portfoI ioI AM BEAUTIFULForget the ways popular culture def<strong>in</strong>es women's beauty.Instead, take note <strong>of</strong> these portraits <strong>of</strong> women-at every age and stage <strong>of</strong> life—and be rem<strong>in</strong>ded where true beauty liesDANAChicago, Ill<strong>in</strong>oisTry as I might, I am not able to say anyth<strong>in</strong>gabout beauty that is more mean<strong>in</strong>gfulto me than the few l<strong>in</strong>es I wrotenearly three decades ago as a twentyyear-oldArmy nurse <strong>in</strong> Vietnam:Like swans on still water they skimover the warAo dais glid<strong>in</strong>g, rustl<strong>in</strong>g serenelygleam<strong>in</strong>g black hair pulled primlyawayfrom faces that reveal noth<strong>in</strong>g save<strong>in</strong>ner repose,a beauty so deep even war can't defile.I note my reflection <strong>in</strong> their obsidian eyesan outsized barbarian, unga<strong>in</strong>ly, unkempt,baggy <strong>in</strong> ever-wilted greens,five-pound boots tak<strong>in</strong>g plowhand strides,face perpetually ruddy, dripp<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> alien heat.In their delicate presence I exhume teen-age failuresthe girl <strong>in</strong> the back row forever unnoticed,the one no one ever <strong>in</strong>vited to dance,the one never voted most-likely anyth<strong>in</strong>g,the one who was never quite someth<strong>in</strong>g enough.But once <strong>in</strong> a while, on a crazy-shift morn<strong>in</strong>g,when I've worked through the night and I'm too tiredto care,a young man who reeks <strong>of</strong> rice paddies lies wait<strong>in</strong>gfor someone to heal the new hole <strong>in</strong> his life.He says through his pa<strong>in</strong>, all adolescent bravado,"Hey, what's your name? Let's get married.I love you."And just for a moment I become Nefertitiand for all the Orient's pearls and silksI would not trade the glamour and privilege<strong>of</strong> these honored hands, licensed to touch one filthy GI.Excerpted with permission from / <strong>Am</strong> <strong>Beautiful</strong>: A <strong>Celebration</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Women</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>Their</strong> <strong>Own</strong> <strong>Words</strong> edited by Dana Carpenter and Woody W<strong>in</strong>free, published by Rose CommunicationsBridgeport, CT (Hardcover, $27.50.) Available from your local women's bookstore or directly from the publisher, (800) 784-5244.O N T H E I S S U E S • S p r i n g 1 9 9 7
MARGUERITE, Cambridge, MassachusettsThe remarkable resemblance between the M<strong>in</strong>oanpriestess's dist<strong>in</strong>ct pr<strong>of</strong>ile and my own strikes medeeply. It is a great, magical affirmation <strong>of</strong> my beauty,strength and connection to our ancient fem<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>eheritage. It makes me th<strong>in</strong>k I must have had pastlives as a priestess <strong>in</strong> which I stood proud, confident,empowered. It affirms the importance <strong>of</strong> myspiritual path <strong>in</strong> this lifetime to assist humanity <strong>in</strong>embrac<strong>in</strong>g and re<strong>in</strong>tegrat<strong>in</strong>g the fem<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>e oncemore. It helps me heal from the sadness I've feltover not measur<strong>in</strong>g up to the image <strong>of</strong> buttonnosed,blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty so prized byour culture. It reassures me that my rich, exoticlooks make me glorious, too.S p r i n g 1 9 9 7 • O N T H E I S S U E S 25