The Jaded Hippy

emotional labor

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Fri, 10 Mar 2023 22:22:00 +0000

2016 -- whew, what a little poem I wrote and left in my draft folder. Why not just share it too? It's just a relevant now.

Listening to my niece's songs of choice in the car
I paid attention to the lyrics and I noticed some themes
I noticed themes I remember from my youth
Ideas of womanhood that are perhaps just starting to fade

That our worth as women and femmes is in our ability to give
To give
And give
And give

Primarily to give to men

To give them everything we are
Everything we have
And in return
We are loved

Maybe

This is what I believed in for so long
That my worth lies in what I can give to others
That my emotional labor is what defines my goodness, my heart, my soul
And that work is never meant to be for myself

I think perhaps this is the thing that is breaking
That is no longer enough
I can't measure my happiness in how others feel towards me
I can't measure my happiness in whether they stay

thoughts after an interview

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Wed, 08 Mar 2023 22:19:00 +0000

I wrote this way back in 2020 after interviewing for an HR role with a big Bay Area nonprofit. And in re-reading it, still seems relevant. So I thought I'd post it after all.

She says...

"The culture in nonprofits and the payscale is very different than in tech companies"

"Culture isn't as big of a part of what we do"

Ok but here's the thing "culture" happens anytime more than two humans get together. It's just the name for the norms we establish in groups. Whether you purposefully work on it or not, it's there.

So a good question to ask is why are you ignoring it? Do you not know this? Does organic culture just appeal to you, because putting conscious work into it feels contrived?

Or, is it because in the face of the capitalism and the very real harm and oppression faced by your clients, this seems like a luxury to pay attention to? Are you too focused on surviving to put energy towards thriving?

This goes to the pay scale thing too. Because it's expensive as fuck to live here. We all know this. Why wouldn't you pay a living wage? Isn't that part of the justice you're working towards also?

This all links together. We live our mission through our work, aka what we do with our time and energy and bodies and minds. Our work includes the space within which it's done.

White supremacist capitalist patriarchy makes that seem impossible. But it can't be. We're doing the impossible all the time, aren't we? For our clients? Why not ourselves too? Not instead of...but ALSO.

Yeah I know well the culture of nonprofits. Self-sacrifice, overwork, scraping by, inevitable burnout.... why are we continuing to accept this?

Also, I know SOME of y'all have Directors making $$$. So....

Shoe string budgets doing vital work....I get it. But we've got to figure out a better way. We're perpetuating suffering while trying to stamp out suffering...it doesn't make sense!

I suppose I feel like I can write again because no one reads blogs anymore anyway

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Mon, 06 Mar 2023 22:12:00 +0000

I think I stopped sharing my writing (and, really, stopped writing mostly) because I just didn't feel like I had anything to say. Other people were saying the things I thought and saying it better, reaching more people, than I could.

Something I forgot, though, is that sometimes (often in fact) when I sit down to write, something comes out that I wasn't even expecting. It's like a dialogue with parts of myself that are not at the forefront of my mind. That's how my Master's thesis came together in the end, just seeing what came out.

And anyway, no one reads blogs anymore, right? So really, this is probably just for me.

And the thing is, I do always have thoughts and feelings ready to burst out of me, ones that are conscious, but I don't want to share them with others Especially the last few years. These thoughts and feelings are a bummer, and I feel like the world is enough of a bummer without me adding to it.

People have told me that they like that I keep it real, they appreciate it about me, but truthfully I don't believe them. I figure they say that because they are trying to be nice.

I guess it's possible they are being honest, that maybe other people are also feeling down and it helps to know they're not alone, but it's a tricky thing to me because while I never want to paper over real pain or things that need to be said (I know the power in sharing those things) I also know how focusing on everything that's wrong makes it so easy to miss things that are good, and in my life not feeling good is like this hungry ghost that haunts me and it is so greedy, always wanting more. It's easy to sink into that feeling of despair, to just keep feeding it, and I worry sometimes that if I let myself go I'll never come back.

You know, I've spent my entire adult life looking for a place to belong, a way to spend my time (and bring in money) that felt more good than bad? I've shown up at every job I've ever had like "here I am! put me to use! I have so much to give!" and the amount of rejection I've experienced, when I really count it up, is astounding. There have been a scant few exceptions, but unfortunately none have paid our bills in the long term, especially not with the way stuff like rent has gone up and up at the same time (you know we used to be able to rent a place for less than $1,000? wild). That much instability and rejection is hard for anyone, in fact I've been seeing stuff lately talking about how traumatic it is to lose your job and I almost laugh at the amount of trauma that means I've gone through...but when you are neurodivergent (ADHD) and thus don't quite understand what you're doing "wrong" AND you have rejection sensitivity the pain is SO intense.

The last few years has been no exception, with 4 layoffs over two years (jesus). But lately I find myself longing for 2020 because at least with that layoff they did it ethically, with a decent severance, and we had the boosted unemployment amounts so I could actually pay my bills with it. I got a career coach, I spent time really thinking about what I wanted out of a career and where to focus myself, I took a class in that! It was a really productive time in a lot of ways and got me on a track that I still think is a good one for me, even if it's not in step with what I'm finding in the job market right now. I need another break like that, but our dwindling savings says that's not possible and I just need to keep pushing to find something, anything.

What a terrible system.

But I'm stuck. Or at least I feel stuck. Even people I've known who have tried working around this system still seem stuck in it to me.

