My Daughters: The Future {Women’s History} Written by ARWB March 2012 Bloggger of the Month, Jennifer Janes, of Jennifer A. Janes
Earlier this month, I wrote about women in my past and present and my desire to pass this heritage on to my children. As I continued to ponder women’s history, I kept thinking about my daughters. Generations from now there will be others who will view my daughters as part of their history.
When I think of the future that way, it’s sobering. What am I doing today to make sure that my daughter’s impact the world for good, leaving a legacy we’ll all be proud of? My children are still young—only eight and six years old. They have plenty of time to make their marks on the world, but I can already catch glimpses of who they will become as I study who they are.
Both of my children are compassionate. They have chosen to sponsor a child through Compassion International and actively seek out ways to raise money to cover our monthly sponsorship costs. They help us recycle paper and cans because it helps the environment and because the money we receive goes into our sponsorship fund. They have sold candy, coloring book pages lovingly colored by them, and fruit punch and coffee at our garage sales to raise the sponsorship money.
In my older daughter I see a budding scientist. I could be wrong, but she seems destined for a career in science or medicine. She enjoys studying the human body and nature and loves animals and performing experiments. My younger daughter is an artist. She’s very creative, and I can definitely see her as a painter, graphic artist, or fashion designer.
I want to nurture these traits: the kindness and compassion, willingness to work hard for what they believe in, and creativity. I want to help them develop their uniqueness and pursue their talents and interests.
My goal is to help my daughters become who they are. Based on what I’m seeing now, I think they’ve got amazing contributions to make and will leave a positive mark on women’s history, regardless of how far-reaching their contributions are.
How are you mentoring the next generation of women? They’re the next chapter in the history books!
Jennifer lives in Southwest Arkansas with her husband and two daughters. She enjoys reading, writing, Bible study, and spending time with friends and family. She has enjoyed serving as Arkansas Women Bloggers’ “Miss March 2012” and is honored to have been chosen. To follow her story, visit:
Mission Accomplished {Women’s History} Written by Kimberly Mitchell of Write Your World
In 1984, President Reagan initiated the Teachers in Space Program, created to spark interest in science and mathematics among educators and their students and renew enthusiasm for the shuttle program. Christa McAuliffe, a high school social studies teacher from New Hampshire was chosen from 11,000 teachers to make history by being the first teacher in space.
Now that’s the part about women’s history. Here’s the rest of my story about this moment in history. One of the 5th grade teachers at my elementary school, Mr. B., also applied to the Teachers in Space Program. Though Mr. B wasn’t selected, he became an advocate for the program and for Ms. McAuliffe until every student in Liberty Elementary knew that on January 28th, 1986, a teacher just like those who stood at the front of our classrooms every day would do the impossible and ride a rocket into space.
My 2nd grade class gathered around the TV the morning of the launch. I saw Mr. B in the hallway, his face electric, his enthusiasm catching. Soon the entire school buzzed until teachers gave up trying to shush our excitement.
It was cold on the launch pad. Icicles hung from the shuttle. The launch was delayed as workers cleared the ice. I worried the launch would be canceled. The countdown started, flames burst from the bottom of the launch pad, the engines roared and my class cheered. For 73 amazing seconds we had liftoff. Then the unthinkable happened. I watched, disbelieving, as the Challenger exploded over the Atlantic.
My most vivid memory of that day isn’t the image of the shuttle exploding, but seeing Mr. B walk into our classroom with tears running down his face.
Three years later, I entered Mr. B’s classroom and began a 9 month journey full of discovery, fun and yes, space exploration. Mr. B took learning to a new level, challenging us to work harder, learn more, and above all, reach for the impossible. We raised money and the entire 5th grade class journeyed to the Johnson Space Center in Houston. Who flies fifty-five 5th graders from Tulsa to Houston for the weekend? That trip still remains the highlight of my school memories.
In one year, I learned that learning itself could be exciting, that new discoveries are just around the corner, and that if you push yourself, you can achieve more than you ever imagined. All that came from Mr. B., and it came from a woman and teacher who climbed aboard a space shuttle and took a risk to inspire and educate those around her. Christa McAuliffe lost her life in the Challenger disaster, but in Mr. B.’s class, that sacrifice was never forgotten. He passed on her courage and excitement to his students and it lives inside me today.
Note: Christa McAuliffe photo from www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/mcauliffe.html via www.wikimedia.org. This file is in the public domain because it was created by NASA. NASA copyright policy states that “NASA material is not protected by copyright unless noted”.
