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By Susan Aycock

I celebrated Mothers’ Day twice this year: both on the holiday as celebrated last Thursday in Mexico and again on Sunday in the U.S. (In Mexico, they keep a fixed date of May 10, whereas in the states we change the date around to keep it as the second Sunday in May).

 Though I’m usually out in Teotitlán del Valley every Thursday anyway teaching English classes as part of En Vía’s loan enrichment program, we had cancelled class for the fiesta. Not only would most of our students and their families be attending the Mothers’ Day celebration in Teotitlán, but the entire municipal building where we hold classes, as well as the town plaza just outside, would be occupied with the fiesta. Honestly, there’s always a fiesta going on in town. Or a parade. Or both.

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 “What’s the name of your dance,” I asked her? “The caballito dance!” she squealed. Kidding, I asked her if she was a caballita (little horse). “No, silly!” she said. “The boys are the caballitos!” And not wanting her to be late – for hers was the first dance of the event – we piled into a moto-taxi and headed to the town square.

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 At least half the town’s 6,000 or so residents turned out for the day’s festivities. The older gentlemen wear slacks and straw hats, the women traditional plaid skirts (actually just pieces of cloth tied with a sash), floral blouses, braids and rebozos, or shawls, on their shoulders or heads.

Being at least six inches and sometimes a whole foot taller than most of the indigenous women (and I’m only 5’6”, not exactly a giant in the states), I guess I stood out in the crowd in my turquoise visor. At least a dozen women, former and current students in the English classes and weavers I know from town, shouted out greetings to me as we waited for the fiesta to begin. I can manage “hello” in Zapotec, but not much more; it’s a tonal language, all soft sounds pitched inflections. (But of course, they all speak Spanish too (which means our English classes introduce a third language).

The traditional nieve served on Mothers’ Day – prepared in the municipal building where we normally hold English classes – was brought out on trays and passed around to all free of charge. Nieve is a frozen treat more like sorbet than ice cream, and these were festively red and white: white leche quemada ice cream (literally “burned milk,” like a vanilla custard) with a topping of rosy pink tuna (which has nothing to do at all with tuna fish, but is made of the red fruit of the prickly pear cactus).

I ate the piece of sweet corn cake, given to me at the fiesta by one of my students, on the bus back to Oaxaca City (about an hour away), and got soaking wet walking back home from the bus stop in the rain. Nothing, though, could dampen the wonderful feeling of belonging here, with my own children so far away on Mothers’ Day.

And yeah, the kids (who turn 26 and 28 this week). Bryan, the younger one, called me on Sunday morning to wish me happy American Mothers’ Day. He was sitting with his girlfriend at the feet of the Grand Tetons outside of Jackson Hole, Wyoming, where he lives. My older son, David, Skyped me that night from Katmandu, Nepal, just having trekked back from Everest Base Camp One, halfway through his trip around the world this year.

The great majority of the women that En Via works with are mothers. Today we wish to recognise the ways in which as mothers and businesswomen, women are working hard to provide for their children and families.

Ameli and her son Axel, in Diaz Ordaz.

 One of the primary reasons that En Via lends money to women is that statistically, women have shown to invest in ways that directly benefit their families and communities. We see this time and time again as we hear that profits from businesses are used to support children through school, or to provide them with healthcare, or other essential aspects of their development.

 We know that each individual loan is making an impact on the lives of many people because we know that the women we work with are sharing not only the financial profits of their projects and businesses with their families, but also the knowledge and self-esteem that comes from their participation in the program as a whole.  

Amelia and her daughter and expected baby boy, in Teotitlan.

Recently we had the pleasure of visiting with one of our borrowers, Enedina Gonzalez Alvarez, with a tour group. Enedina is a weaver, and like many of our borrowers, she invests her loans in a family business that produces tapetes, or wool rugs. Her husband and children introduce themselves to us as we arrive, and it is clear to everyone that the family is a very close unit.

 Oscar, Enedina's 17 year old son, hurries over with something to show the group; a great big bag of seed pods that will be used for naturally dying the wool the family will use for weaving. His face is glowing with pride as he stands by his mother as she explains the process to us.

Later I ask him what he thinks about the En Via program. Regarding the tours, he said he loves to have the chance to meet new people and interact with visitors. “The loans help our family and other families we know a lot”, he says seriously.

Enedina and her sons Oscar and Romero in Teotitlan.