And there's the hungry ghost of hopelessness.

say her name

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Fri, 05 Jun 2020 15:57:00 +0000

A drawn color image of Breonna Taylor with flowers in the background. The words "SAY HER NAME, BREONNA TAYLOR" are at the bottom.

writing furiously

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Mon, 25 May 2020 00:47:00 +0000

i've been thinking a lot lately about who i was and what i was doing a decade ago, a decade and a half. i was writing writing writing writing. writing furiously. writing on my blog. writing comments on other people's blogs. writing on message boards. writing to my friends.

in person interaction was a lot more limited and frankly that's the way i wanted it. there's no block button irl. there's no time to erase, edit, rewrite. it's not safe.

of course, I learned that the internet isn't safe either. "sticks and stones" is bullshit WORDS FUCKING HURT whether they're yelled at you in person or typed. online you can be swarmed, you can be doxxed. you can be thrown out of virtual community with little effort (this is where that accessible block button shows it's shadow side).

but i took comfort in the distance created by the screen. frankly, I still do. if there's a difficult thing to be said, something full of emotions, i'd still rather write it/type it out before i have to deliver it. because i know words hurt. I know words are limited, meanings multiple, interpretation real and imagined; and being misunderstood is incredibly painful for me. and because when i'm in the middle of emotions, I have a very hard time feeling and articulating what I'm feeling at the same time.

i don't write like that anymore really. i journal for myself, often lately. i share the words of others on ig and fb. i listen and read more. i'm working on being present with my feelings and not trying to rush through them to articulation. i'm trying to be more curious. i talk things through with people i trust and love. sometimes i wonder what is better, and then I think "not better or worse, just different". i reflect more now. i'm learning how to have joy in my life (i hope). i'm finding that's easier in person.

it also seems like the blogosphere is not what it was. do people read blogs anymore? if you are reading this, hi. :) but also there's a freedom in anonymity. it's nice to write this way again after so long. and maybe some of what i've been working on will be good to share. maybe it would be nice to be able to trace my evolution here... if i do, it will be very different than it used to be.

anyway, in the style of my old blogs I will share what I'm reading right now -- adrienne marie brown's "Pleasure Activism" on advice from my sister/friend/life coach/spiritual advisor, Natasha. It's been interesting, and i'd recommend it. especially if you, like me, have been trying to find ways to bring more joy into your life, but not divorce it from the very-serious-politics that matter to you.

also, I saw a couple of drafts I left here from 4 years ago and was stunned how much they resonate with my current inner work, i'll probably edit and roll those out also.

with love and solidarity in joy and chaos,
whatsername

In Memory of Stacey

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Sun, 24 May 2020 01:19:00 +0000

In loving memory of a real one who I know I quoted multiple times on this blog over the years. Stacey Park Milbern left us on her 33rd birthday, and none of us were ready. But she left us a huge legacy.

The #StaceyTaughtUs Syllabus

[caption: a picture of Stacey in her chair, smiling and holding a sign that reads "cherished"]

Social Justice and Reactivity; Reflections on a conversation between Joe Rogan and Jamie Kilstein

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Sun, 24 Feb 2019 08:55:00 +0000

Who'd have thunk THIS is what I'd feel the need to write about after such an absence...

In 2016, I was really invested in the podcast Citizen Radio and it's hosts. And when accusations of predatory behavior came out about Jamie Kilstein, I was honestly devastated. This was someone who I had promoted, supported monetarily, given his music album as gifts to loved ones... And then other people I was invested in said he had acted in a predatory manner towards them, aggressively enough that they ended their friendship with him.

When he disappeared in the face of these accusations, and even in the midst of my grief and upset, I honestly wished the best for him. I hoped that he would take time off to reckon with and heal the damage we all knew he had. That he had TOLD us he had. I hoped he wouldn't hurt or kill himself. I hoped that the consequences of his actions wouldn't suffocate him. I hoped we wouldn't hear from him for years.

Well, in just the past couple of days I learned that he re-emerged. And today I listened to his interview on the Joe Rogan podcast. When it was over, I simply let silence enter the car as I sorted through really, really mixed feelings. Their conversation brought up SO MUCH stuff for me.

Joe and Jamie talked a lot about what I would call the "reactive" culture we currently live in. They spoke about the way that people simply react to things, instead of taking time with them. They spoke about the way in which folks will be labeled as a "traitor" to the cause and excommunicated from social justice circles. The spoke about the way in which people are immersed in communities that go from one outrage to another without rest or reflection.

And I have to agree with them on this point -- our society is highly reactive. People on all parts of the political spectrum do this. And this manifests differently from group to group, but there are certainly a lot of shared characteristics.

Jamie spoke about how being forced to take a step back from the way he was living his life has made it so that he is so much more healthy now. And this reflects my own journey, and that of close friends of mine during this year. It reflects things I've heard discussed on other podcasts, like The Friend Zone, where being "selfish" and disconnecting from the internet and taking time to meditate and read books is needed healing in our reactive world. This made me happy. I wanted such healing for him.

Jamie and Joe both spoke about how taking time with things is important. They both talked about how this reactivity is a negative thing.

And then they played a clip from a confrontation between protesters and the President of a college. And as this woman spoke with pain, and anger, and years of trauma in her voice -- they laughed.

After talking about how he has reflected on what brought him to the dire point he was in last year, as he spoke about how much he did not like the person he had become and how many issues there were to reckon with there -- Jamie also denounced the idea that his behavior had ever been predatory, and denied that there was anything he needed to learn on that front.

When discussing the very concept of predatory behavior in men, Joe characterized it as "just how men act" when they are seeking sex.

Then he went on to deny rape culture exists.

Beneath the anger I felt listening to this, I felt so sad, and so tired.

They'd both utterly missed the point.

-------------

I remember a year or so ago I was having a conversation with one of my best friends about a guy I was into at the time. I was telling them that this guy sometimes says things that are kinda racist, and it bothers me. I was wondering if I should give up on him. I'll never forget what my friend, a queer Afro-Latino Caribbean man, said to me: "well that depends on whether you want to let him be human."

I was stunned into silence. I felt keenly embarrassed. This is someone who knows me well, who knows my heart and mind as well as anyone alive. Someone who is not afraid to call out racism, not afraid to call out homophobia, to tell someone who cut us off in the supermarket exactly how and why she's rude. Not some shrinking violet who will accept challenges to his humanity without a fight.

But here he was, telling me it's ok to let someone be human. Meaning, to be flawed. Meaning, to have room to grow.

That's not an easy thing.

But it is a necessary thing.

