Skip the flowers

It’s not unlikely that many of my Estonian friends today were buying flowers or receiving them, congratulating the women in their lives. Intrinsically a sweet act, it may be somewhat of a veil trivialising a far greater and more poignant message. Women’s day is an ideal display of admirable intentions tainted through time, growing to nearly oppose what it once stood for. In some cultures, at least.

While the day’s history is varied, Russia played an integral part in securing March 8^th as International Women’s Day, marking the strikes of textile workers at the beginning of the February Revolution. Kicking off the Russian Revolution and granting women the power to vote, the day was declared as an official holiday, and in 1965, a non-working day, “in commemoration of the outstanding merits of Soviet women in communistic construction, in the defense of their Fatherland during the Great Patriotic War, in their heroism and selflessness at the front and in the rear, and also marking the great contribution of women to strengthening friendship between peoples, and the struggle for peace”. Bulky as the quote appears, communistic egalitarianism and messages of empowerment shine through, perhaps after ignoring the (to-be-expected) tones of militant action. In 1975, the UN adopted the holiday and it has been receiving increased coverage in the West ever since. This much for history.

Today, Russia is one of the countries celebrating the day most vehemently: flowers, gifts adorn the desks of women around the country, but what for? The message has shifted to one of celebrating femininity, beauty, womanhood. Again, it’s not to say these are negative qualities, but it’s ignorant to gloss over other connotations. Of conventional beauty standards, of “fragile” and “gentle” femininity, of motherhood as crucial to womanhood. A celebration of women, yet still gently nudging the population into a mould, and celebrating those that happen to fit into it happily. Through time, the voices of protesting workers have dimmed, their mouths stuffed with the fruits of capitalism, frilled dresses donned on their bodies and their struggles forgotten.

Estonia seems, too often, to tumble into the same dark pit. The traditions of communist times remain, and the day has a taste far different from what it means in other parts of Europe. In the Netherlands, I have yet to spot flowers being gifted, and no one is going around wishing the women in the lecture hall a happy women’s day. Yet messages of prominent women in engineering and science echo through my media streams, highlighting something I find a crucial difference between the treatment of this day.

The goal of international women’s day is not to celebrate those that fit in the archetype for their gender. In fact, the goal isn’t to celebrate any woman for being one. The day remembers the tribulations faced by half the population, oppressed for millennia and still gaining equity. It celebrates those that dare to argue their case against societal expectations and discrimination, and serves as a reminder of both past progress and challenges we still face as a dynamic and diverse population.

This isn’t to say only revolutionary historic women are pertinent today: all too many women still have a story (or many) of unequal treatment, harassment or societal pressure. This is a day to recognise, acknowledge, and speak up: only this will mould our world into one less constrained.

And if you’re standing by a woman you care about with a flower, perhaps congratulate her on her recent professional success, or stand by her side at the next women’s march. There is much more to recognise and applaud than happening to be of a certain gender.