Power of the Pelvic Bone, The

Breaching the Barriers of Social Class in Venezuela

The variables of race and social class may make difficult or even prevent alliances of gender. In spite of this, I continue to gamble on the possibility of a dialog capable of wiping away these barriers.

Susana Reisz, Voces sexttadas1

When one carefully observes the evolution of the cult and the representation of Maria Lionza during this century, one gains the impression of a sweep hack and forth between the creativity of the people and the cultural elite.

Daisy J. Barreto, "El mito y culto de María Lionza"

As Elisabeth Friedman notes in her study of women's political organizing in Venezuela, "Although gender is one of the primary categories of social difference and hierarchy, it is not the only one. Class, race, ethnicity, religion, sexuality, age and disability are also relations of power inequality."' Hriedman goes on to explain that while women may share certain "gender interests," their experiences and levels of agency will differ markedly, given their individual situations. For example, while we will see that motherhood is an issue that may serve to unite a wide range of women in different social and economic circumstances, it does not universally unite all women. It would be impractical for this study to strive to be comprehensive in its consideration of all the iterations of women's social positioning in Venezuela. What is possible is a consideration of" the project of cultural transformation proposed in women's contemporary poetry, especially as it relates to the reconfiguration of structures of power and agency that take place within marginalized religion. In light of the significant différences between the social and economic classes found in Venezuela, it is revealing that women on both sides of the border between rich and poor share one goal-the refiguring of women's representation and public participation.

The width of the breach between rich and poor is one of the sharpest dividing lines between groups in Latin America as a whole. The region has a poverty rate of more than 35 percent, with one of the worst income distributions in the world: in most countries, the income share of the richest 20 percent of the population exceeds that of the poorest 20 percent by more than fifteen times.4 For women in Venezuela, the situation is particularly severe. Women with the same level of education earn 20 percent less than men, and the number of poor female-headed households is greater in Venezuela than in other surrounding countries.3 Venezuelan sociologist Rosa Paredes links this situation to three key factors: first, the underlying discrimination that blocks women's en try into the labor market; second, women's primary responsibility for "unpaid, invisible, [reproductive] roles, activities that convert them into those principally responsible for the economic support of low-income households"; and third, the ignorance of government agencies that refuse to recognize or support women's efforts to enter and remain in the labor force.1'

In the specific case of Venezuela, the economic situation of women has grown worse since the national crisis of the 19808 and 1990s.7 During this period the number of households living in poverty jumped trom 46 percent to 62 percent, and those described as living in a situation of "criticial poverty" increased from 14 percent to 30 percent." Unemployment numbers leapt upward, and the number of women working in the informal sector rose significantly. This forced women to suffer even greater inequities in pay. Paredes notes that the differential in salary for men and women in the informal sector since 1980 has reached 40 percent.4 In the past twenty-five years, women have felt the economic crisis most keenly. They have worked longer hours at more jobs, with less return than their male counterparts: "Most female heads of households struggled simply to provide the bare necessities and had scant time or energy for community participation."1" What, indeed, could these women have in common with the university-educated women with the training and the leisure to write poetry?

Race is another dividing line in Venezuelan society. For many years, as sociologist Winthrop Wright notes, Venezuelans have contented themselves with the "myth of racial democracy" that spins a talc of racial mixing that brings about equality while turning all in Venezuela a uniform outward color of café con leche.}] Wright attacks this notion, however, revealing it to be self-delusional. In his study of race relations in Venezuela, Wright shows how perpetuation of this myth has led Venezuela to ignore problems of race relations for nearly two centuries. No national census since 1854, for example, makes any mention of people by race, so there is no internal data with which the government can study trends or use to establish programs. The American government, however, indicates that a credible breakdown in 1990 would be 21 percent unmixed Caucasian, in percent black, 1 percent Indian, and 68 percent mestizo, which in Venezuela means a combination ot any ol the other categories.12