I remember when he and I were living together while I was in college, when I was most immersed in the social justice circles of the Bay Area, when I was at my most unforgiving and reactive. I remember being introduced to the idea of Transformative Justice through INCITE! Women of Color Against Violence and feeling immediately how important such work is, I embracing it. If you went by their words, most of my cohort embraced it too. But if you went by actions...many of them were also incredibly intolerant of the humanity of others. I found this over and over again. Perfection was demanded, or you were out. I would even call the way some were treated as straight up abusive. Tearing people down when they fucked up -- when fucking up is human.

So when Joe and Jamie were talking about this thing that happens on the left, I knew what they meant. Yes, it's real.

But here's the thing that gets me when I talk or listen to white cis men like Jamie and Joe have these conversations -- they will say all this against reactivity and have all this analysis of how it effected them and constrained or hurt them -- and then will turn around and laugh and have no patience for those expressing their hurt and pain in ways they don't understand or agree with. And that's where they lose me.

Because as far as I can see, the thing that will bring us away from reactivity isn't self-justification of our own actions and perspective -- it's COMPASSION.

Compassion.

Compassion is the thing I found lacking in my experiences with some people and activist groups, and is also the thing I FOUND among those with whom I'm still connected and learning; compassion is the thing that allows us to be human, to speak to pain someone else caused kindly but honestly, to reclaim what is ours to work on and let go what is not. What allows us to be soft and feel the feelings underneath our triggers and egos and speak our truth and have healthy boundaries and also allows the people around us to still be human.

Compassion for OURSELVES and others.

I wish I had a grand ending thought to close on, but that's it, and that's what I've been working on for myself. None of this is easy, but it's so important and so painful and so needed. And although it took me a year to finish this, here it is and I hope someone else gets something out of it.

As Soon As You Put Me Down I Run Away

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Mon, 06 Feb 2017 02:49:00 +0000

When my friend Natasha did Reiki on me a few weeks ago she noted that in my solar plexus chakra there was an intense and deep seated well of shame. Juxtaposing this, as she worked on this area she got a very clear image of her child running away joyfully with his father chasing him.

Before she was even halfway through describing this image of her child I was welling up with tears.

That child was me.

As soon as I could walk - I was running. Ironically I detest running now, but as a toddler and child you couldn't stop me. It was such a common thing that it became a trope of telling childhood stories about me. In fact while Natasha was recounting this I thought of one image in particular, one that hasn't left me since.

There's a home movie I've seen a few times of my Dad and I in Tahoe, probably in the summer as I don't remember there being snow. I think he and my Mom are laughing as they film me. Or maybe they were just laughing when they showed it to me. Either way, my Dad is holding me and then he puts me down -- and I promptly take off running in the opposite direction of both of them. I'm small, so he is able to keep up with me fairly easily, but it really was remarkable to watch. If they'd taken their eyes off of me for a second I'd have gone quite a ways before they could have caught me. But they're clearly used to this.

I was a fearless child. I gave exactly zero fucks and you couldn't tell me anything.

I don't really remember now what that felt like.

See, remember the other thing that Natasha got from my chakra energy? Shame. Intense shame.

That child? Didn't make it past elementary school.

I guess maybe that's normal. We do a lot of growing in those years. But by the time I hit junior high school you wouldn't have recognized me in that child. Hell, you wouldn't have recognized me as that child by the time 4th grade came to an end.

Part of me is glad of this. That child was starting to grow into someone that was arrogant and self-righteous. I can still be rather self-righteous, so gods only know what would have happened if I was left unchecked to develop. Actually, I think I do kind of know -- I probably would have turned out a lot like Jennifer Lawrence. I have a lot of empathy (and endless critique) for J Law because gods do I see her. Do I know her. Us Leos are SO MUCH if we never learn how to be humble.

Another part of me is kinda pissed that things turned out as they did. Because through bullies and a constantly anxious mother and poor boundaries I turned into someone who takes everything deeply personally, who was shamed repeatedly for who I was, who felt fear of the world around me and closed myself off to so many experiences because of it. My teenage and adult life have been spent trying to get 1/8th of that fearless confidence back. And it's only now, in my early 30s, that maybe I'm just starting to get there.

And yeah maybe that kid would have turned into an asshole if left unchecked. But they weren't one yet. They were just a little tomboy femme wanting to experience the world, trusting that their parents had their back, that if they fell down they could get back up, that if they bumped their head they'd be ok after a good cry. She just wanted to express herself fully, to sing, dance, express -- to enjoy life. And when I think about her I want to cry, for so many reasons but perhaps foremost because I know they were me, but they feel like a stranger.

Can I re-integrate that energy and harness it for good? Can I experience that fearlessness and joy again? Can I come to a humility that isn't based in shame and second-guessing my self-knowledge but in compassionate, non-judgmental and honest assessment of my actions? I hope so. That's what I'm working on now.

Singing, I can hear them singing, when the rain had washed away all these scattered dreams

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Sat, 29 Oct 2016 03:12:00 +0000

A week after returning home from the trial I had another dream of my Aunt.

We were having a family dinner out at a restaurant. Everything felt comfortable and familiar. I was home in Sonoma County, everyone in the family was there, we were having a good time. I was seated next to my Aunt and near my Grandma (her mother, who died the year before my Aunt Robin did). We were talking, I was so happy and thought to myself that I never thought I would get to have moments like this again... and I realized I must be dreaming. The look on my Aunty's face told me I was right, I was dreaming, and I burst into tears and hugged her tightly. She cried too. All the grief I've felt over the years came out and I sobbed.

Once I caught my breath we talked. I don't remember what was said but the emotions passing back and forth were ones of sorrow and grief and anger and love -- that weird mix of things when someone is taken away from you, that mix of things that chokes your throat and is kind of impossible to find the words for. And I got back from her sadness, that she missed us, missed being alive, but also that she was OK. She felt peaceful, and light; she wasn't weighed down by all this shit anymore. She'd figured some things out, and was happy.

Dinner was over and we got up to walk out, still talking. Now we were talking happily, but again it was more feelings passing between us and I don't remember the words. She took my Grandma's hand, and loving feelings passed between all of us as we walked out of the restaurant chatting together. The doors opened into blinding daylight and the dream was over.

This time when I woke up all I felt was joy. We had told each other the things we needed to. It was OK. For the first time since I lost her, I think, I felt like it would actually be ok -- that healing would actually be possible. I felt connected to her again.