Kimberly Mitchell loves journeys, real or imagined. She has traveled to five continents and over twenty countries, always with a book in hand (or backpack). Now she writes middle grade adventures to send her characters on journeys, too. She lives in Northwest Arkansas with her husband and the best souvenir she ever found, a Yemeni cat. You can follow her random musings on writing, traveling, space and even camels at her blog, Write Your World.
It will surprise no one that I was a newspaper nerd in high school (it actually started in junior high). I was on newspaper staff as early as I could be, and I spent all the time I could in the journalism room, which was actually two rooms, complete with a bathroom, a darkroom (in those days we used film cameras!) and a loft.
The back room was the realm of the newspaper staff, where we had computers lining the walls and old-fashioned (even then) light tables and gluing machines for literally cutting and pasting the paper together. The front room was where the photography classes were taught and where a lot of hanging out on the part of newspaper, yearbook and photo staff people took place. It was Mrs. Akin’s room.
I never actually took a class from Mrs. Akin, but she was as much of an influence on my young life as any of my favorite teachers. She ruled her domain, letting us run wild and be teenagers and think that it was our domain but still requiring respect of her, our space, and, when she could manage, each other. A big feat when the high emotions of high school combined with the high emotions of creative people.
The journalism room was the go-to place for newspaper, yearbook and photo staff kids to hang out. We’d be in there before school started (yearbook was first period), during lunch (newspaper was right after lunch), after school and whenever else we could get away with it. I think of Mrs. Akin as the cool mom who always wanted the neighborhood kids to hang out at her place. It was a room of silliness, drama, learning and fun, a happy home that more than a few of us lacked otherwise.
And Mrs. Akin was always there. She unlocked the room in the morning, and seemed to always be sitting at her big metal desk, set diagonal in the corner of the room, behind her peace lily that managed to bloom even though it got no natural light. Behind her, a giant sheet with a tie-dyed peace sign hung.
She was a source of peace and calm, a touchstone. She taught so much more than how to take a good photo (“needs more contrast” was her mantra) or effectively disguise your identity (every year she made up a name for herself to use on photos she took, as an inside joke to those of us in the know). She taught us how to get along with people we didn’t like, to do the hard work we had to do around all the fun stuff, and, I think, how to be better people.
My junior year she wrote in my yearbook “Dear Sarah, In all our Journalism Room madness, you are that rare level-headed person who always helps us get this back in perspective. You’re a pleasure to have around. I’m looking forward to our continuing adventure.”
We took for granted that adventure would continue for a long time. I think we all imagined coming back to the journalism room, while we were in college, maybe, or perhaps years later, and seeing her still there, still sharing her wisdom and fun with the next generation of teenagers. Possibly still with faded notecards of Spanish vocabulary and her giant Murphy’s Law poster on the walls.
But that was not to be. The next spring, in May of 1996, Susan Akin died of a ruptured brain aneurism.
Memory is foggy stuff, but I remember this: I saw her briefly after school the day before she died. I’d only just come back to school after attending my grandmother’s funeral, but I didn’t go to class because I had a day-long AP test. I popped into the journalism room after, and I don’t remember who else was there, but I know she was, and we talked about my grandmother’s death. That was our last conversation.
We knew something was wrong when Mr. Teague, the newspaper teacher, came to unlock the room that morning. There’s nothing to say about a death that comes out of nowhere that isn’t cliché, but that’s probably because the cliches are all true. It was horrible, crushing, life-altering.
We got through it together, skipping class for a week, laughing too loud at stupid movies, with more tears and hugs than you would have thought possible from a bunch of jaded teenagers. And a few weeks later, we pulled together and got the yearbook out. There was a bookmark we also distributed noting her passing, and a bunch of us wore purple ribbons in her honor when we graduated.
It’s been 15 years, which seems as impossible as the idea that high school was 15 years ago. We’ve been through 15 years without those school visits, without getting to tell her what we were up to, introducing her to our kids. It still hurts like a death in the family. I know I’m not the only one who feels that way.
I also know that Mrs. Akin has influenced my life in ways she could never imagine. Because of her influence (and Mr. Teague, of course, but this is a women’s history story) and my love for my time spent in that room, I became a journalism major. Which led me to editing, which led to freelancing and all the unpredictably awesom things that have happened since. Her legacy is still here, in each of us who still share a love of words and a sense of silliness. I know I’m not the only one who feels that way, either.
