Happy Mother’s Day! It’s been a minute since the last post (a series of trips across and out of the country temporarily disrupted the posting schedule) but I wanted to be sure to check in today to wish all the GCP mom’s, grandmoms, godmoms and aunties a very happy day.  Moms and Surrogate Moms, please be sure to take some time today to celebrate yourselves for all that you do!  (If you are being pampered by your family, enjoy it; if not, please pamper yourself.)

Here are a couple of poems which are perfect to share on this day. (Just for today, it’s Thoughtful Sunday!) The first, “Oughta Be A Woman” from  June Jordan (1936-2002), pays tribute to all of the hard working mothers who give their all and then some for their families. This poem was set to music by the amazing acapella  group Sweet Honey in the Rock, and you can hear their rendition here.    “The Courage That My Mother Had” by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950) speaks for those of us whose beloved moms have passed on, and expresses our wish to have more of them here with us still.

Happy Mother’s Day to GCP moms everywhere!  Enjoy.


Oughta Be A Woman

Washing the floors to send you to college
Staying at home so you can feel safe
What do you think is the soul of her knowledge
What do you think that makes her feel safe

Biting her lips and lowering her eyes
To make sure there’s food on the table
What do you think would be her surprise
If the world was as willing as she’s able

Hugging herself in an old kitchen chair
She listens to your hurt and your rage
What do you think she knows of despair
What is the aching of age

The fathers, the children, the brothers
Turn to her and everybody white turns to her
What about her turning around
Alone in the everyday light

There oughta be a woman can break
Down, sit down, break down, sit down
Like everybody else call it quits on Mondays
Blues on Tuesdays, sleep until Sunday
Down, sit down, break down, sit down

A way outa no way is flesh outa flesh
Courage that cries out at night
A way outa no way is flesh outa flesh
Bravery kept outa sight
A way outa no way is too much to ask
Too much of a task for any one woman

June Jordan


The Courage That My Mother Had

The courage that my mother had
Went with her, and is with her still:
Rock from New England quarried;
Now granite in a granite hill.

The golden brooch my mother wore
She left behind for me to wear;
I have no thing I treasure more:
Yet, it is something I could spare.

Oh, if instead she’d left to me
The thing she took into the grave!—
That courage like a rock, which she
Has no more need of, and I have.

Edna St. Vincent Millay