My Grandma has visited me since she died, but Robin never had. Not until these couple of weeks. I'm so grateful for both visits, because I think the first made the second possible, and paired together they are honest to my experience of this horrible thing that happened. It's been almost a month and while various feelings have come up, I have felt more at peace about things than I did over the last 7 years. It's not over, and I need to not always keep it to myself, but what remains is the sense that healing is possible, and is happening. My ancestors are with me, even when I can't feel them, and for that I am incredibly grateful.

As I look at next week, and the final sentencing hearing, I hope I close the door on David Frostick and use all I've been through productively in my life. He's ruled more of my life than I ever wanted. That's just a reality. And maybe I'll feel differently if he ever comes up for parole. But for now, I want that to come to an ending. He is a vampire, siphoning the life off of those around him, and I don't need to feed him anymore. He can take back everything that's his. I'm keeping what's mine, and that's my Aunt, my family and my future.

Dreaming, I was only dreaming, of another place and time, where my family's from

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Mon, 12 Sep 2016 15:12:00 +0000

I had a dream that my aunt Robin was never murdered (i could remember that it and the trial happened but it was like that was the dream or something) and instead she was alive and hanging out with us and i was SO relieved to see her face smiling and laughing (as per usual) and to hug her. The dream was longer and had more interaction but that's all i really remember. It felt so real i was confused when i didn't wake up at home in my own bed. I haven't been able to shake the utter sense of loss I feel now.

The Archers, Steven Avery, OJ Simpson and the DV death of my Aunt - some thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Wed, 07 Sep 2016 22:59:00 +0000

Hi all, it's been a while. Thank you, if you're still around. If you've followed my blog for a while now you will know about the death of my aunt, and something about her experiences of domestic violence. Well, my priorities have changed re: writing and online activist participation, but this does seem like the place to write about "serious stuff" -- and it doesn't get much more serious than the trial of her accused murderer. If you don't know (see previous post) it has been 7 years that we have waited for this, as the accused used every available tool to prolong this process with no apparent care to the ways in which he was re-victimizing us (unsurprising really). So we've all had a lot of time at this point to sit with what happened, to process a lot of our feelings, to learn about domestic violence and the court system.

In the last year or so I've gotten into law/crime based podcasts such as Serial (season 1), Undisclosed, Truth and Justice, and Real Crime Profile. I think it has really helped me prepare for what's about to happen, and to understand what these lawyers are doing (because, no matter what prosecutors tell you, they are NOT trying to get justice for YOU and it's not the TRUTH they're trying to get to -- they're answerable to THE STATE and they're trying to PROVE AN ARGUMENT, it's a scored debate more than anything else.... anyway). Below you will find some stuff I've been thinking about that I thought was worth sharing. At the moment, my step-mother and I are sitting outside the courtroom where jury selection is happening in our trial and I have my laptop, hoping I would feel inspired to write something new...but I don't. So enjoy this instead....

Trigger/Content Warning: some graphic description of domestic violence/death.

Lately I've been listening to the Real Crime Profile (RCP) episodes about the Steven Avery case and then the OJ Simpson trial. Along with this there’s been a story line on The Archers for a while wherein one of the characters (Helen) has been in an abusive relationship (yes, it's fictional, but it's also accurate as hell from everything I know/have read). And as I listen to these, each with their own documentation of the behavior of abusive men, of course I am thinking about Aunt Robin. Though separated by time and location and race and nationality - the patterns are all so similar, when not outright the same. And so I know, this must have been what she was going through. For years. And while I don't know what I would have done, I wish I had known, because then there would have been opportunities for intervention I never got. For all the good that might have done. An opportunity doesn't guarantee shit.

I’m preoccupied thinking about what is going to happen with/during the trial. I’m preoccupied thinking about what got us here. I’m preoccupied thinking about the way my Aunt died. When RCP talked about the crime scenes (particularly the OJ crime scene and the way that Nicole Brown Simpson was murdered with such violence and brutality) I found myself nodding along (when I didn’t feel frozen, dissociated and sick). Yeah, I know what those crime scenes look like after the fact. I know the amount of blood a human body can pour out -- even a tiny one. And as they described how she was stabbed through her neck so powerfully it went through her whole body, that he must have lifted her up with the knife, so that she was almost decapitated -- and yet she didn’t die, but bled out… I flash back to what we were told about Aunt Robin. It was her arm, not her head. But same circumstance, same sheer brutality, same ultimate cause of death. I cried listening.

...Knives. Why does it always seem to be knives?

The Archers? Knife.

Avery? Knife and gun.

OJ? Knife and fists.

Robin? Knife.

Maybe because it’s more intimate. And the violence that was already happening was so intimate.

Maybe because we’ve all got them in our houses -- sheer availability.

The little kid (Henry) on The Archers asked why we can’t just lock up all the knives in the world. Kid, sometimes I wonder too.

And as I reflect on all this I guess I keep hoping that we can grow something good out of this shit that’s happened/is happening in our lives. All of us, even his family -- even him (as unlikely as I think that is given his behavior thus far). I could swear Robin has been around lately, as I’m immersed in these stories and feeling my way through them and figuring things out. It's so “funny” that they’re all coming at me at once, but with time to process them. Even Helen's trial for attempted murder of her abuser (The Archers) is happening the exact same week as ours. I hope it's enough to prepare me, even better if it's preparing me for something beyond my own ability to cope with this experience.

“Victims families never have closure, they just learn to keep going” -- paraphrase of what Laura Richards on RCP said when talking about the Browns (IIRC) on one of the OJ trial episodes. Yeah, it seems like that’s probably true. I hope we can find something like closure though. At least find a way to close this chapter. Surely the trial being over will be better than being in limbo? Cuz the other thing I’ve learned from all these sources is that usually abusers are too narcissistic and/or delusional to ever have accountability. Which is the best reason I’ve got for prisons to still exist (which is hard to say for this prison abolitionist). But I could be horribly wrong, too. The end of the trial will mean the end of hoping for the best outcome possible (whatever that is). It will mean we know how this ends, for better or worse.