Sarah E. White is a freelance writer, editor, blogger, wife and mom of a 2-year-old based in Fayetteville. She’s the Guide to Knitting for About.com and writes about her crafty life at Our Daily Craft .
Bikes, Babes and Bloomers {Women’s History} Written by Lisa Mullis of Frenetic Fitness
In celebration of Women’s History Month let’s talk about clothes. We love them. We wear them. We use them to impress and to be comfortable. Some of us listened to our mothers complain about garters and girdles. Many of our daughters will remember us complaining of the days of pantyhose being all but required for the office or for church. But I have to wonder, as I slip into my spandex/lycra bike shorts and lightweight nylon jersey, what would it have been like to try to live my lifestyle of athletic outdoorswoman while wearing a rib crushing corset and a 15 pound multi-layer of crinoline and skirt?
As the 19th century came to a close, there were great improvements to an invention that was changing the way people traveled: enter the bicycle. Cycling in Europe was a rapidly emerging sport in the 1860’s and 70’s. In 1877 a man named Albert Pope imported a contraption called the Penny Farthing or the Ordinary bicycle from Britain to America.
His company, Pope Manufacturing, would begin producing the Columbia bicycles. In that same year, the fashionable woman might have been outfitted in an underskirt to support a bustle with layers of ruffles and frills, a tight fitting corset, and a long waisted tight fitting bodice with long sleeves and during the day, a high neck. I can’t imagine how women were supposed to travel by bicycle wearing all that but many of them did; and many were injured by skirts caught in wheels or chains. I’m betting a lot of skirts were ruined too. Tired of sweating under layers of cumbersome clothes and worried about getting thrown to the ground, or tearing a skirt, the need for reasonable cycling clothes spawned a new fashion trend of split skirts or shorter skirts with a type of trouser underneath.
Amelia Jenks Bloomer was the editor of The Lily, a women’s temperance magazine. She was one of the best known proponents of the movement that would spawn the Rational Dress Society. Aiming to rid women of the binding and physical hindrance of corsets and heavy layered skirts, Mrs. Bloomer promoted the wearing of Turkish Trousers. These trousers, which became known as “bloomers” due to her patronage, would become the basis for women’s cycling suits. Amelia passed away in 1894, just as female cyclists were gaining acceptance and divided skirts and bloomers were adopted as cycling attire. She herself gave up wearing the trousers most likely due to societal backlash. Men thought that allowing women to wear the bifurcated raiment then exclusively available to men, would lead to women expecting to compete for a man’s place in society. Even many women felt that the shorter skirts and knickerbocker style cycling suits were immodest and lessened the gracefulness that is the hallmark of the female sex.
But all hail the freedom that comes from riding a bike. As women took to the cycling club tracks, the parks, and the streets to ride their bikes they enjoyed a huge increase in freedom of movement. Young women could cycle away from the prying eyes of parents and wives were not reliant on husbands for transportation. Bikes not only gave them independence but also gave them the freedom of exercise because they had ditched those binding corsets, hitched up their overskirts and put on their bloomers. Elizabeth Cady Stanton was already in her 80s during the Golden Age of Bicycling but she had this to say about the benefits, “The bicycle will inspire women with more courage, self-respect and self-reliance and make the next generation more vigorous of mind and of body; for feeble mothers do not produce great statesmen, scientists, and scholars.” This unburdening of those weighty garments let women exercise out in the fresh air, possibly for the first time since they were young children at play around their mother’s heavy skirts and before conforming to the feminine ideal of the day.
And knowing all of this, I’ve attempted riding my bike wearing a long skirt as part of the first of what I hope is an annual event for Little Rock, the Tweed Ride.
Photo used with permission.
Though my skirt was shorter and lighter than what women would have been wearing at the turn of the century, it still made riding more of a chore than wearing shorts or tights. Yet I’ve rarely had as much fun on my bike, especially with the knowledge that I didn’t ever have to wear that get up again if I didn’t want to. Instead I’ll stick to my short, tennis dress length bike skirt. You read me right; I own a spandex bike skirt. I wore it to the opening of the Clinton Library Bridge in Little Rock because I felt I should dress up for such an event.
As we sit around the house wearing yoga pants, or pull on shorts to head out for a run or to play with our kids at the park, as we put on our stretchy bike shorts with padded chamois, let’s give thanks to those women who were the bra burners of their day. And ride off into the sunset on our two wheeled steeds.