 I often wonder about the type of role models that are being encouraged and created, and am delighted to hear Oscar say that he is learning from his mother and family about how the money is best managed.

 Enedina tells me how one of her favourite parts of the work is the way she works everyday with her family. They have 4 looms that are arranged side by side in the patio.

Oscar says that they exchange ideas, and even sing together sometimes as they weave. “I enjoy the time when we are together.  When I am by myself working I feel lonely”, he says. 

Romero, Enedina's younger son of 14 years, is also interested in the visit from En Via. “I think it is a good program that is helping the community”, he says. “I am proud of my mother, and I am grateful for what she teaches me”.

 There are mothers of all ages and backgrounds in our program. Many have told me personally that the most important thing in their lives is being a mother. We have the privilege of knowing many of their children and of seeing them grow and develop over the years we have been working in the communities. All of us at En Via wish to congratulate all the mothers of the program for their hard work, and for the ways in which they continue to support their families as well as their communities as a whole. To all mothers everywhere, Happy Mother's Day! 

Rosa, a single mother, stands with her daughters outside her house in Tlacochahuaya.

By Susan Bean Aycock  •  Photos by Kim Groves

Dreams come in all sizes. In the newest coffee shop in Teotitán del Valle, the space may be small but the dreams behind it are huge.

Enter Fundación En Vía. As one of the program’s first borrowers nearly four years ago, Teresa (Tere to her friends and family) received four successively larger loans to grow the family weaving business. Wanting to set herself apart from other vendors who sold virtually the same products, she began buying diversified inventory on trips to visit her father in San Miguel de Allende.

Then came the leap of faith to realize her long-time dream open a café – and two more En Vía loans to help make that a reality.

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Like nearly three quarters of the 6,000 or so people who live in Teotitlán, Tere became a weaver by virtue of being born into a family of weavers. So was her husband, whose family owns the house where four generations of artisans live and work – and which now features a coffee shop up front.

In this Zapotec town, weaving has been the town’s primary business since well before the Spanish came with their large treadle looms that quickly replaced the inhabitants’ traditional backstrap looms. Children here begin weaving at an early age, learning the ins and outs of fiber, dye and complicated patterns at the feet of their parents and grandparents.

Weaving often is the sole means of family support – but in this town of tremendous competition for the business of few tourists, it’s becoming harder and harder to do. “Teresa had the vision of creating income that wasn’t dependent on weaving,” says Samantha Wattson, En Vía Program Director. “It’s a saturated market, and she thought of offering a comfortable place to have a coffee or sandwich – with the rug gallery on the other side of the shop.”

Even with En Vía loans to carve out and paint part of the family home to create the café, it hasn’t been easy to open a new business. Said Tere on grand opening day April 18, bustling to make coffee in her yellow plaid apron, “We’ve learned by making mistakes. I even used my own dishes at first before I realized we’d have to buy coffee cups and things just for the café.

“And the coffeemaker, that’s a whole other story. We bought a regular home coffeemaker but it just wasn’t made for use all day, and it burned up the first week we were open.

People were already coming in for business, though, and we thought, ‘We can’t close already; we’ve just opened!’ But we also didn’t know how we would buy a new one. In the end, we arranged a family loan to buy an industrial coffeemaker”.

Tere’s dedication to her dream and persistence to make it work, despite setbacks such as the coffeemaker, have earned her admiration from both the community and from En Vía. “Teresa has done an excellent job transitioning from weaving to opening a café,” says En Vía founder and Executive Director Carlos Hernandez Topete.

“She has really raised the bar for the other women in the program, and her branching out will help encourage them to do other things too,” he says. “It’s surprised the local community a bit that customers are not just tourists passing through, but locals as well.”

Indeed. In this town which has no movie theatre, shopping mall or night club (or bank or fabric store for that matter), there’s now a place to relax with a friend or date. A cup of coffee at Dalízùn costs 17 pesos (about $1.40), a cappuccino 22 pesos (about $1.75) and a fruit frappé of lime, cucumber and crushed ice is made one at a time in a blender. Tere also serves up tortas (sandwiches) of cheese, spicy pork, sausage or turkey ham, as well as Oaxacan favourites, tlayudas and quesadillas.

Juggling finances is a constant concern as the family struggles to keep the new business going – and most supplies are available only in Oaxaca City, an hour bus ride away. Tere’s husband, Manuel, weaves in the family business, works part-time as a taxi driver and occasionally gets to indulge in his passion of playing percussion with a local band.