And here we are

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Wed, 07 Sep 2016 15:06:00 +0000

Family waits 7 years for trial to begin

wrinkles poem

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Sun, 15 Mar 2015 18:35:00 +0000

i used to wonder
what kind of wrinkles
i would have

and as it turns out

they are appearing between my eyebrows
from years of furrowed brow reading

and drawing down from the corners of my mouth
from years of frowning gritting teeth

i always thought that wrinkles say
something
about the life you have lived

so i always hoped mine
would crease my face from smiles
that i would have more
like my father's crows feet
that get more prominent every year

but
i guess i will take the proof
that i have been
troubled
by this world

that i have studied
considered deeply
and refused
to just
smile
and avert my eyes

(Trans)Misogyny on BBC Woman's Hour

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Mon, 11 Aug 2014 00:04:00 +0000

Hi guys, it's been a while. There have been things that I have wanted to write about here and there, but I haven't really had the time to do it. The continuing genocide in Gaza. The fifth anniversary of my Aunt's death (and still no trial for her killer). Police violence. Changes in how I think about my gender. Wrinkles. Sadly in the job I'm in now I don't really have the opportunity to scribble in my notebook as I once did when confronted with thoughts/moments I want to hold on to. But this week I am here, because I heard something so upsetting that I really couldn't let it go.

I clean houses these days. For an eco focused company who pays me decent. It's not a bad gig. We're allowed to listen to stuff with headphones while we work, and podcasts have been the perfect thing for me. If I tune out for a second, unlike with an audiobook, I don't really lose my place. And I don't have the temptation to sing along, like with music (we're not allowed to). So I've been devouring podcasts! Mostly these are BBC podcasts, as I find them largely more enjoyable than ones here from the US. I like hearing perspectives on things from outside my own culture, and the accents, and feeling like I'm learning about another culture sometimes.

The one I've listened to the longest, in fact, for many years now off and on, is "Woman's Hour" on BBC Radio 4. I looked for USian takes on this idea and really didn't find much. But this is basically a one hour show, five days a week, that takes a feminist look at current events, primarily in the UK but they do draw stories from around the world. The topics are as diverse as anyone who has spent time in Women's Studies or the like might expect.

From my perspective this show is not perfect, but it's often interesting. Much like NPR in the States, Radio 4 seems to be a moderately left-leaning liberal type of environment, and Woman's Hour generally takes a similarly liberal feminist or old school radical feminist perspective on most things. So, obviously, coming from an anti-kyriarchal feminist perspective I often want to respond with "yeah...but" to their segments. From the way FGM and hijab are addressed, or the way they interview sex workers and trans women I can tell there is a deep discomfort with things I take for granted as obvious (like that sex work is work and trans women are women, full stop). I don't love this, but I can live with it most days. Honestly it's often a good reminder about what big F Feminism looks like and values, and clarifies my fundamental differences with them.

But the episode I listened to on Friday was a whole new level. I actually started crying while I cleaned I was so upset and angry, and I had to turn it off at one point. Once the episode was over I cleaned in silence for a while just to clear my head.

As soon as I had read the episode description that morning I knew it wasn't going to be good. "The politics of transgenderism" was the title of one of the segments. OMG, "transgenderism???" It was a huge red flag. That wording is only used by two groups of people: transphobic Radical Feminists, and those who are largely ignorant of what it means to be a trans person and don't know any better yet. After being in the feminist broadcasting business for a long time (decades, I've gathered) I doubted the latter could be the case here. I wasn't wrong. The episode started up and I heard who they had on to discuss their new book during this segment: Sheila Jeffreys. If you're not familiar with her, like Janice Raymond and Germaine Greer, she is a well known feminist whose work has stigmatized, attacked, denigrated and dehumanized trans people (particularly trans women).

But it was worse than I feared, as the host (Jenni Murray) not only let Jeffreys speak at length without interruption even when she was saying incredibly transphobic things, but then repeatedly interrupted Zowie Davy* when she was finally given the chance to reply. It was horrible. It was violent. And while Natacha at UnCommon Sense has already done an incredible job with her article A detailed response to Sheila Jeffreys on Woman’s Hour, I also feel the need to respond with my thoughts to a few things. Thank you also to Melissa Tsang who transcribed the segment, which I have used here.

First of all, Jeffreys attacks trans women who, as they begin to express their gender identity, sometimes rely on stereotypical or hyper-feminine expressions of femininity. Jenni Murray reworded that "accusation" thusly: "Long nails, very painted, long hair, flicked, beautifully made-up. Why is there often an apparent need to become a stereotype of a very feminine woman or a very masculine man?" I've seen this kind of accusation a lot from feminists. And I can't remember who said this, though I think perhaps it was Julia Serano, but the concept of a "trans girlhood" seems very relevant here. It was the simple act of pointing out that when cis** girls begin to mature into women, they begin experimenting with gender roles and different kinds of gender expression. Usually, we start playing with the images of womanhood that we see around us. "Around us" can mean in our families, larger communities, or in media (for a few examples). At some point, at least once or twice, most of us will "try on" a hyper feminine gender presentation: copious makeup, high heels, painted nails, long hair and yes, maybe we will even "flick" it. As children, this is considered perfectly normal. We're trying to figure out how what we feel inside corresponds with how we dress and adorn ourselves on the outside. Trying to figure out the responses we get to different expressions of ourselves and how that makes us feel. Trying to figure out what we're comfortable with.*** And yet, when a trans woman does this very same thing, she is somehow pathological.

Maybe it is because when many trans women come to this girlhood stage, they are adults. But tomorrow, I turn 30 years old, and I'm STILL messing with my gender identity! So why the hell would we assume that a trans woman who has just started expressing her femininity outwardly would have it all figure out right off the bat? Why wouldn't she do many of the very same things that cis girls do? From personally knowing, reading about and listening to trans women, it doesn't seem like this stage lasts very long (again, just like with most cis girls). In fact most, if not all, of the trans women I have known express a very toned down version of outward femininity. The most hyper feminine women I know in real life are all cis women! That Jenni Murray and Sheila Jeffreys both seem to believe that trans women stay statically in this place of hyper feminine expression suggests a real ignorance of lived trans womanhood.

