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

How a Book Can Change Everything

Last night my yellow hand-made bookmark lost its place inside Growing Up Disabled In Australia (GUDIA). I spent a good ten minutes trying to remember where I stopped the previous night, before realising – I finished it already. That was disappointing. GUDIA is a book I never wanted to end. It kept drawing me back in, for more. And when I finished, I wanted to go back to the start and read it again. With so many poignant components, it became the fastest anthology I’ve ever read.

I loved so many pieces in the book, and strongly related to the majority of them. That rarely happens when you’re a disabled person. Well, maybe now it’s going to happen more. 

It was important to me to write about this, because the gravity of publishing this book cannot be underestimated. For many people, this would be the first time they see themselves represented in Australian literature. For many disabled people, there’ll be moments of first – first time someone accurately expressed their feelings, experiences or thoughts. First time someone found an accurate metaphor for living in a body that others see as broken. First time someone shone beautiful and colourful lights on their bodies, souls, sorrows and joys. 

Admidtingly, I’ve previously read other anthologies by disabled people, published overseas. Even so, I found GUDIA to be unique and broad in terms of topics covered, as well as types of disabilities. I’ve learnt new things, laughed, teared up and folded far too many marks – I wanted to highlight and return to most pieces. No doubt I will be reading most of the stories and poems again. I found parts of my story in many pages of the book, and felt so deeply seen by various authors’ expressions of struggling with ableism in its many forms. I enjoyed the caricature story and the poems, which nicely broke the sequence of the essays. The diversity within the experiences, writing styles and emphases was excellent, and I particularly appreciated the cultural diversity within the texts. The various ways in which ableism is exposed and challenged are so fundamental – to understanding ourselves as disabled people and for people living alongside us to learn what it’s like. 

Some particular lines, metaphors and ideas are still in the back of my mind. I won’t name favourite pieces because there were too many, but my favourite themes were fighting internalised ableism, detailed and relatable descriptions of medical ableism in the system and in families, and disability pride and joy in various forms including speaking up, connecting with the disability community, sewing parachutes and dressing for a disabled life – a well lived life. 

The only thing I would have liked to see in the anthology were content notes or warnings. I’ve seen those in one previous disability-focused anthology and felt they were helpful. There are essays that mention for instance self-harm, medical ableism, bullying etc – so a little specific info like that could have been useful. 

If it’s not clear by now, I highly recommend everyone read this book. But in particular, if you work in the disability field, health, or the education system, and/or if you have a child with a disability – you must read this book. 

A book like GUDIA, where disabled people’s experiences are the centre, can and will change everything. It may finally make someone’s penny drop about giving their child choices in their treatment. It may generate empathy where there is none to invisible pain and trauma. It may probe a health professional or a friend to ask about how someone is experiencing their disability, rather than assuming. It may teach a parent or a teacher to explore disability with their able-bodied little humans, and provide language for disabled people to ask for help or explain how they’re feeling. It may plant a seed of hope in the heart of many who feel alone, and shine a light down a path where their experiences are validated and others are confident to reach out a hand.

This is how a book can change everything.

Until next time, 

Liel K. Bridgford 

P.S. this book has been edited by Carly Findlay and published by Black Inc. Books.