Table of Contents
Guide
BRAVE
BIRDS
Inspiration on the Wing
Maude White
abrams image, new york
TABLE OF CONTENTS
BIRDS IVE BEEN
I have loved many birds in my life.
Loved the abstract notion and existence of birds
as much as the physical, tangible birds themselves. Often, the sight or sound of a bird
has given me both bravery and hope.
My love for birds has not always been particular. There are birds I have loved
without knowing their names and birds I have loved for the beauty of their song alone.
Sometimes, all I have needed from a bird has been the flicker of its body, the connection
through sight with a creature unbounded by the physical earth. I have always felt that
looking upward instills hope in those of us tethered to the ground.
At other times, I have gained strength and encouragement from a specific bird,
finding it out in the world, in literature, and ultimately in my own body, as I recognized
those same instincts and skills that I so loved and admired within the bird.
I am a language person, a word person. Words hold power, both alone and
together. In its simplest definition, a bird is an egg-laying, feathered vertebrate. But as
happens so often with language over time,
bird
has also come to refer to both a human
female and a human of either sex possessing peculiar or interesting characteristics.
The usage of the word
bird
to refer to a woman dates from the beginning of
the twentieth century. Independent of that most recent appropriation, there is an older,
Middle English word
burde
that originated in the 1300s to refer to a young female.
That this old, forgotten word has been resurrected in usage and meaning in our present
world both fascinates and moves me.
Unfortunately, this current habit of referring to a woman as a bird grants little
respect to the woman in question. The term implies overfamiliarity and dismissiveness.
This surprises me. After all, birds possess beauty, strength, intelligence, and a wild and
powerful will to survive. They connect us to the sky and the water, realms that we, as
humans, cannot ourselves easily traverse. Birds evolved from dinosaurs! How can one
not feel awe and respect?
As with the word
bird
, I am strongly drawn to the word
brave
. By definition,
bravery is generally defined as having or showing courage.
I believe the word
bravery
should be used more often. In todays language, the
word seems to refer to the absence of fear or to physical or dramatic acts of heroism,
making
bravery
, as a concept and a personal experience, impossible for many of us to
ever truly embrace or believe we have achieved. But I believe that myriad small, everyday
acts require bravery and strength and should be honored, celebrated, and appreciated.
The
Brave Birds
idea grew from my wish to claim and reclaim our current cul-
tural definitions of both
bird
and
bravery
. My love for birds knows no constraint. It is a
welcoming, hungry passion that requires neither understanding nor complicity from the
birds themselves. My identification with birds and my reference to us all as brave birds
arises from the hope that we human birds might someday be able to apply to ourselves
the same selfless admiration and love that we feel for literal birds out in the wild and in
the abstract. I want us, as human birds, to be able to feel passion and understanding for
ourselves. I want us to love and experience the simple wonder of
our
existence, just as
we love without judgment the existence of the physical birds we see and hear out in the
world each day. In this way, I believe that we are all brave birds.
Early in 2014, I was attacked. As I healed and recovered, I began drawing and
cutting a great blue heron. During that time I was afraid to leave my home. I was afraid
of the darkness. I was afraid of my own memory and my lack of memory.
As I carefully drew and then cut each feather on the great blue heron, as I
studied and moved around my giant bird creation, I began to feel as if the heron I was
creating was simultaneously becoming a part of my body, investing me with those qual-
ities I admired and loved so much. To this day, I cannot see a great blue heron without
feeling a surge of love and gratefulness. During my recovery, that heron was my friend,
my doctor, and I held his essence in my body as I healed. He was my bird, my concept
of safety and strength.
Five months later I was mugged. The mugging occurred in the daytime, and
soon I found myself falling not only back into my fear of the darkness, but experiencing
new fears of the daylight world as well.
BRAVE BIRDS
Again, I turned my knife to cutting a bird. This time, I began work on a girl
and a crow. In the piece the crow was emerging from the womans face. I wanted this
crow to symbolize the dark and vengeful bird that I wished could come forth to confront
any mugger approaching any seemingly defenseless woman. I wanted this wild, ruthless,
and savage bird to inhabit my shrinking, hesitant body. I wanted this bird to help me
do what I had been unable to: defend myself. The crow was my symbol, my protective
confidante. The crow gave me the strength and the courage to leave my home again.
P R E F A C E
I have been many birds in my life. I have been a hummingbird, flying backward
into the past. I have been a barn swallow, quick and sure in decision and strength. I have