Directly after this part of the discussion, Zowie Davy responds brilliantly to this accusation of hyper-femininity by pointing out two things that Murray ignores altogether. 1) That this focusing on "stereotypical" femininity "assumes that femininity is somehow bad" and 2) that it is GENDER CLINICS, aka the gatekeepers of trans people's access to vitally important medications, that absolutely demand very normative gender presentation to take trans people seriously. This second point has been talked about by trans people in many places; it is the violence of the medical industry on gender variant people, and a real enactment of patriarchal understandings of gender by systems of power. These are the exact same dynamics that harm cis women in incredibly violent ways within medicine. Honestly, even the most basic RadFem should take this point very, very seriously because it's the exact kind of patriarchal power over women that they regularly debunk. And similarly, the first point is one that also falls precisely within the RadFem wheelhouse, reclamation of "the feminine" is something I first came across in radical feminist writing! Further, the denigration of practices, work and people designated feminine is exactly something Woman's Hour regularly fights against.

Just not when it comes to trans women, apparently.

Finally, the segment ends with the tired, played out fear mongering of "men dressed as women going into toilets and raping (cis) women!" Look, this is a horrible, violent, demeaning accusation, and one which is totally baseless. Not because some version of it has never happened, but because people like Jeffreys pretend that trans women are exceptionally apt to raping people, and because this accusation is largely a roundabout kind of victim blaming. So, first of all, sexual assault happens amongst all genders. This is a fact. Queer and straight, cis and trans, women, men and all people in between; sexual assault happens, and the victim and abuser come from every group. Yes, we know some kinds of violence are gendered, and that those gendered masculine are more often the abuser. But, and this goes to my second point as well, trans women are THE MOST LIKELY TO BE SEXUALLY ASSAULTED. Like, statistically, this is a thing we know. And specifically, trans women of color with a disability are the most likely people to be assaulted. Because they are on the lowest end of the social hierarchy, the most dehumanized, the most looked down upon. To turn around and say that trans women, a group that is most likely to be abused, are the ones going around doing all this abusive behavior, is some of the most sick and twisted kind of victim blaming I've seen. And Jenni Murray not only let this (and all the rest of this abusive tripe) slide, but posed it back to Zowie Davy as though it was some compelling kind of question.

It might be a while before I can bring myself to listen to Woman's Hour again.

* The sacrificial trans woman who was seemingly only asked on so Woman's Hour could claim the segment was "balanced" [which is a BBC requirement for most political stories, I gather].

** I'm going to use the simple binary of cis and trans in this piece, to mean people who ~roughly~ adhere to their assigned gender at birth (cis) and people who don't (trans), but the reality is there is quite a spectrum.

*** Total sidenote but this process is probably a FAR superior example of performativity than the one Butler actually used of drag performance....

Connect the Dots: Refinery Corridor Healing Walks

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Sat, 05 Apr 2014 18:26:00 +0000

If you are in the Bay Area I'd definitely recommend checking this out!

Connect the Dots: Refinery Corridor Healing Walks:

The Connect the Dots: Refinery Corridor Healing Walks is a series of four walks along the San Francisco Northeast Bay refinery corridor. The refineries include: Shell, Tesoro, Valero, Phillips 66 and Chevron. Each refinery community suffers from high rates of cancer, asthma and autoimmune diseases.

Join us for one walk or all four between April and July, 2014. Rallies will be conducted at the beginning and end of each journey.

Walk solo, in a group, or relay the walk with your friends. The first walk is about 15 miles. Water will be provided, please bring snacks.

Bring your friends and family! The beginning rally of Walk #1 on Saturday, April 12th will be at the Pittsburg Marina at 9:00 a.m. will feature a speaker from Idle No More SF Bay and local residents. The ending rally at 5:30 p.m. at Waterfront Park in Martinez will be about what we envision for the best possible future for our communities. Maps of the walk route are below. For more information go to: ConnectTheDotsHealingJourneys.org or call (510) 619-8279 or email refineryhealingwalks@gmail.com

If possible, please make your own arrangements to get back to the starting point if your transportation is there. A shuttle will be available but it will take time to go back and forth.

Taking BART? Email us at: refineryhealingwalks@gmail.com
for pick up at 8:30 a.m.

Everyone is invited to join us on these healing walks as we journey along the refinery corridor. We will pray for life, the waters, soil, air, safety of the refineries and their workers, and a just transition beyond fossil fuels. We are all in this together and it's time to envision a better future for our communities.

Humanity exists within a finite system of air, water, soil and life. This is all we have. It is time for humanity to come together to ensure a safe future beyond fossil fuels. All of the tools for this transition are already available. Several times a month there is some type of fossil fuel disaster in the news. Life, soil and water are damaged every time this happens. We must come together to mold the future we want beyond fossil fuels. The time is now and it is up to us. It is obvious that the fossil fuel corporations don't care about us. Our future is in our hands. Join us to create it!

WHEN
April 12, 2014 at 9am - 6pm
WHERE
Pittsburg Marina, Pittsburg, California USA
51 Marina Blvd
Pittsburg, CA 94565
United States
Google map and directions
CONTACT
Gathering Tribes · refineryhealingwalks@gmail.com · (510) 619-8279

Renisha McBride's Life Matters

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Mon, 25 Nov 2013 05:46:00 +0000

Decolonizing Whiteness

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Sun, 17 Nov 2013 23:19:00 +0000

Well worth a read for anyone who is classified as White by Western hegemony. Thank you to Cecelia Rose LaPointe through whom I found this piece.

“Do you know the people you come from?”

This is the one question most commonly asked by the world’s Indigenous peoples to people of European heritage. For the large majority of us in America, Europe, and elsewhere, the honest answer beyond simple genealogy is, “I don’t know.”

Unfortunately, this not knowing is part of a deep disconnection that has serious consequences for ourselves and others.

Traditional Indigenous people understand this unknowing lies at the heart of the political, social, and economic systems that have caused, and continue to cause, colonization and genocide of their people as well as destruction of life on Mother Earth.