“We have many worries about money,” says Tere, who someday would like to expand the family besides their one son Manuel, 4, but wants to wait until income is a little more stable. “Still, being able to have this cafe is a dream come true.”

Today, Dalízùn has two tables. Tomorrow? It may still have only two tables. But then, dreams come in all sizes. After all, even Starbucks started somewhere.*

* The first Starbucks was opened in 1971 to sell coffee beans in Seattle’s Pike Place Market by two teachers and a writer. Later bought out by an entrepreneur who wanted to offer a European-style café experience to Americans, it is the largest coffee house company in the world, with nearly 20,000 stores in 58 countries.

By Kim Groves

I always enjoy being in Oaxaca during times of holiday, and Semana Santa was no exception. The week of Easter is one of the most important on the Mexican calendar, and Oaxaca is one of the most special places to experience it.

On Good Friday, it seemed that the entire population of the town and more was in the plaza and streets surrounding Santo Domingo church. I joined them, expecting a parade. And sure enough, a group of women and men began walking purposely towards us. They braced heavy satin banners against their bodies; the colours were of rich reds and greens and embroidered with gold.

Gilded altars, depicting Jesus in the moments of crucifixion, swayed on the shoulders of persons cloaked in billowing purple, yellow and white.

Behind them, young people walked with their hands held solemnly behind their backs, without exchanging a single look.

I was fascinated, and altogether surprised. But why? There is a gathering in the street here just about every other day. Banners and flags and costumes are nothing new. So what was so different about this particular event? It was the silence.

There was no music; not a single tuba or guitar to be found. There was no singing or raised voices, nor a drop of mescal in miles. There was hardly a footfall heard as the procession passed, barefooted on the road. The crowd was silent too, except for the click of cameras and the soft shuffle of bodies trying to find a better place to see.

The covered faces startled me at first. I wondered what they were thinking and feeling as they walked by, mute, and almost blind. For a moment, a man carrying a large wooden cross stopped to rest close to me. His eyes did not meet mine or anyone else’s. I could hear the slight movement of his purple cloak falling against his skin, and see the detail of the face of Christ tattooed onto his chest.

When he began walking, I was startled by the sudden thunder produced by his and another dozen wooden crosses being dragged over cobblestone. It rattled in me, that noise, even after it had passed.

That was Friday. Sunday of course took on a very different tone...

On Easter Sunday, in the evening, I ran into some friends hanging about on the corner. I saw some neighbours sitting on the steps. Families were blowing soap bubbles. Lovers were leaning against walls. Little kids were playing a great game that involved darting about between everyone’s legs.

I love rubbing shoulders with the people of this town on days like this. Everyone is welcome, whether you were born here or have just stepped into the street for your first stroll and discovery.

People carried great sprigs of rosemary tied with string as well as small white cotton flags. I leaned out intentionally into the path and some of the fresh herbs tickled my nose as they passed.

Rosemary is sacred to the Virgin Mary. They say she once draped her blue coat over a rosemary bush to save it from getting dirty on the ground, and ever since then, the flower has been a shade of bluish white. It has long been an herb of remembrance, and on this day, the people were remembering something very important.

All day Sunday, starting at 6 in the morning, I had heard a steady battery of rockets coming from the church. Now, standing in the plaza looking up, I could see the sudden shadows of the men on the highest ledge as they leapt back from the light and sound.

The tubas and guitars arrived then, and they delivered song after booming song. As if in response, plastic cups were thrown into the crowd from the back of someone’s pick-up truck to be assumedly filled with mescal or some other celebratory drink.

 The street turned a different colour as the fireworks ran and raged over the castillo structure. I took a moment to relish the sensations. My chest was reverberating with every bang and spark. The acrid sweet smell of the burning powder, admittedly one of my favourites, was in my hair and on my clothes.

At the pinnacle of the structure the words burned red, white and green.

VIVA LA RESURRECCION DE CRISTO.

There was not a single person that was silent then, I assure you.  

Though I preferred the lights, music and the loud rejoicing of the people on that Easter night, I also appreciated the time spent on Good Friday in quiet thought and reflection. They were two different parts of the same remembrance and reverence, and no matter your belief or conviction, everybody was welcome to participate and celebrate in the gift of spring and new life. 