“[T]he bicycle will accomplish more for women’s sensible dress than all the reform movements that have ever been waged.” ~Author Unknown, from Demerarest’s Family Magazine, 1895
For all my homeschooling friends: I found this lovely book in the juvenile section of my library Wheels of Change: How Women Rode the Bicycle to Freedom by Sue Macy, check it out.
About Lisa: I’m a Wife and Mom. I’m a microbiologist. I’m a mountain biker, hiker, backpacker, sometime runner, and workout enthusiast all while being addicted to good food. I write about it at http://freneticfitness.wordpress.com. I also write for ArkansasOutside about other people who love to play outside too. I’m fueled by pizza, red meat and goat cheese risotto. And sometimes I sleep.
Since November we have been hinting to you about a gathering this spring. Well the time has arrived!
We want to extend a formal invitation to all of you to join us at the Historic Arkansas Museum in downtown Little Rock for an official Arkansas Women Bloggers meetup! Mark your calendars for Saturday, April 28th and don’t forget to bring all your bloggy friends! Here’s our agenda for the day:
9:00am – We’ll break into small groups lead by the ARWB Gals to discuss the blogging topics most important to you! Help and be Helped by your fellow Arkansas Women Bloggers!
10:00am – Learn a little more about the Historic Arkansas Museum, which has graciously stepped up to host our meetup.
10:30am – Time for refreshments, networking (that means chatting), and exploring the museum.
12:00noon – grab your ARWB friends, new and old, and head out to lunch in the downtown area. There’s something for everyone within easy walking distance. Then, save room for dessert and head across the bridge to the Argenta Market in North Little Rock and hit the Foodie Bloggers Charity Bake Sale (watch our website for more info on this event)!
We’ll also be giving away an attendance spot for our ARWB Conference scheduled for June 1-3 at the Ozark Natural Science Center! We’ve got some other goodies and fun in store too. In support of the Food Bloggers Bake Sale, anyone who brings baked goods for the sale to the meetup (we will transport them to the sale for you) will get an extra entry into the conference giveaway!
The Historic Arkansas Museum has reserved parking, so save your meter/garage parking money for the Museum’s fun gift shop, which is full of fantastic wares made right here in Arkansas. You can go here to RSVP for the meetup on Facebook, or you can leave a comment to let us know that you’ll be attending.
As a part of Jasmine’s experiment dubbed “Project Totus”, Jasmine was invited to Green Mountain at Fox Run. To follow Jasmine’s journey with food, emotional wellness, and body acceptance check out TheBrokins.com
Women can become so body obssessed! We adopt what media and social constraints tell us about our body. Though the average woman is anywhere between size 12-16, we still glorify the size 2. There is nothing inherently wrong with size 2! She is beautiful! So is a size 26, though! I was one of those women chasing the perfect jean size, ever distracted from fulfilling my potential as a woman because I was lost in the tyranny of dieting and punishing my body with workouts I did not enjoy.
I was invited to come to Green Mountain at Fox Run as a blogger. I left Green Mountain at Fox Run changed from the inside out. Even as I write this, I feel the emotions I unearthed bubble up. I cringe, inhale, and think quietly to myself, “you are okay, you are safe.” Green Mountain at Fox Run is a facility that was founded to address the broken mentality that exists about women’s body, food habits, and fitness. It is a woman only center that helps address nutrition, emotional health concerning food, and body fitness. The staff at GMAFR stand by the belief that your size DOES NOT equate to your quality of life. This is a hard belief to hold in our body obsessed society. I used to be, and still frequently am, obsessed about “skinny”. Chasing the next diet, diet tip, “life style change”, and ideal weight became distractions and compulsions for me. I am a recovered Bulimic turned Binge Eater.
While at Green Mountain at Fox Run, I experienced professionals for the first time in my life applaud my body. They focused on what it had accomplished instead of what it had not. Robyn, their gentle-spirited nutritionist, encourages each woman to heal their relationship with food. “Feed your body well,” she said in a class I attended. Her beautiful long hair tossed from side to side as she passionately encouraged us to eat foods we love.
One of my most formative experiences was with Kate Nolte, Green Mountain’s fitness specialist. Kate is an energetic and approachable woman. Her level of fitness shows in her sculpted body. I felt very intimidated by her. By the end of the week, though, I was being challenged to believe in my body and my abilities the way Kate believed in me. She shows woman after woman that your body is an amazing tool, irregardless of its size.