At the personal level, the lack of being rooted in a culture of place brings spiritual disconnection, shallow sense of self, and historical trauma from the lost ancestral roots and lost way of life that shaped our physical, emotional, and spiritual health for tens of thousands of years.

People of European heritage are often called hungry ghosts because we don’t know our selves. This trauma of disconnection is profound, causing us to constantly grab for anything of spiritual meaning – even if it does not belong to us. This taking leads to cultural theft and appropriation, spiritual materialism, and the silencing of authentic native voices. Worse, we spread this dysfunction to others, including people of color, through the dominance of Western cultural values.

Read the rest here: Tribes of “Europe” – Why Decolonize?:

RIP Andy Lopez

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Tue, 29 Oct 2013 04:18:00 +0000

Post by Melanie Cervantes.

There is a march tomorrow in Santa Rosa to honor Lopez' life and call for police accountability. Please consider attending!

The Baby Veronica Case IS a Feminist Issue

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Sat, 12 Oct 2013 21:38:00 +0000

"Dusten Brown, a citizen of the Cherokee Nation has been fighting to stop a white couple from South Carolina from taking away his child, Veronica, who is also a citizen of the Cherokee Nation. Because a father is involved in the custody battle, it may appear this is not a feminist issue. However, this case is about more than just these individuals, it is about protecting indigenous nations in general for the wholesale trafficking of Native children and protecting the reproductive autonomy of Indigenous women. Thus, this struggle is a feminist issue.

Indigenous women, who are surviving 521 years of occupation, uphold sovereignty as central to the survival of indigenous communities. But where are the white feminist allies for our little sister Veronica Brown? The current silence is deafening. It is the responsibility of feminists to not only support this struggle but to educate and engage the larger public about why the protection of the Indian Child Welfare Act is critical to the well-being of Indigenous peoples in general and Indigenous women in particular.

This isn’t about just one little girl, or one couple, this case exists within the historical context of thousands of stolen children, familial lines broken, and culture lost because our children were not there to carry it forth. For so many reasons, this case should be of concern to all feminists."

Read the rest at: Some talking points on why the struggle around Baby Veronica is a feminist issue.

after the verdict poem

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Thu, 25 Jul 2013 03:22:00 +0000

Black mother in line in front of me

at McDonald's

after the protest

probably my age

three kids

oldest son maybe 12

he's clearly used to responsibility

he keeps the other two out of trouble

yells at an angry drunk who kicks their bags

his mother turns and asks the woman of color behind us

"what happened over there?"

pointing to the rally spot we just came from

the other woman says

"Zimmerman verdict"

and the mother says, "oh, that was today?"

she does not ask

and the other woman does not tell her

that the verdict was Not Guilty

and I watch her oldest son trying so hard

and I look at his mother's eyes

and I know why she didn't have to ask

19.7.2013

Four Years

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Sat, 11 May 2013 06:41:00 +0000

In a couple days it will be four years since my aunt was murdered. It has been almost four years since I wrote this post. FOUR. YEARS.

Her accused murderer sits in a jail cell awaiting trial. A trial I am quite sure he knows damn well he is unlikely win. For a crime I am quite sure he is still running from, still blaming her for and still refusing to feel any responsibility about.

Four years of limbo, waiting for this thing to finally be over. Four years of waiting for a "justice system" I don't even believe in to do its thing, so I can finally move on. Four years of moving on only to be yanked back every six months to be told there is yet another delay, that he has fired his lawyer again, that he has taken us right to the edge and pulled us back and there's nothing the courts will do about it.

Four years of being reminded how little my aunt's life matters to the state.

To the court system.

To the DA.

And to her murderer.

Four years of knowing the trial won't bring me any closure. Four years of this PROCESS of the trial preventing my closure. Four years of wondering if this time will be different.

Four years of missing my aunt.

Three Mother's Days where I want to just celebrate my mom. My grandmas. My great grandmas. My Ancestors. My mother friends. Three Mother's Days where I pretend that is all I'm doing. Three Mother's Days of hiding the pain searing through me as wounds barely healed are ripped back open.

Four years of watching my family age faster in those four years than we did in the preceding ten.

Myself included.

I found my first grey hair last night. It isn't grey so much as silver. Bright. Shining. Almost glittery. I'm not yet 30 but I don't mind that hair. I think it's beautiful, actually. But it is also, I think, a by-product of that aging. An aging that has happened so quickly. An aging brought on by pain and loss and no closure and the seemingly endless limbo of the USian court system.

Will we get to five? Six? Seven?

Will it ever be over?

Will it even mean anything in the end?

I am a prison abolitionist. I know this system is broken. I know it doesn't work. As surely as I know that if he is not locked up that he will hurt more women. Like all the other women he hurt in the past. But because I am a prison abolitionist, I know there will be no resolution in putting him on trial. Because I am a feminist/anti-racist I have no faith my aunt's life will be treated with respect in that court room. And I have no real faith he will be found guilty of what he did. I have no faith that even such a conviction would mean anything to him. I have no faith that JUSTICE means anything here.

But I stand witness to the process, because it is the last thing I can do for her. I couldn't help her. I couldn't save her. I couldn't even help her cat. And I can't rehabilitate him. I can't make him accept what he's done. I can't make him accountable to us or use the rest of his life trying to make sure other men don't do what he did. All I can do is stand witness. Face him in the only provided framework sanctioned by the state and not let him forget that we know what he did.

And I will do that. For whatever it is worth.

And I will remember her. Often. I will light the candles on my altar for her. I will remember her when the veil is thin and the dead come back to visit us. I will remember her on Mother's Day.

I will try and live the lessons that she taught me.

It's all I can do.

Crisis of Identity: Green Day and Me

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 18:30:00 +0000

I'm not precisely sure why I am choosing to share THIS of all the stuff I have been writing privately over the last year, but I guess something in me wonders if anyone else might be interested or find it useful or just more generally what responses I might get. Like, honestly, this is kinda trivial in a way. Maybe that's why, maybe it's a safer thing to share, sort of. Anyway, whatever, the point is: I went to a Green Day show tonight and it brought to the surface things I have been feeling for a while but did (well, DO) not want to admit to myself.