By Louise Branch

I came on board volunteering for En Via in January 2012 with the task of coordinating the already very successful and popular English classes in the town of Teotitlan del Valle. Thanks to an incredible group of volunteers these classes have been going strong in En Via's flagship pueblo for over two years and enjoy the attendance of an extraordinarily dedicated and hardworking student body.

From six-year-olds who already know how to say the name of every animal in the zoo, to busy weavers who always find time to come to class, week in and week out, our classes are open to all members of the community. The classes are just one part of En Via’s education initiative, which aims to support the development of our borrowers enterprises and skills. Along with our business courses and computing and Internet classes we aim to give the women we work with the tools they need to create their own success.

So, with the classes in Teotitlan going strong, and the microfinance program moving out into new pastures, it was time for the English Program to also stretch out its wings and start a new program in Tlacochahuaya. Tlacochahuaya is a beautiful pueblo on the way out to Teotitlan. Like Teotitlan it has an incredibly strong sense of community, but it is also very different. The town is less focused on artisanal crafts and tourism, and more on agriculture. In fact, it is famous for its garlic production. This gives Tlacochahuaya a very different atmosphere, and also different needs within the education program. With this new town, we have the opportunity to try out new things and develop a new curriculum with a different focus. This could be a real but worthwhile challenge!

Samantha and I went out on the first day to test the waters, not expecting any students to turn up and were a little shocked to receive 10 students for the very first class! This was a really impressive turnout, and we spent the class doing assessments and playing a few simple games with students.

Very much encouraged by this fantastic start, I went out with two more volunteers for the next session where the class had grown again despite the fact that it was the day of an important pueblo calenda. With Maria teaching the kids class and Alana taking assessments, we had a good team going. The next week was slightly more challenging, but mainly for Maria who received a huge intake of children at a beginner's level. But being a creative and very flexible worker, she powered through and has run some fun and productive classes!

Outside of our classroom we have had the chance to see (and definitely to HEAR) a beautiful Semana Santa calenda with a procession of women carrying baskets of multi-colored flowers above their heads, followed by an inter-pueblo brass band competition in the adjacent building the following week. Asking the students about these traditions have made good English conversation topics and have introduced a lot of new vocabulary, whilst also (very selfishly!) satisfying my curiosity...

So far the students in Tlacochahuaya have been every bit as dedicated as those in Teotitlan, and their community supportive and welcoming. We look forward to a great relationship and to learning lots about each other! 

Photos by Kim Groves

By Louise Branch

I came on board volunteering for En Via in January 2012 with the task of coordinating the already very successful and popular English classes in the town of Teotitlan del Valle. Thanks to an incredible group of volunteers these classes have been going strong in En Via's flagship pueblo for over two years and enjoy the attendance of an extraordinarily dedicated and hardworking student body.

From six-year-olds who already know how to say the name of every animal in the zoo, to busy weavers who always find time to come to class, week in and week out, our classes are open to all members of the community. The classes are just one part of En Via’s education initiative, which aims to support the development of our borrowers enterprises and skills. Along with our business courses and computing and Internet classes we aim to give the women we work with the tools they need to create their own success.

For the children of the community we offer a general English program, hoping to give them an introduction and opportunity to learn the language. Adult students, on the other hand, are involved in a program that is focused on sales and marketing. There is a strong reference to language related to the town’s key artisanal craft of weaving wool products, as well as other industries and trades relevant to the student.

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By Kim Groves

Each week, the women borrowers and staff who make up the En Via program, come together to mark and administer the progress and growth of the lending network. This weekly town meeting is an important time. The women come to make payment on their loans, to receive loans, and to find out about new programs and updates.

It is essentially a time for everyone involved to catch up with the happenings of the past week. For the groups of borrowers, it can be an opportunity to discuss the progress of their individual loans and to share and suggest strategies. For En Via staff it is a space in which to explain loan processes, check in with the women, and maintain the transparent and inclusive nature of the program.

At this past week’s meeting we were delighted to welcome a significant number of new members into the program, presenting them with their diplomas from the completed business course, as well as their very first interest free loans. I noticed that the women were just as proud to receive recognition for completing the course as they were to invest in their own projects and businesses.

I sat with one woman of this new intake and helped her fill in the form needed to receive the loan. She could not read or write, but she knew exactly the amounts of the different products that she was going to invest in to sell at her market food stall, down to the last peso and kilogram of potato. As I noted it all down for her, her borrowing group were nodding in approval and support at her shoulder.