Combine Robyn and Kate with Darla Breckinridge, the Clinical Psychologist whose “Darlaisms” will make you both cry and laugh, and you get what I call the Green Mountain at Fox Run Trifecta. I came home deeply broken. I was in mourning. I realized how ugly I had been to my body, to myself. I realized how I had adopted a lot of what society and the media tells me to believe. I am still mourning… but today I am inching closer to hope and joy. I am embracing this body of mine with stretch marks and all. I am celebrating that I am beautiful and a scale cannot tell me that. I am finding ways to appreciate my womanhood, curves, rolls, stretch marks and all!
Jasmine Brown of The Brokins is the kind of girl you either love or really love. She is smart, wet-your-pants funny, and sometimes brutally honest. She has a unique and even snarky outlook on life. You will learn a lot of things you’ve always wanted to know and even some things you didn’t on her blog The Brokins.
Our Story {Women’s History} Written by ARWB March 2012 Bloggger of the Month, Jennifer Janes, of Jennifer A. Janes
As I considered the topic “Women’s History,” I thought about some of the women I have studied and considered researching one who inspires me as fodder for this post. All I could think about, though, was our history.
I have regrets. I am not a genealogist, and I really don’t have a desire to spend lots of time tracing our family roots back to debtors’ prison in Europe. (I have family members who have already done that for me.) What saddens me is that I’ve lost stories that are part of who I am, part of who my daughters are. Our family is full of amazing women, yet their stories are lost because the storytellers have died, relationships have eroded, or I neglected to write down the stories I was told while they were fresh on my mind.
I have some mementoes to pass on to my daughters: a wedding band from my great-grandmother, jewelry from my grandmother, the quilt with flour sacking on the back that my great-great-grandmother made. I have a few stories too, but not as many as I wish I had. One woman in our family survived abuse at the hands of a man struggling with mental illness. After her escape, she got her college degree while raising two boys and had a successful career as an English teacher and school counselor.
Another woman in my family has been strong through circumstances that would have destroyed a weaker person. At the end of her ordeal, her husband’s health was wrecked, and she had relocated and left behind all of her friends and most of what she owned. When my girls are older, I will share her story with them, and they will look at her with new respect and will appreciate even more the time she has invested in their lives.
I remember snippets of other stories too: a crippled cousin who had to live with other family members because her own family couldn’t care for her medical needs, a maiden aunt who had a very long and successful nursing career, the woman who watched her brother walk away to buy a pair of shoes and never saw him again. No one ever knew what happened to him.
As you think about Women’s History this month, please take time to consider your story. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Talk to the history-keepers this month. Record or write down their stories. Your children will thank you.
Jennifer is a history buff who lives with her husband and two daughters in Southwest Arkansas. She enjoys reading, writing, Bible study, and spending time with friends and family. To follow her story, visit:
Best Crop I Ever Raised {Women’s History} Written by Susan Anglin of Spotted Cow Review.
As I work everyday on our dairy farm, I think a lot about the phrase my mother-in-law, Bonnah Lyn, used to say when introducing us to friends or acquaintances—“This is my family—the best crop I ever raised!” Born in 1925 in the rural Arkansas community of Vaughn, Bonnah Lyn was not only the daughter of a farmer, a farm wife and a mother—she was a farmer.
Bonnah Lyn on her tractor in the 1940's
Bonnah Lyn was the second generation to live and work on the farm with her parents. Like most Northwest Arkansas farms in the late 1920’s, Bonnah Lyn’s family milked a few dairy cows by hand, raised chickens, pigs, beef cows and apples. All farm work was by manual labor and without the benefit of electricity or running water. Home chores were added to the list of daily farm work such as gathering wood for the wood burning cook stove and carrying water from the spring or well for drinking, cooking, bathing and laundry. Trips to town to deliver apples or other farm products were made with horse and buggy. I can only imagine the excitement when electricity brought conveniences to her generation that today we take for granted! When I think about the transitions and hardships in her life time, I realize how spoiled I am with all of our modern conveniences. She lived the motto of the Great Depression to “Repair, reuse, make do and don’t throw away anything.”
As a seasoned farm wife with twenty seven years married to the dairy farmer, I have a great appreciation for the sacrifices Bonnah Lyn and other farm women have made in their lifetimes on the farm for the next generation of family farmers. Ninety eight percent of all American farms are family farms. With only two percent of the population working to produce the safe food that we enjoy as Americans, it is important to encourage our families to continue the farm family tradition.
Although our family farm has changed in how it looks and the technologies that are used, our commitment to produce safe, high quality milk while caring for the land and animals continues just as in previous generations. I, too, find myself proudly saying with real understanding about raising the fourth generation of family farmers, “This is my family—the best crop I ever raised!”
