Queen Bee syndrome, women tearing women apart, women “behaving more like a man” once they’ve achieved a certain level of status or power, revealing or concealing sex or gender as deliberate acts of fitting in and getting on, these old tropes abound from the workplace cafeteria to the most senior positions in government. Yet who is it that stands to gain from all the backbiting? Certainly not women.

Kept outside the corridors of power in our most lauded public institutions, entitled to full suffrage only since 1928, predominantly doing the lowest paid, most insecure work and doing the bulk of all unpaid care work, I’d go so far as to suggest that women have hardly made it, while men, for the most part, have it made. Perhaps not just their tea, but their beds, their bank balances in some exceptional cases, and most often their kids raised as well.

Every once and a while, there comes across a small opportunity to be heard, taken seriously, truly supported in every aspect of our lives and it being so rare, sometimes, we don’t even notice what’s being offered. At other times, we find the weight of patriarchal conditioning so heavy that we start to erase ourselves out of the very support or recognition that we deserve. How many times have you found someone offering you help, only for you to say, “no, no, it’s fine, I’ll manage”, then in the next sentence go on to talk about how exhausted you are by the busyness of life.

I’ve often been dismissed or outright rejected when I’ve tried to offer words of support to another woman doing fabulous, interesting or important work. We are neither expected to want that recognition and nor do we know how to accept it graciously, far less pass it on. I’ve sometimes felt embarrassed when giving someone a compliment, worried that as a lesbian woman, I’ll be judged by the blokey standards of wanting something in return (and yes, I do mean “wanting something” as a euphemism). What a waste to avoid saying something heartfelt and true that would lift a sister up, because I’ve worried I’ll come across as too passionate, too intense, too much, or worse, creepy and entitled.

If COVID has taught me anything (after handwashing and the polarities of science), it is that we have lost a sense of deep connection to one another and our planet. And so it is true that pre COVID, there was plenty of room for improvement to support one another as women, it is even more essential now.

Lift a Sister Up series focuses on the cool, the quirky, or the fascinating work of ordinary Highland women. We are an exceptional and talented bunch of women living and working in rural and remote areas, so why not find ways to shout about that? The series aims to highlight some of these women in ways that might inspire and uplift others, or simply give them recognition for their contributions to life in the Highlands. Historical accounts may often reduce us to the caricature of the herring lass, or weaver, of the 1900s, but we were at Culloden too, and our skeletons live on sites of the Clearances. We burned for our talents (see Katherine Stewart’s account of witchcraft in Women of the Highlands, 2006), we worked the land, bore children, and today, we educate the next generation, we operate at Raigmore, consult at the Belford, we clean the public toilets at Garve, and serve customers at Glenfinnan. We make artworks, write books, care for elderly people at home or in homes, we shoe horses, run businesses, herd cattle and much, much more besides.

Yet despite these achievements, we are not overflowing in recognition, often scorned for self-promotion which is ironic in a world intent on living life through socials, and waiting for improvements to be handed down from up above. Since my own mid-life awakening, everywhere I look, I see the less often-told, s()heroic efforts of hundreds of Highland women and I am making it my business to write about, learn from and share their work with my audience. If you are a woman with an interesting project, job, business or hobby and would like to take part, please email lisa@thehighlandfeminist.com. Equally, if you would like to refer a woman doing fabulous things or with an insightful or interesting tale to tell, please tag her in one of these posts, I’d love to hear from her.

You do not need to be a feminist, call yourself a feminist to take part, nor are the views expressed on this blog a reflection of any of the participants in the Lift a Sister Up series. The session will usually last about an hour, then once written up, usually within the fortnight, you get the chance to review it for factual accuracy before it gets published. The whole point of the articles is to work together so that the end piece is a collaborative effort that you are comfortable with and that promotes you or your work.

What are you waiting for? Let’s chat and see if this series is right for you 🙂