If you’re an Evita fan you will understand the melancholy behind the title of this week’s newsletter. If you’re a kindred spirit, you’ll already be singing the next line. If you’re neither, here’s a song to play while you’re reading, and perhaps you’ll become both.
You see, I have been full of melancholy this week, while also asking myself what’s next? Where do we go from here? What happens now?
International Women’s Day arrived on Friday, and sure, it’s necessary and beautiful and a wonderful opportunity for women to celebrate each other. But International Women’s Day arrived in the same week that I watched the documentary about the kidnap, rape, and murder of Sarah Everard. It arrived in the same week that I emailed a senior editor at the BBC asking them to change a headline about a ‘monster who lost control,’ in reference to one of the most prolific rapists of our time. It arrived in the same week that I downloaded an app that tracks me if I’m walking home alone, just in case something happens. International Women’s Day happens every year while women all over the world navigate their safety and make deals with the devil in order to guarantee their safe passage home. It doesn’t always work, because sometimes the devil is waiting for them at home.