Susan Anglin , born and raised as a city girl in Bentonville, now lives on a Benton County dairy and beef farm with her husband,two son and lots of cows. Susan loves sharing about life on the farm and how they produce safe food. You can read more about her on her blog Spotted Cow Review.
Arkansas Women Bloggers has been at its new home for three weeks and what a whirlwind it has been. We have been giving prizes and hoping to entice the 400+ members of our old site to head on over and join us here. If you have not taken the time to join us yet, we hope you will soon! There is power in numbers and we have several deals in the works that will be sweeter, the more members we have. If you have joined us, THANK YOU! We hope you will continue to encourage all your bloggy friends to join us as well.
We want to take a moment to congratulate all of our recent winners and to sincerely thank all of the sponsors of the great giveaways that we have had so far. We will be having many more giveaways and exciting events in the near future.
Recent Winners on ARWB
Jackie W. won the Cooks Illustrated – Best Make-Ahead Recipe from Lyndi of NWA Foodie.
The Pinterest Challenge Wreath Giveaway, sponsored by Gina of Desperately Seeking {Gina}, is still in progress. Please click here for more information on how you can enter to win.
Please help us to show appreciation to our sponsors by taking a moment to visit their websites and follow them on Facebook, Twitter and other social media.
Stephanie, Fawn, Beth and myself are all pretty fond on Arkansas Women Bloggers and we think you are too! Well it turns out that we have another fan, a pretty famous fan! Ree Drummond (yes, thePioneer Woman) thinks what we are doing is pretty cool and has offered two autographed copies of her books to two lucky members of Arkansas Women Bloggers! Pretty cool, huh? We think so!
We will be giving the autographed copy of Ree’s cookbook, The Pioneer Women Cooks, to the member of Arkansas Women Bloggers who refers the most new members between 7am TODAY through 7pm on Sunday, December 4th.
We will be giving the autographed copy of Ree’s love story, Black Heels to Tractor Wheels, to the member of Arkansas Women Bloggers who refers the most new members between 7am Monday, December 5th through 7pm on Wednesday, December 7th.
It’s that simple! We have added a ‘Referred By’ field to the registration form to make it easy for us to keep track. All you have to do is ask your local women blogger friends to list your first and last name or the name of your blog in the ‘Referred By’ field!
Here are four suggestions to help you drum up some referrals:
1. Tell Your Friends
When you are chatting in person, through email, on the phone, or via IM to your gal-pals tell them about Arkansas Women Bloggers and invite them to join. Make sure to tell them to put your name in the ‘Referred By’ field.
2. Blog About Us
Chances are there are at least a few local bloggers lurking around on your blog. We would love for them to find out about us and reading about us on your blog is a great way for that to happen. Please urge your readers to check out our site http://arkansaswomenbloggers.com and to join us by filling out the registration form on our join us page(http://arkansaswomenbloggers.com/join-us/). Make sure to tell them to put your name or blog name in the ‘Referred By’ field.
3. Facbook About Us
Here is a sample status update:
Arkansas Women Bloggers is a great place for women bloggers to Gather, Grow and Connect. I’ve joined them and think you should too! Sign up with them and tell them (insert your name or blog name) sent you! http://arkansaswomenbloggers.com/join-us/
4. Tweet About Us
Here is a sample tweet:
I joined @ARWomenBloggers & think u should 2! Tell them (name or blog name) sent you! http://bit.ly/u1AE1V
And of course there must be rules!
You will be awarded ONE referral point for each person you refer to Arkansas Women Bloggers regardless of the number of individual blogs they register. You must be a registered member at the new Arkansas Women Bloggers website to win. If you haven’t registered yet, you may refer yourself for one referral point. All currently registered members will automatically be awarded one referral point. You will only be eligable for referral points for registration entries AFTER you have registered. Since we are trying to grow our Arkansas based membership you will only recieve referral points for registration entries within the state of Arkansas. All registrants must have vaild blogs. In the event of a tie for the most referrals, the referrer with the first valid referral point that was not themself will be declared the winner. Each contest will be seperate and only entries recieved during the times indicated above will be valid. Prizes will be mailed to the address provided by the winner on the registration form.
Jennifer lives in Southwest Arkansas with her husband and two daughters. She enjoys reading, writing, Bible study, and spending time with friends and family. She has enjoyed serving as Arkansas Women Bloggers’ “Miss March 2012” and is honored to have been chosen. To follow her story, visit:
