Last year I read an illuminating book Brit(ish) by Afua Hirsh in which she shared her view on observing Black History Month each October. At school and in the media we profile Black heroes once a year and discuss their lives and experiences. How about we incorporated Black history into British or American history and changed the narrative from the celebration of the British imperial achievements to a more balanced account, including experiences of the natives of former colonies? Perhaps we would learn how that less than straightforward history shaped our society. Instead of condemning advocates of why statues must fall, we might wonder whose names adorn our art institutions, such as Tate.

Tate museums, in case you didn't know, are named after the philanthropist Henry Tate, who made his money via Tate & Lyle, a British sugar refining business, which relied on slave labour (and continued exploitation of Afro-Caribbeans after the slavery had been abolished). I am grateful to Sir Henry for his generosity, but equally I feel it's good to know where the money came from. 

And now, in case I haven't learned the lesson from Black History Month, I get to have first hand experience. March 2021 is now Women's History Month, says the US government. Come to think of it, it's a bit of an upgrade since according to this website, the origins of this "celebration" date back to 1981 when Congress authorised women's history to be celebrated for the whole week before progressing it to a month. We should be joyful!

As a result, I got a handful of emails last week about panels celebrating women's achievements and caught glimpse of media headlines putting spotlight on heroines in all walks of life. Without realising it, I even joined he movement by celebrating 8 March, International Women's Day, with a series of Instagram posts about women who had especially inspired me in the last 12 months. 

But you know what? It was a little hard going with everything that has been on top of the media agenda otherwise. The women making headlines were Nicola Sturgeon, Meghan Markle and now Sarah Everard - all the for the wrong reasons. Commemorating women's history one month a year and patting yourself on the back will not improve visibility of women's achievements or the inequality in our society. Women - half of the world's population - cannot be forgotten for most of the year. Their agenda must be everyone's agenda, otherwise, as Caroline Criado-Perez has described so well in her book, Invisible Women, we'll keep getting smartphones too big for an average woman's hand, drugs which have not been properly tested on women and cars which have not been crash-tested with female body dummies. 

I'm sure Women's History Month and all the associated initiatives have been well intentioned. We'll just have to hope that a dose of empowerment will carry us through the rest of the year.

I'll finish on a lighter note:

- How many feminists does it take to change a lightbulb?- None. It’s not the lightbulb that needs changing.

I recently read The Consolations of Philosophy by Alain de Botton and caught myself reflecting on the author's observations of how quickly people tend to judge what's and who's "normal". Such judgements may be innocuous (e.g. "A woman doing weight training is not natural - why not try dancing, dear?") but sometimes societal prejudices lead to devastating consequences. 

Alain de Botton wrote about Michel de Montaigne, a XVI century philosopher from Gascogne, who had first pointed out that a society's definition of normality was constrained by its own experience, customs and practices.

In 1580 Montaigne went on a 3,000 mile journey on horseback travelling from his home in south-western France to Rome via Germany, Austria and Switzerland. It was his first trip outside France, and he observed local customs in every place he and his companions visited. He also observed that his companions were getting upset by the differences they encountered whilst on the road: they complained about unfamiliar food, uncomfortable beds, incomprehensible language foreigners spoke. "Wherever they go they cling to their ways and curse foreign ones" - wrote Montaigne later. 

Back in France, Montaigne became interested in the chronicles of the exploration of South America. He was fascinated to read about American tribes in which virgins openly displayed their private parts, men were allowed to marry each other and spiders were considered a delicacy. He was saddened to hear that Portuguese and Spanish conquistadores had decided the native Americans were barbarians, wild beasts to be enslaved or murdered. In just 50 years the colonists have reportedly reduced the indigenous population of South America from 80 million to 10 million. "Each nation has many customs and practices which are not only unknown to another nation but barbarous and a cause of wonder", wrote Montaigne. The native Americans died because their customs did not match the European standards of "normality" of the XVI century. 

As I was reading de Botton's musings, I thought about the currently well publicised open homophobia in Russia. It is sad to see that some people are so stuck in their narrow-mindedness of what's "normal" that they feel justified in their groundless aggression towards homosexuals. 

I toyed with some extreme examples here but I merely wanted to open your mind a little wider.

P.S. Next time you go to France, have a frog.