I am not connecting with Green Day like I used to.

Let me put this in context: Green Day has been my favorite band since I was about ten years old. So for almost two decades now. Their being my favorite band is a huge component of who-I-am and how I understand myself. Their albums have gotten me through (quite literally) the worst times in my life; from coming to terms with my depression and self-hate as an adolescent to coping with my aunt's murder in 2009, and everything in between. Every album has had something important to say about something that was core to my life at the time that I heard it.

Except this latest one.

I mean there are some good songs on it (and just to make it easy I'm talking about Uno, Dos, Tre! as one album), songs that have gone into rotation as some of my favorites. But, with the exception maybe of Stay the Night, none have spoken to me in that way that was unique between me and Green Day's music; songs that talked to me about something I needed to hear before I knew I needed it. Or that said something about myself/my life that I was only just coming to understand. More generally, and more troubling to me, is that this is the first album that has had songs on it I actively dislike and don't want to listen to, EVER. I mean it's only one or two but literally that has never happened before. Even worse, apparently some of the stuff they think is their best on that album, I'm indifferent to at best (like 99 Revolutions). But, generally, I've been purposefully ignoring this and refusing to admit it to myself.

That ended tonight.

I went to the Green Day show tonight in Berkeley. It was good. It was what I have come to expect. It was familiar in a way that I have found comforting in the past.

But it wasn't what their shows usually are for me.

Generally, going to a Green Day show for me is like going to Church (or rather what going to Church should be). I feel super connected to the larger world/life/the gods and dance and sing my heart out like no one is watching (a state of bliss I basically never otherwise achieve). While I had a good time tonight, that feeling did not emerge. Out of 8 shows I have been do over the past 12 years, this is the first time I haven't felt that way. And on reflection that really shook me. Now...maybe this is the case because I did something different this time and went down on the floor and ended up contending with moshpits and almost getting crushed to death for the first half of the show. That context did make the show hard to enjoy at times, although seeing them pretty up close for the first time was worth it.

But also the show was basically the same one that I've been going to since 2004.

I mean obviously there are some differences in song choices... They've had a couple albums come out since then. BUT, largely the format (and many of the songs) have stayed the same. And where that familiarity has been comforting in the past, this time it was...not boring...but less exciting and meaningful than previous. If you listen to Bullet in a Bible you'll basically hear this same show.

Something has changed; I'm just not sure if it's them or it's me.

I felt this when Billie Joe went into rehab too - like that maybe they are becoming cliche old rock stars. Not totally happy with themselves because their brilliance is spent or in hiding because being-a-rock-star is so much work inofitself that how do you find time for your mental health or family or inspiration? And so you just keep doing what you've been doing even though you know deep down it's getting stale. The possibility that this is happening to Green Day quite frankly frightens me. I fear this is part of why I am not connecting with their music as I once did. Along similar lines, while I have been deepening my political understandings, theirs seem to have lost some of the incisiveness of American Idiot (and even 21st Century Breakdown); again 99 Revolutions comes to mind.

And to be PERFECTLY clear, I don't think this is about "selling out;" that whole conversation completely annoys me.

But I do wonder how they may have compromised themselves or lost perspective on who they are and what they do and their place in the universe over the years. And I do wonder how that is effecting their mental health and creativity. And I think some of that can be found in Billie Joe's stint in rehab, or more accurately, the things that led to him getting to that point (according to his recent Rolling Stone interview). But here's the reason I have been running away from even allowing myself to voice any of this in my own head much less aloud:

WHO AM I IF GREEN DAY IS NOT MY FAVORITE BAND???

That might sound completely ABSURD and SILLY but I am very serious. I mean, go back up to my third paragraph where I told you all the things that they have gotten me through. Look at the fucking name I use to blog with. There are certain things that are major pieces not only of my life but in WHO I UNDERSTAND MYSELF TO BE and HOW I come to understand myself. If that ceases to be, if I move away from them, if another band takes their place...does that mean I am becoming someone new? Or has that already happened and I am just playing catch-up here with myself? What will it mean if I no longer have them to rely on?

I know this is going to seem patently ridiculous to some people, but I hope there are others who have had something so important for so long that can relate to what I'm trying to think through here. I'm not expecting to get any answers out of writing or posting this, but it is a marker of...something...that I think is going to be important for my own personal journey over the next...however long.

Review: Doctor Who: The Writer's Tale: The Final Chapter

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Sun, 31 Mar 2013 23:42:00 +0000

Doctor Who: The Writer's Tale: The Final Chapter by Russell T. Davies

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This book is an absolutely fascinating background story of the making of the fourth season/specials of new Doctor Who from showrunner Russell T. Davies. It's told through a series of emails and text messages between Davies and Doctor Who Magazine writer Benjamin Cook.

The exchanges are for the most part incredibly compelling, and I spent more than one night pushing off bedtime so that I could keep reading more. At times I could tell chunks of email between the two had been cut out for length, but for the most part the whole package made sense.

It is a bit of a slog at times, as the book is just huge and detailed (and I wasn't particularly invested in seeing the original screen plays), but the burning desire to know it all just kept me going. There are also a number of truly priceless quotes about writing, it's meaning and Doctor Who under Davies.

I only wish there was more about the third season of Torchwood, as it was my favorite, and the occasional references and small details felt like an immense tease. How did he settle on that overtly political plotline? Did he wrestle at all with the non-consent of Jack's grandson as the vessel to defeat the 456? But ah well, the book is billed as about Doctor Who, not Torchwood, no matter how much I wish it had been about both.

View all my reviews

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Tue, 12 Mar 2013 07:41:00 +0000

watching berkeley and oakland fly by
getting all nostalgic on bart
as it tries to throw me from my seat

listening to tardis rock
and feeling sad
feeling like home is driving me away
feeling the call of the emerald city

calling calling
sparkling with possibility
reminding me of what i've known for years
i'll be homesick no matter where i am

Attention People of Chicago! Check Out Cecelia Rose LaPointe!

noreply@blogger.com (whatsername) — Thu, 17 Jan 2013 20:46:00 +0000