first fiction book I’ve read with a disabled protagonist. It has exceeded my expectations of reading a book by and about a disabled person.

SJ is portrayed in such a warm and human way that she feels real – a literary achievement in and of itself. On top of her humanity, and perhaps making it more so, she struggles with external and internalised ableism throughout her journey. She faces the medical model of disability so strongly in her family and treating doctors that she learns to believe it – the notion that she should be fixed. Perhaps without even realising it, she faces ableist language from her closest people – her mother especially but also the doctors. At her lowest, she feels her life isn’t worth living and struggles to accept her body, herself, and the notion that she has this particular body. ‘Why me’ questions come up often. Being involved in the disability community, I know many people who’ve experienced such ableism and angst.

SJ’s relationships also reflect such common experiences. Her grandmother is a lovely voice of reason and anti-ableism that any disabled child deserves to hear. Her parents’ struggles with her disease is portrayed so realistically, and as a disabled person it got me angry and sad. SJ’s responses fantastically dance between disconnect, disempowerment, despair, hope, questioning, reflection, isolation, and reaching out. Although SJ liked the boy who initially seemed like a bully, his image did expand and improve. I wanted to tell SJ he is a jerk, but in some way her liking increased her humanity. 

SJ’s journey with internalised ableism doesn’t fully resolve, and that is perfection. This portrayal reflects many of our ever-changing relationships with our disabilities and bodies. Nicely, other characters provide hope that SJ could eventually come to love herself. She receives wonderful role modelling by Billie and Livvy – both friends who see her for the person she is. 

Sensitive brings to light the internal struggle any person living with a disability may experience at some point in their life. The medical approach and the family’s buying into the medical desire to fix SJ, illuminate our society’s failure to accept and understand disabled people. The interaction between the medical model of disability and internalised ableism is beautifully hinted about. 

Sensitive can be a powerful tool for able-bodied people to increase understanding and step into the shoes of disabled people. For health professionals, this could help understand the immense consequences of failure to see the person behind the condition. Most importantly, for any disabled person who has struggled with feelings of exclusion, bullying, or self-hatred – this book is guaranteed to normalise your experience and make you feel less alone. 

Finally, the author has mentioned reading a story about disability she related to in her youth. Thank you Allayne Webster for writing this book, and for making me feel seen and included.

Until next time,

L. K. Bridgford