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In 1976, I went to the Michigan Women's Music Festival, along with 6,000 other womyn. What I experienced there changed my life. The first thing I remember is seeing womyn playing Frisbee with no shirts on. "You can't do that...!" I thought, but in mid-sentence I stopped and revised it to, "Oh, yes, you can!" I had found a place where womyn made the rules and we were working to create a space that reflected our values and needs and wants. I didn't want to leave the festival--I wanted my whole life to be what I had experienced in those four too-short days.
I was not alone in that wish. In the past twenty five years, many womyn's festivals have been born, each unique, reflecting the dreams of the womyn who create it. And womyn have been buying land, re-creating spaces for themselves and other womyn to live more sanely, extending the festival experience into their daily lives.
HOWL, womyn's land in northwestern Vermont, is 50 acres of land held in trust for all womyn. Nestled in the foothills of Camel's Hump, edged by national forest, at the end of a gently climbing dirt road, HOWL is the heartchild of a group of visionary womyn in the Burlington area. It is a refuge, a peaceful nature retreat for womyn and children who live in towns and cities, a place for gatherings, potlucks, celebrations, work and playshops. And it is a place to live. In the spring of 1995, I moved to HOWL as a Caregiver. I made a three month commitment to be a caretaker of the land and buildings, and to be a fund-raiser, and to welcome all womyn who came to visit. The rightness of my being there was made clear the first morning at the breakfast table when Glo said to me, "You know, if you see anything that you want to change, you have as much right to do that as anybody else." As caregiver, I was considered an equal. I decided I had lived and gone to heaven!
Many womyn have accepted the weighty responsibility for making sure that HOWL continues to thrive and each has a unique perspective of her task. For me, everyday was a new adventure. During the spring and summer that I was there, we averaged 12-15 womyn per night staying on the land. There were small groups who stayed for months; there were traveling womyn who camped overnight or for a week. There were womyn and children in the garden, in the pond, building a sauna, celebrating cronings and coming of age rituals. We had meetings and potlucks and workshops. Lone womyn came for an afternoon to take a nap, carrying their blanket up the hill, disappearing over the ridge. All came to get a quick fix of womonspace, so rare, juicy and nourishing. Projects happened organically, with anyone joining in who cared to, doing whichever piece she felt comfortable with. There was music and laughter and talk, lots of talk. We fed our bodies and our spirits.
HOWL is a place where womyn have the opportunity to create community: the kind of community we all dream of sharing some day. There are very few places in the world like HOWL. She is continually changing and evolving, depending on which womyn are currently taking responsibility for making sure she stays vital and alive. She is a precious resource. As long as HOWL exists, no womon need ever be homeless. And every womon has a place where it is possible for her to be a part of building a dream.
Odysea is currently living, working, and trying to figure out what life is
about in w. Lebanon, NH.