The beauty of the program is the way that it relies so much on the existing and developing relationships within the town. I never can quite remember who is whose cousin, and who is whose sister-in-law, but the entire program is a complicated web of social connections. This is what makes us strong. As a microfinance organisation we run an economic program, but more than that we are a social entity. The social trust that has grown within the communities is incredibly important to us. It is a trust that has led us to meet new women, and to be invited to work in new communities.

Older women, and young, new members, and founding members, they make up a group that is dynamic and forward moving. Each woman has a different background, as well as different goals and motivations, and as we work alongside them we see how they support each other’s successes.

By Kim Groves

 In 1975, during International Women's Year, the United Nations began celebrating International Women’s Day on 8 March. Since then it has become a day where we can formally acknowledge the achievements, sacrifices and contributions that women have given to the world. It is a day to be proud and to celebrate the work that has been accomplished in women’s rights. It is also a day to recognise how much more we need to do to achieve women’s empowerment as well as harmony and mutual respect between the sexes.

As a not for profit microfinance organisation, Fundacion En Via lends to women with the belief that women invest in and plan for the futures of their families and positive development of their communities. As women, often indigenous, living in a regional area of Mexico, they can often experience unjust marginalisation from what is considered the main stream. They are dignified women, hardworking, and capable, and they make up vital parts of their communities. We endeavour to provide them with something that every woman in the world is entitled to; a chance at independence, empowerment, and a success story of their own writing.

Carlos Hernández Topete, En Via’s Executive Director, recently shared what International Women’s Day meant to him. What he said has really resonated with me. “It is a reminder that we should recognise women every day. They are half the talent and half the intelligence in the world. Imagine all of those women whose voices are not heard. We do not benefit from their input or from their thoughts. Their energy and potential is wasted”. For Carlos, and for all of us at En Via, it is important to work hard to include women every day, in every part of our society and life. Because what many people do not realise or acknowledge is that the empowerment of women benefits everyone.

With the aim of including the voices of women on this special day, and every day, I take pleasure in introducing you to some inspirational women who are working within the En Via program as borrowers and investors in a better future.

Amelí has been with the program since August 2011. She runs a small business selling potato fries and hamburgers in Diaz Ordaz, a small town in the Tlacolula Valley of Oaxaca. She is generous enough to offer her home as a place where all participating women in the town, and all those interested, can come to talk about their experiences and move through the process of receiving microloans.

Amongst the chatter of the group this week I asked her what she considered the best thing about being a woman. She quickly replied, “being a mother”. Her son, Axel, of 2 years and 7 months, was in her arms. I looked at them together, and I believed her.

When I asked her if she had advice or a message for other women, the positivity of her answer delighted me. She encourages women to animate! And to motivate! To get involved in programs like En Via, and to work towards having something for themselves, be it a business, a project, or an art. “To have something that is theirs”.

Join us next February 29 for a Hand Made Chocolate Demonstration, Raffle, Chocolate Drinks and Treats at the Instituto Cultural Oaxaca (Casa Chata)

Sponsered by Instituto Cultura Oaxaca (www.icomexico.com), Fundacion En Via (www.envia.org) and Planeta.com

Find the Event on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/events/310742785653536/

By Kim Groves

The patio that I had been invited into many times before had been transformed almost beyond recognition into a floating, twirling, pink paradise. There were balloons, alternately white and pink, strung like great plump marshmallows above me. Long tables with the same pink plastic were set for an unknown, and seemingly rotating, number of guests. Standing at the door, peeking in shyly, everything seemed to be moving in some beautiful preordained rhythm.

I was in Teotitlán, and in one of En Vía’s borrowers, Eugenia’s house, but it was not a usual visit, not a tour, not a class, not a workshop, nor a borrowers meeting. There were none of the family’s colourful tapetes to be seen. Everything in the living and working spaces had been swept, polished, turned upside down, and made clear for this special event: this fiesta de quince años or 15^th birthday party.

Some say the custom of giving a girl a special party for her 15^th birthday is an adopted Spanish coming of age tradition. Others say it has many strong echoes to much older indigenous ceremonies that existed in Mexico long before the European arrival. In many cultures in the world you will find ceremonies or events that acknowledge the transition of a girl from childhood to womanhood, and I am delighted to discover such a beautiful concept alive in Mexico.

 Coming striding out of the kitchen, Eugenia spotted us and made a move to embrace us, but remembered at the last second that she had her arms stacked with plates of steaming stew. We were ushered upstairs by our dear friend, fellow En Via volunteer, and host, Alejandro, and were immediately seated amongst the other guests and given our fill of food and drink. There were about a dozen women at the party that were part of our program, and many stopped to greet us kindly as they passed among the crowd of family and community. 

After everyone had eaten, the formalities of the party really began. Everyone was sitting—the men were on one side of the large patio and the women on the other—when the Quinceañera entered the room. Her pink and white dress bloomed around her. She looked like a princess, but she carried herself like a queen. I felt a little hush fall about her. The master of ceremonies, who stood to my right, tapped his finger on his microphone. “We are your family”, he said warmly. “We are your friends; we are the people that love you, and we are ready to welcome you”.

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And so she drew a quick breath and stepped out onto the dance floor, for her debut, for her first-ever public dance. Traditionally, girls are not permitted to dance in public, except at school or family events before they reach 15 years of age. First she danced with her father, and in her first pair of high heels, I noted she was more than an inch taller than him. It was a waltz, and this surprised me after all the ranchera, salsa and cumbia that usually formed the soundtrack to the nights in the valley. With her young chamberlain or escort of honour beside her, she proceeded to dance with various members of the extended family and community in turn. In inviting each member to dance, they were formally recognised and appreciated for their role in her life and her upbringing to womanhood. In turn they each had the chance to acknowledge and welcome the Quinceañera as a new and valued adult member of their society.

I thought that the 6 young men, her chosen escorts or chambelanes, might have been there just to look handsome—and in their suits and matching pink ties they were a wonderful sight—but no, they impressed all by performing what seemed to me the most complicated of choreographed dances with the Quinceañera. I was literally stunned to witness it. As they danced, cascades of glitter fell from the terrace above. Small detergent bubbles caught the lights and were chased by children through the edges of the crowd. There was a beautiful flourish of rose petals thrown from unseen baskets. Sparklers and small fireworks burnt brightly in annunciation. 

When it came time for her mother to give a speech, I could not understand the words, but I found that I knew exactly what she was saying. Tears were in my eyes as I knew there were in hers. Alejandro, whispered a translation from the Zapoteco to us, and it was if I already knew what he was going to say. She said that she knew things had not always been easy for their family through her daughter’s childhood, but that she was so proud of her and who she had become, and that she knew that she would continue to make her proud in her womanhood. From her heart, she wished her happiness, success, health, and love. The girl nodded seriously in acknowledgment, conscious of all eyes on her, and blinked away the tears that appeared on her perfectly made up lashes.

One of the most beautiful ceremonies of the night was that of La Ultima Muñeca, or The Last Doll. The Quinceañera was brought a big decorated box that contained 14 little toy dolls. She walked ceremoniously, and with grace among the guests, and she presented the dolls, one by one, to the little girls in the crowd. Just when I thought it could not be a more beautiful symbol for the leaving of childhood, someone came out with a 15^th doll. It was wearing the same dress as the Quinceañera, and had the same long dark curled hair under a tiara. This was to be her last doll she would receive for her birthday. She rocked it in her arms with such tenderness. She was no longer a child, but this last doll would serve as her connection, to this stage, and all the stages of her life as a woman.

After this ceremony was the final crowning of the Quinceañera. The Quinceañera’s grandmother, dressed in the traditional skirt and blouse of the region, seated her granddaughter on a chair in the centre of the room and placed the glittering tiara onto her head. Her older sister was at her other side to assist. What a powerful image, the three of them there; the maid, the mother and the crone. It was an acknowledgement of the sacred stages of life of a woman, and a gift of living them out in this place, amongst this community who valued and loved her.

I will never forget the joy of being there that night. I will always feel honoured to have been included in something so special. I think I have said it many times before, but I remain in awe of the way these types of events are so intimate, yet at the same time public and inclusive. There were over 300 people invited to the party, and yet the feeling was if I were in the closest, most trusted, circle of the family. Under the pink and through the glitter, what precious symbols of growth and transition they taught me. I went away from the experience thinking of the faces of those little girls with the dolls who would become women soon themselves. I believe and hope, as I do for all women, that in turn they too will come to acknowledge and treasure their own daughters and their daughter’s daughters after them in a similarly beautiful way.