I Will Not Torture You With Fluff Tonight
Tuesday, February 12, 2008

As most of you know, I've been slogging up the giant mountain known as "Computer Animation Learning-Curve" for the past six weeks or so.

But that's not the only reason my blogging has been flimsy lately.

It's that Thumper thing again -- you know -- "If you don't have anything nice to say -- ".

I'm not big on the word "nice", but let's just change that to "additive/expansive".

Recently, I've witnessed some comment-threads that have seared my eyeballs -- name-calling and verbal hack-and-thrash (even among people who might be considered "natural allies") that have given me pause, and set me thinking about the term: Brutality.

Brutality. The ugly child of Hatred.

Hatred. The ugly child of Dissociation.

I honestly believe that the root of all the "-isms" that wreak such havoc in our culture is dissociation.

As primates, we are tribal/troop mammals. When we "associate" with other beings, we tend to think of them as "ours" and join them into a big "us" -- and that association usually leads us to defend, protect, and nurture anything that is considered me/my/mine/us/our/ours.

I hope you won't think I'm being terribly deterministic when I say that I believe that this tendency is hard-wired.

Luckily, I believe that there is another, and even more powerful, drive in us -- something that's wired into us not just at the Family Hominidae level, or as Ordered Primates, or even Class-y Mammals -- but at the Eukaryotic fundament of human-as-living-organism -- and that powerful drive is: Energy Efficiency.

If you think about what makes Homo Sapiens Sapiens really distinctive as an animal, it always seems (to me anyway) to be about the issue of Cooperation -- both the possibly "expansive" types of cooperation (Big Fuck-off Pyramids! International Space Stations! Teh Internets Tubes!) and the not-so-expansive types of cooperation (Xerxes Builds Mile-Long Bridge. Athens Doomed! Super-Delegates to Determine Election! Phelps Clan Pickets Another Funeral!) -- and I believe that, ultimately, humans usually cooperate in response to that pesky energy efficiency thing.

However, in order to cooperate, we have to work through any not-me/you/yours/they/them/theirs which resides at the shank end of our troop-mentality dichotomy. So, we often spend a lot of energy trying to determine the same thing that our immune system wrestles with all day: "Me? or Not Me?"

I believe that, in order for me to brutalize you, I must be convinced that you are not me/my/mine. In any way. I must be convinced that you are not remotely similar to me at any level, and that I could never be like you, and that you are alien and strange and possibly/probably -- very, very dangerous.

The bummer-ish thing about that is this: In order to become convinced of your "not-me-ness" to this extent, I have to also dissociate from the idea that, simply by virtue of your being a human being, you are probably more like me than 99.9999999999....% of the rest of all the matter that exists in the entire Universe.

So that's a lot of energy required for complete dissociation, right there -- and that wanton expenditure of energy pushes hard against our very deeply-ingrained desire, as organic life-forms, to get the MOST amount of energy for the LEAST expenditure of energy.

That's why whack-a-mole comment threads are so tiring sometimes, especially when the topic goes so far afield of the original post that Legolas couldn't track it if you dropped the phrase "leaves of Lothlorien" every third comment.

Yes, sometimes getting OT leads to some very interesting conversation, and leads us to ideas that we would never have imagined discussing -- but when the thread degenerates into --

"Asshole!" brtltrooth||2:14:03 pm
"No, you're the asshole!" snppycmbck||2:14:04 pm

-- well, then it's time for Calgon to take me away.

The threads that seared my baby-blues were not, however, of this simple "I know you are, but what am I" variety -- words and phrases were used that directly attempted to de-humanize the opponent, words like "scum" and "slime" and phrases that called into question the opponents' right to even be alive.

When that shit starts up, I believe we are entering into the realm of brutality. When action and words are used that have no other purpose but to denigrate and degrade the opponent -- I believe that these are used so that we can ultimately justify . . . . destroying them because they are "not me".

My main problem with dissociation (which I believe is a necessary predicate to hatred and brutality), is that, if I can manage to de-humanize you, I generally de-humanize myself in the process -- thus it is that, when hating, we are likely to become the very thing that we hate.

The worst part of all was that this kind of "conversation" was occurring between people who I am almost certain would call themselves "progressive" -- people who would protest that they are not "haters", and who would chafe (or rage) at being compared to the God Hates Fag-ers, or the KKK, or the man who raped me as a four-year-old and managed to dissociate from me so completely that my pain was, to him, completely inconsequential.

Some would argue that these are false equivalences (words in a comment thread and Phelps at a funeral) -- but I believe that the outrageous behavior of truly radical bigots and haters did not simply spring full-blown from the brow of Zeus -- it probably began with something much smaller and more "excusable" for each of them -- stones thrown at the alley-cat -- then derisive names for the passive servant who you know won't confront you -- then a trial slap -- turning into a blow -- turning into a beating.

I believe that any time I can convince myself that any other being "deserves" my brutality -- for any reason -- I am not standing on solid philosophical ground if I want to call myself a human-rights activist, or a progressive.

So I've been skimming threads lately, and Calgoning as needed, and thinking what I wanted to say about all this -- (it's not like I haven't gone there myself in the past, but I don't want to do it ever again).

I don't want to be Fred Phelps.

He's human -- and I don't hate him -- but I don't think he has a "Happy Place".

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:59 PM 2 comments  

Labels: Bad Behavior (Others), Blogging, Progressives, Teh Internet

The Awkward, Gangly Form of Hope
Thursday, December 27, 2007

I wrote, last August, about my perception that certain audacious political acts were a sure sign of desperation in those who want to stymie progressive action in our culture.

Tonight, I commented:

"If I could give one thing to every progressive I know, it would be more confidence in the inevitability of human evolution."

This is not rhetoric for me. It represents my deepest beliefs.

I believe that progressive, expansive attitudes/action -- attitudes and action that lead us to ever-increasing connection with other humans, other beings, our planet, and the Universe that we live in -- are the natural trajectory of our evolutionary path.

I want to bottle that somehow, and give a big dose of it to every human I know.

I've noticed, lately, that many people near my own age have been popping up with the question: "What happened to us? We used to be so idealistic! We were going to change the world!"

I've noticed, lately, that many people older than I have been popping up with the question: "What can I do? I'm old. I'm glad I won't be around to see the fallout from this mess."

I've noticed, lately, that many people younger than I have been popping up with the question: "What can I do? I just have to deal with the crap these other generations have left for me."

I think that, in this culture, we are trained to believe that idealism, optimism, and hopefulness is the bailiwick of the young and the foolish.

I say: Fuck that.

For all progressives out there, regardless of age, who have swallowed the numbing drug of ennui/apathy/disenchantment, I want to say: "Buck up. Don't you recognize the screams of dying dinosaurs when you hear them? "

The people who want to drag us back to previous eras of oppression will not win the next election. They won't. They know it.

Isn't it time we know it?

Isn't it time that we stop acting like an entrenched, embattled minority, and step forward to act with the integrity and idealism that we want our government leaders to embody?

I want to encourage you to nurture your hope, your idealism, and your vision for the way the world can be -- to consciously feed this part of you, every day, as you would nourish a beloved child -- to vote, not for a candidate who is considered "electable", but for a candidate who actually represents your vision.

One of the things that I was painfully aware of during the 2000 and 2004 elections was this: Most progressives weren't really voting "for" anyone -- they were voting "against" someone.

Given what I understand of energy-dynamics, this simply isn't effective -- as the old saying goes: "Fighting for Peace is like Fucking for Birth-Control."

In my lifetime, I've witnessed: JFK's assassination, the Watts Riots, the Vietnam War, Watergate, Reagonomics, a major recession, several stock-market dips that everyone knew would destroy us, the First Gulf War, 9/11, the War in Afghanistan, the War in Iraq, etc., etc., etc..

In my lifetime, I've witnessed the vagaries of many economic and political cycles, and the surge and counter-surge of social movements that have changed the roles of people of color, women, and queers in daily life:

• When I was six months old, the Supreme Court declared that segregation on public buses was unconstitutional. When I was five years old, JFK created the EEOC, but interracial marriage was still illegal in 16 states until I was 11.
  
• When I started High School, all female students at my school were required to wear dresses to school. When I graduated High School, I was wearing patched blue-jeans and leather moccasins that I made myself.
• When I came out to myself as a lesbian, Homosexuality was still listed as a mental illness in the DSM. Today, my alma-mater has an entire section on their website for LGBTQ resources.

I'm trying to say: Things do change. Things have changed.

I believe that they changed because individual human beings had the audacity to remain hopeful, idealistic, and alive -- that they practiced their integrity, and insisted upon their vision, and refused the easy out that is despair.

It doesn't matter how old, or how young, you are. It matters that you remain engaged.

The world that you want to live in is possible.

And if that strikes you as completely idealistic -- sappy -- wev -- then take a big old slug from Portly's Everlasting Jug of Possibility, and give up your fashionable pessimism, already.

The Awkward, Gangly Form of Hope

Hope is a teenager
who never learned to be cool,
or how to slouch with feigned indifference
against the lockers of my heart.

Instead, it drops its books
and stumbles into strangers --
pushes its glasses into place,
and proceeds to class despite all odds.

The popular kids may pass with derisive stares,
with skin-deep beauty that cannot hide their fear.
Hope just keeps gaffing its way along,
unfashionable, clumsy, embarrassingly authentic.
© Carol Steinel 2007

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:20 PM 2 comments  

Labels: Dying Dinosaurs, Hope, Politics, Progressives

Are You My Ally?
Saturday, August 18, 2007

In the past couple of weeks, I've noticed that, during my blog-reading adventures, I've felt a little tiny twinge everytime I read something like: "This is particularly hard, coming from one of our own", or "it's especially difficult to take this from someone on my own team".

I actually like the word "ally". I've used it as a relational category for people that I wouldn't probably want to get all buddy-buddy with, but with whom I do acknowledge a certain idealogical or principalic connection.

Recently, though, I've been noticing that recurring twinge, and as I've examined it, I've wondered if it may have to do with the combative/competitive/separative connotations of the word "ally" that are evoked in me by these statements ("one of our own"/"on my team" -- which implies that there is someone who is not "one of us", or that we are on a team, playing a game, which means that someone wins, and someone loses).

I notice that I don't have this twinge when I think of the less war-like definitions of "ally": an associate who provides cooperation or assistance.

In my life, I've found "allies" in odd places -- sometimes where I least expect it.

There was the long rambling discussion that I had on a train with a Mormon mother of 8 who told me that, although she was often conflicted about the subject of homosexuality from a spiritual basis, she strongly opposed any government action that oppressed gays or kept equal rights from them, because, as she said: "They could decide to do the same thing to Mormons".

There was the dinner-table conversation with my entire FOO (family of origin) where my fundamentalist brother-in-law and I found ourselves on the same side of an argument about home-schooling.

There have been people that I hated to say I agreed with when they made a cogent point, but I believe that intellectual and personal integrity requires that I acknowledge this when it happens.

I've known burly he-men who were more actively "feminist" than I was, and straight people who were way less willing than I to let a homophobic comment slide.

Conversely, I've experienced situations where I discovered that people who I thought should be my "natural allies" were not. I've heard grossly anti-feminist sentiment from radical lesbians, been on the receiving end of inflammatory and violent actions from self-identified peace activists, and been given lectures rife with capitalist dogma by avowed socialists.

So, who is my "ally"?

In my 30s and into my mid-40s, I interacted almost exclusively with lesbians (outside of my work). This was my culture, my community, and my environment.

For the last 10 years, my life has been very different, and my culture, community, and environment are far more diverse. Of those who I consider as being within my closest and most intimate circle, these individuals now span a wide range of orientations, ages, classes, spiritual approaches, nationalities, and races.

I consider these people my "friends", but not all of them are my "allies" in certain areas. One of my close friends spouts fat-phobic remarks (about herself usually, but never about me) on a regular basis. One of my close friends believes that the work I do for a living is blasphemy when regarded from his spiritual perspective. I love these people, and spend time with them whenever I can. So, I assume that in my mind, "ally-ship" is not a requirement for "friendship". Which confuses me sometimes.

I wonder if this separation between my concepts of "ally" and "friend" represents some idealogical schism in me. Do I hold my "political/activist" self as a separate being from my personal/social self? Is that necessary? Is it healthy? Does it support integrity in me?

I began this post with a question, and thought I might actually be able to answer it -- but now I seem to have simply manifested a bouquet of additional questions. (I hate it when that happens.)

I'd simply return to the definition of ally that I like: "an associate who provides cooperation or assistance" -- but this, too, seems like a garden of questions -- What is "cooperation"? "Assistance" with what?

I'm now realizing that I ask myself these questions every time I interact with someone who I think might be a potential ally. Someone posts about a subject that I feel passionate about, and I search their writing for evidence that they are "on my side" , or that I agree with them, or that their voice might be adequate to speak what I might have said. If there are little nuances to their words that create an eddy of disturbance in me, I notice that I calculate whether it's worth it to point this out, or whether it's more important to just support my ally for the bulk and intent of their piece (I'm not saying this is a good thing, just that I notice that I do it).

I think, though, that the "twinges" I've been feeling about this whole ally thing really have to do with this: I am aware, lately, of feeling less and less like someone who is engaged in a rational discussion in my nation, and more and more like someone who is in an embattled position. I notice that I don't even bother to comment at right-wing sites at this point. I bear the assumption that my very handle (PortlyDyke) will result in automatic dismissal, if not downright harassment.

I'm disturbed by the growing separation that I perceive in the USA, the "Us" and "Them" constructs that I find creeping into my own language. I'm disturbed by the fact that I watched the Republican debates only to see how outrageous the candidates might be, rather than in any remote belief that one of them might say something substantive, and the fact that I watched the Logo debates to see if any of the Dems were about to grow a spinal column on gay rights -- one of "my" issues.

I'm disturbed by how many times I've read (or typed) the words *running for cover* in comments and forums that I think of as being populated mostly with "allies".

So, I think it's time I got clear on what (or who) constitutes an "ally" for me.

Here's what I've got so far:

1. I tend to feel "allied" with people who can imagine the circumstance or situation of others, and make some attempt to take that into account as they communicate.
   
2. I tend to feel "allied" with people who passionately embrace and communicate about their own personal experience while acknowledging that the experience of others might be equally valid. (Shorter PortlyDyke for 1 & 2: I value the ability to engage in compassionate accountability.)
3. I tend to feel "allied" with people who take responsibility for their words and actions.

Some lessons I have learned about "Allies" in my short time on Earth (51 years is NOT a long time, I have discovered -- I feel like I'm just getting started).

1. Just because someone decides to "let you be" for the moment doesn't necessarily mean they are an ally. Many gay bars existed prior to Stonewall -- the politicians, policemen, and others who ignored them (until they didn't ignore them) were not gay rights allies. When you become inconvenient to them, a person/organization/structure that is not an ally will have no problem throwing you under a bus.
   
2. Just because someone decides to side with you for the moment doesn't necessarily mean they are an ally. Bill Clinton made masterful use of his "pro-gay rights" stance -- until his campaign was over. Yes, he did a lot of nice things like appoint gay people to his cabinet, and I think that probably did assist the gay rights movement. But I still don't trust him as far as I can throw him.
   

That's all I know so far. I'm going to be thinking (and reading, and watching) this whole sticky issue of "allies" from now on. Especially when I feel that twinge.

So, I suppose the real question that I might pose to others is:

Do you want to be my ally?

Posted byPortlyDyke at 12:25 AM 4 comments  

Labels: Allies, Homophobia, Progressives, Racism, Sexism

TTDT -- The Final Day of the 30-day Angst Loss Challenge
Monday, August 6, 2007

Yes, my compatriots, it's been 30 days, and I have one last Portly Thing to Do Today for you -- check the list below, and see if one of your House or Senate Representatives is on it -- if they are, send them one ass-whupping letter about how pissed off you are about their gutless betrayal of the Constitution.

I'm going to go on a bit before I give you the list, just to give you a reminder of how completely possible it was for Congress not to pass the "Protect America Act". In the Senate, it needed a 3/5 vote to pass, and if the 30%!!! of elected Democratic senators who voted "yea" for this bill had remembered their constitutional oath and voted "nay", it would not have passed. Do you get that? But since such liberal luminaries as Feinstein and Inouye said "Fine Mr. President, have whatever you want", we now live in a country where warrantless wire-tapping of citizens is not only legal, but part of a plan to "protect" us.

If 17% of elected Democratic House Reps hadn't copped out, it wouldn't have passed in the House, either.

I think I explained a couple of weeks ago about why I don't give a lot of head-space to "politics" -- today only validated, for me, that this is a wise choice. Still, since the Congressional debacle has occupied so much space in my head for the past two days, I am going to be as good as my word and DO something. I'm going to write Patty Murray (one of my senators) and ask her why the fuck she didn't even bother to vote on this bill (the same question could be put to John Kerry and Barbara Boxer, by the way).

So, here's the list (by state)-- check and see if any of your representatives are now members of the "Bend Over, Citizen" Club. If they are, send them a diatribe (or three, or five).

"Democrats" in the House who voted Yea to "protect" America

Cramer (D - AL)
Davis (D-AL)
Ross (D- AR)
Snyder (D-AR)
Mitchell (D- AZ)
Costa (D-CA)
Salazar (D-CO)
Boyd (D-FL)
Barrow (D- GA)
Marshall (D-GA)
Boswell (D-IA)
Bean (D-IL)
Lipinski (D-IL)
Donnelly (D- IN)
Ellsworth (D-IN)
Hill (D-IN)
Chandler (D-KY)
Melancon (D-LA)
Peterson (D-MN)
Walz (D-MN)
Taylor (D-MS)
Etheridge (D-NC)
McIntyre (D-NC)
Shuler (D-NC)
Pomeroy (D-ND)
Higgins(D-NY)
Space (D-OH)
Wilson (D-OH)
Boren (D-OK)
Altmire (D-PA)
Carney (D-PA)
Herseth (D-SD)
Cooper (D-TN)
Davis (D-TN)
Gordon (D-TN)
Tanner (D-TN)
Cuellar (D-TX)
Edwards (D-TX)
Lampson (D-TX)
Rodriguez (D-TX)
Matheson (D-UT)

"Democrats" who voted Yea in the Senate to "protect" America

Lincoln (D-AR)
Pryor (D-AR)
Feinstein (D-CA)
Salazar (D-CO)
Carper (D-DE)
Nelson (D-FL)
Inouye (D-HI)
Bayh (D-IN)
Landrieu (D-LA)
Mikulski (D-MD)
Klobuchar (D-MN)
McCaskill (D-MO)
Conrad (D-ND)
Nelson (D-NE)
Casey (D-PA)
Webb (D-VA)

For more information on the voting record, including those who just couldn't find the time to vote on this bill (cause it's so trivial and all) -- see HERE.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 11:30 PM 4 comments  

Labels: angst-Loss, Politics, Progressives

Privilege -- Your Own Silent Super-Hero
Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Privilege.

If you're reading this on the internet, chances are you have it, in some respect.

Your privilege may be based on your (perceived) skin color, sexual orientation, class-status, gender, wealth, nationality, or a myriad of other factors. Your privilege may be based on your actual race, creed, or color -- or on your gender, cultural placement, or the happy "accident" of your country of birth.

The problem is that, until you actually interact with people who don't share your privilege-basis, any privileged status you may hold may be completely invisible to you.

Think of it as your own stealthy, invisible super-hero. By virtue of something you don't even notice, you may possess powers that other humans lust after, work for, attempt to purchase, or cannot even imagine.

Today I was reading a post at Shakespeare's Sister. Melissa McEwan closed the post with the line: "That's the difference between being a man and a woman. That's privilege."

I was amazed to find, in some of the comments to the post, that commenters that I usually find astute, aware, and intelligent actually seemed surprised by the findings cited in the study that spurred the post (yes, yes -- the post was about women and sexual harassment/assault -- one of "my" issues -- but lest you think I'm just being all whack-a-doodle feminista here, please try to stay focused -- my subject is "Privilege"). I was very disheartened that some of them seemed shocked to find that they possessed privilege that other people did not share.

I possess privilege. I'm white. I live in the USA. I am a university graduate.

And -- it took me a long time to understand that my foot-steps were constantly dogged by my unacknowledged privilege.

I was down-trodden, dontcha know! -- I was, after all, a lesbian, a woman, raised working-class -- there was always someone "above and beyond" me who was keeping me down. It was easy to focus on "Them" -- those privileged, lucky bastards/bitches -- rather than take a look at the ways in which I, simply by the seeming serendipity of my skin color or nationality, might also be unconsciously utilizing my privilege, or filtering experience through it -- and, consequently, playing deaf, dumb, and blind to the fact that my privilege exists, and that I rely on it every day to pave a smoother way for me in life.

There it is (my privilege) in that last sentence -- see? -- I can say "deaf, dumb, and blind" and pretend that this is just "an accepted phrase", and that everyone, including people who are actually deaf/hard-of-hearing, or dumb/speech-impeded, or blind/sight-impaired will "get" what I'm saying, and that I mean no offense. In truth, I mean no offense -- but this does not erase my privilege as a person who still possesses "normal" hearing in both ears, "normal" speech abilities, and "normal" sight.

So it is that one of my staunchest male allies might not have any idea that I deal with misogyny every day, --that, portly and dyke-ly as I may be at this point (which ostensibly would make me "unattractive" and "sexually undesirable"), I still board a bus with a sense of being "prepared" for possible harassment in a way that my ally does not.

So it is that I, a confirmed liberal, civil-rights advocate, and activist, might not have any real idea of what my liberal/advocate/activist sister or brother (whose skin color doesn't qualify them as "white") face as they do something as mundane as shopping in the grocery store of a small, mostly-white rural town (or a suburban "Whole Foods", for that matter).

This post was not just stimulated by a single read-of-the-day for me. It was augmented by reports that there is now a "dress-code" for White House touring groups, which prohibits, amongst other things, dreaded "sneakers", tank-tops, and mini-skirts (which we all know are a danger to our nation, right?), that anti-abortion activist haven't actually thought about what would happen to the women who have abortions if abortion were illegal, and that a huge number of politicians seem to think that they do not have to maintain any ethical standards, so we need to spend time and money legislating on that.

All of these reports, to me, reek of privilege, privilege, and more privilege. I'm going to stay with these "little" stories -- at this point, I don't even want to begin to touch on the effects of privilege on the incredibly dissociative and destructive wars that our privileged nation is carrying out or facilitating around the world.

I'll take what I think is the most mundane example: The White House Dress Code.

I honestly think that many people in my country -- the good old USofA -- land of opportunity -- could easily dismiss the dress code story as something insignificant. I think that many would simply say: "Well, big deal -- so you can't wear jeans to the White House? So, just dress up! Everyone has a pair of dress shoes and a pair of pants that aren't jeans."

Well, actually -- No.

There are real people in this country who own one pair of shoes. Many of them are poor children of poor working parents. When your choice at the thrift-store is between tough sneakers or jeans that are going to be daily wear until your kids outgrow them or dress shoes and pants that they're going to wear just in case they get invited to the White House, what do you think you would choose?

Yet being faced with this kind of choice is something that many, many, many people in our culture can't even imagine.

That's privilege.

It's the "can't even imagine" part that gives the hushed hero of privilege so much energy.

I can't imagine the oppression that I don't face. I can only ask people who endure that oppression about their experiences, and listen to their answers. Which means that I have to get up close with them, and open my fucking ears, rather than argue with them, or compare their situation with mine, or the situation of someone I know, or expound on some thesis or theory that makes me feel better as a person of privilege.

It's not always been easy for me -- because I wasn't able to see that damnable transparent crusader until someone pointed it out to me, and even then, I kicked and screamed and flailed and thrashed -- because I WAS AN ALLY, DAMMIT!

A long time ago, I asked a black friend what she thought was the best way for me to deal with my inculturated racism. She said: "This isn't just about racism. It's about everything-ism -- invite people who are different from you into your life -- not just invite them to dinner, or a party -- have them in your life, and be in their lives. If you want to deal with your racism, hon, there's one real quick way to do that -- hang around in real time with people of color often enough that you get called "n-lover" at least three times in public. You're going to see that your white privilege can be stripped from you mighty quick if you really involve yourself with people who are not white."

She then laughed and said: "When I started hanging out with you long enough that someone accused me of being a dyke, I knew I was starting to work some shit out."

IMO, there's only one way to fire your silent super-hero -- move into places and spaces where he shows up for you -- so that you can turn to that slippery mother-fucker, and say: "Look -- I realize you've protected me, and helped me down the line sometimes, but I really don't want your help anymore."

Of course, you can't fire someone you can't see. So start looking.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 1:00 AM 6 comments  

Labels: Homophobia, Privilege, Progressives, Racism, Sexism

TTDT -- Be Prepared to Speak Your Truth
Wednesday, July 18, 2007

I think we've all had the experience. Someone -- perhaps someone we know, love, or expect something different from -- says something, right in front of us, that we find so offensive, ignorant, discriminatory, and/or demeaning-- that we are absolutely flabbergasted.

Example: My mother (the woman who used to be all liberal and shit -- who taught me that racism was a really bad thing) says to me, during a phone call, of the Somalian refugees who are now living in her small town: "Well, they all look alike you know!"

Example: My co-workers, who work every day with my white boss (who happens to be married to a black man), and seem to love and respect her, wait until she, and every person of color, is out of the room before they exclaim over the picture of her new daughter: "Oh, thank goodness -- she's so light!"

These are only two of many (personally-experienced) examples -- examples of speech that I recognized, in the moment, as absolutely, positively, unvarnished racism-in-action.

When I heard these statements, I didn't wonder in my head (as I often do, when I receive or overhear a fat-phobic or homophobic comment, however overt) -- "Am I just being sensitive because this is 'my' issue?" I knew immediately that these comments were offensive, ignorant, discriminatory and demeaning.

Yet, in both of the examples above, I was utterly flummoxed at the moment. I did not make an immediate response. I did not speak my truth in the moment, and I lived with regret about that afterward, stewing for days and days about what I should have done in the moment, regardless of what action I took later.

In the first example with my mom, at that moment, I remember that I stammered -- my dad, lingering on the extension phone, jumped in for a quick recovery, changed the subject, and ended the phone call within the next 60 seconds.

In the second example with my co-workers, my jaw actually dropped -- I simply stared, speechless, at them over the picture of this beautiful child, and before I could think of what to say, they had already slunk away to their respective work-stations, and left me standing alone in the break-room.

In both of these encounters, and in many others -- like "Joe" (Vs. the Volcano), as he quits his "job" -- I found my mind whirling around this phrase:

"I should say something."

In truth, however, at each of these moments, I had no idea what to say. While I tried to catch my breath, my brain was, no doubt, busy calculating the risks of possible confrontation, the likelihood of effecting change in the situation, and the emotional and energetic cost of engaging with someone who could say "something like that" while I was a) totally pissed off/triggered, b) uncertain whether I ever wanted to talk to them again, and c) totally pissed off/triggered.

Would I/Should I? --

1. Launch into an educational diatribe about the heinous results of racism, whether intentional and practiced, or unconscious and entertained?
2. Simply say, in measured tones: "I can't believe you just said that," and stalk away, clothed in my outrage, hoping that they would understand what had offended me?
3. Raise my voice to match the intensity of my emotional response and emphatically state: "That is a racist comment, and I won't stand for it!" and hope that someone might actually have the guts to meet me in the crucible where my personal activation was swirling with a global human issue?
4. Shout with all my might: "You fucking hypocritical turd(s)!", and refuse to deal with them until they apologized?

I've actually done all of those things, in other situations. I haven't found them to be tremendously successful in effecting the change I want to make in the world.

Here are two of the most effective consciousness-changing actions I've ever taken (the first of which I wouldn't have even thought about if I hadn't answered a QOD at Shakesville the other night):

Action #1: Dark theater, 1995. Showing of "Higher Learning" in a cinema located in a well-known liberal west coast city. Audience of 200 or more, mostly urban, well-educated folk.

The movie is all about oppression, and the audience seems to be following along, getting the gist of it all -- until, HORRORS! -- there's a (minuscule -- like maybe three seconds, tops) lesbian kissing scene-- at which groans, retching noises, and choruses of "oh gross!" break out in the theater. I am stunned for a moment.
I can't believe what I'm hearing.

Then, somehow, without thinking, I say, calmly, in a voice just loud enough to be heard throughout the theater: "I'm a lesbian." The place goes dead fucking silent.

The woman next to me fidgets throughout the rest of the movie, but the woman who is in a seat two rows in front of me sits through the credits, as I do, and when the theater is all but empty, and I am leaving, she touches my arm, and asks: "Was it you who said that?" -- "Yes," I answer (after looking around to see who might be waiting to beat the crap out of me).

"Thank you for saying that," she says.

Action #2: I am leaving my brother's second wedding with my mom and dad. They are taking me to the airport. It's a long drive.

On the way, parental units are ripping my new sister-in-law a new asshole. I have no idea why, really.

I suspect they're really mad at my brother, for ruining the "no-divorce" streak that our branch of the family had maintained for a couple of generations, but they're ripping on the new wife, not my brother. I first engage in an educational manner, trying to appeal to "reason" -- but they're having none of it.

Finally, I said: "You know, when I hear you talk like this, I wonder what you say about me, when I'm not here."

Then there is a long, uncomfortable silence, which does not seem to portend any great shift of consciousness.

A year later, my dad takes me aside, and tells me that he remembered what I said, and has thought (and acted) differently about gossiping or complaining about people in the family, ever since.

The commonality in these two actions, I believe, was my willingness to be vulnerable in the moment.

I usually find it much easier to speak up and out on behalf of others -- to protest and confront racism, trans-phobia, hetero-phobia, religious intolerance for religions that are not my own, etc., etc. -- than it is for me to directly confront fat-phobia, homo-phobia, or misogyny, or any of the "isms" that are focused at me directly.

I think this has to do with the fact that I have a suspicion/understanding that it is actually possible for me to see things and hear things through a very subjective filter that may, or may not, provide me with an accurate view of what has just happened. (Shorter Portly Dyke: I don't trust myself.)

I spent several decades of my life perpetually pissed off -- not without reason, mind you -- but, in retrospect, I believe that there was a period during I was actually addicted to my anger -- I became more loyal to my rage than to my reason, and more attached to my identity as an oppressed person/victim than to my desire or motivation to effect change.

So, now, I keep a sharp eye on my RighteousWrath-O-Meter, especially when responding to issues that strike close to the bone for me.

I don't have judgment about feeling mad -- I think that the energy of this emotion can be (and wants to be) transformed into action very effectively. I believe that feeling "pissed off" is telling me something (but probably nothing that feeling "slightly irritated" wasn't telling me, long before I registered being pissed off).

However, I haven't found pedantic lectures, icey walk-outs, or incendiary spews to be necessarily effective.

The one thing that I have actually found to be effective is: My truth. How I feel in the moment.

I wish now that, when my mom had said that, I had responded immediately with: "Mom. I feel sad and mad when I hear you saying that. It doesn't seem to fit for me with what I've heard you say about judging people by their skin color." (Because that's what I thought when I heard it.)

I wish now, that, when my co-workers said what they did, I had responded immediately with: "I feel very bad, and very sad right now. I have the sense that I've just been included in a 'whites only' conversation, and I don't want to be a part of that. I feel scared to even say this, because I think that if I say it, you'll start treating me like you just treated our boss -- waiting for me to leave the room to say what you really think."

This post was inspired by two things:

1. Thorn's posts at Shapely Prose. Reading her story, with all the "messy" vulnerable feelings included, brought me closer to her experience, and helped me to commit again to speaking up in the moment when I witness or experience oppression.
2. An experience that I had recently, where the power of telling a personal story of my own, and including the emotional content, without trying to look all "cool", shifted a conversation/conflict dramatically.
   

So here's the TTDT:

Be prepared to speak your truth -- not "the" truth, and not some "prepared statement". Your truth, in the moment.

Be smart, witty, whatever you will -- but also -- Remember to tell people how you feel -- describe your emotions and experience -- not just the feeling of being mad/angry/rage-full, but also the sadness, the feeling of being scared to speak up, the fear of being "thrown out" or discounted, or simply the dissonant twang that arises when something has been said and you haven't yet figured out, intellectually, what exactly is bugging you about it.

You may be thinking: "Well, they don't care how I feel -- if they did, they wouldn't say what they said!"

Just try it. Try a bit of vulnerability. Sure, they may go for your throat. But hell, if they're as bad as you are projecting them to be, they're going for your throat anyway.

I'm going to be working with this through the next week.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 10:35 PM 5 comments  

Labels: angst-Loss, Fat, Homophobia, Politics, Progressives, Racism, Truth

TTDT - Teach Your ISP How To Sew Up Its Market Share
Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Stay with me here -- This is a follow-up to my post on July 5th about net neutrality
If you don't understand what a TTDT is -- read HERE.

I was going to give myself (and you) a break and simply post a "Holy Grail" video, but there are only 3 days left before FCC comments close, and I got all, you know, activist, and shit . . . .

Portly Things to Do Today Option #1:

Comments to the FCC on net neutrality close this Friday, the 13th (Isn't that a great date? In my witchy little heart, I decree it lucky for net neutrality, unlucky for those who oppose it.). If you haven't done so already --
Go to www.savetheinternet.com and post your comments to the FCC about why you believe that net neutrality must be preserved.

Portly Things To Do Today Option #2:

Write a letter -- yes, a real letter (and send an email) to your ISP, telling them how they can secure their future market share (read below) by becoming the first ISP to declare that they will insure net neutrality for their customers -- I've included links to corporate info about various high-speed ISPs at the bottom of this post -- if none of these is yours, go to Hoover Profiles at Answers.com to find your ISP's corporate address and info -- and here's a template, based on the letter that I sent my ISP:
========================
Dear [ISP CEO]

I've used your ISP services for the last [insert # of years]. I would like to continue using the service that I currently purchase from you, but I have concerns about net neutrality, and whether your company will make a commitment to my rights as a customer.

I purchase service from you so that I can enjoy the wide range of content currently available on the internet. I do not want you to decide for me what I can download quickly, by implementing for-pay "fast lanes" that would prevent me from having equal access to the sites I want to see.

I urge you to take an evolutionary step -- to become the first ISP in the nation to adopt a policy insuring that consumers will be able to access what they want, when they want it, at the connection speed that they are paying for. I believe that there are thousands of internet users who would prefer your service if you provided such an assurance.

I currently have [number of different] high-speed ISP options available in my area. In the future, I will choose my Internet Service Provider based on which provider assures my full access to the entire internet. I will be sending this letter to my friends and business contacts and encouraging them to make their ISP choices based on which company makes a real and tangible commitment (via written policies) to the concept which is now commonly referred to as "net neutrality".

I believe that the first company that makes such a commitment will obtain a substantial lead in costumer loyalty and brand reputation.

This is a claim that I think any ISP could crow about proudly "Our Service -- Your Choice".

If any ISP in my area takes action to assure net neutrality, I will move my service to them immediately, even if it means paying more money. I want to know that my ISP is dedicated to bringing me the freedom of expression and choice that I want in my internet experience.

Sincerely,
[Your Name]
============================
Feel free to copy and paste to your heart's delight, and if you choose to write something different, remember this salient point:

• The first ISP that commits to net neutrality in a "real" way (written policies, public announcement) will, I believe, obtain a huge customer base. It won't matter if other companies "pile on" -- they will still be able to say "We were the first. Aren't we great?"
  

Here's info about who to write to, depending on your ISP -- if none of these is yours, go to Hoover Profiles at Answers.com to find your ISP's corporate address and info.

Millenium Digital Media Chairman and Chief Strategic Officer: Kelvin R. Westbrook President and CEO: William J. (Bill) Shreffler SVP and Chief Marketing Officer: Rudy Tober Millennium Digital Media 120 S. Central Ave., Ste. 150 Clayton, MO 63105 MO Tel. 314-802-2400 Fax 314-802-2300

Comcast
Chairman and CEO: Brian L. Roberts
EVP and COO; President, Comcast
Cable: Stephen B. (Steve) Burke
EVP, Co-CFO, and Treasurer: John R. Alchin

Comcast Corporation
1500 Market St.
Philadelphia, PA 19102-2148
PA Tel. 215-665-1700
Fax 215-981-7790

DirectTV
Chairman: K. Rupert Murdoch
President, CEO, and Director: Chase Carey
EVP and CFO: Michael W. Palkovic

The DIRECTV Group, Inc.
2230 East Imperial Hwy.
El Segundo, CA 90245
CA Tel. 310-964-5000
Fax 310-535-5225

Time Warner Cable
Chairman: Don Logan
President, CEO, and Director: Glenn A. Britt
COO: Landel C. Hobbs

Time Warner Cable Inc.
290 Harbor Dr.
Stamford, CT 06902-7441
CT Tel. 203-328-0600
Fax 203-328-0690

QWEST
Chairman and CEO: Richard C. (Dick) Notebaert
EVP Operations: Barry K. Allen
EVP Mass Markets Group: Paula Kruger

Qwest Communications International Inc.
1801 California St.
Denver, CO 80202
CO Tel. 303-992-1400
Toll Free 800-899-7780
Fax 303-992-1724

AT&T
Chairman and CEO: Randall L. Stephenson
SEVP and CFO: Richard G. (Rick) Lindner
SEVP Executive Operations: James W. (Jim) Callaway

AT&T Inc.
175 E. Houston
San Antonio, TX 78205-2233
TX Tel. 210-821-4105
Fax 210-351-2071

VERIZON
Chairman and CEO: Ivan G. Seidenberg
President and COO: Dennis F. (Denny) Strigl
EVP and CFO: Doreen A. Toben

Verizon Communications Inc.
140 West St.
New York, NY 10007
NY Tel. 212-395-1000
Toll Free 800-621-9900
Fax 212-571-1897

Note for those who have taken the 30-day Angst-Loss Challenge. Performing both options DOES increase your cred.

Carry On.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 1:10 PM 2 comments  

Labels: angst-Loss, Politics, Progressives, Teh Internet

Take the 30-Day Angst-Loss Challenge
Sunday, July 8, 2007

I've actually been thinking about this for a while. I love reading blogs. I have, in the past, daily gotten my panties in a wad, unwad-ed them, read again, wad-ed again.

And . . . .

I have profound questions about what is actually accomplished by all these knotted knickers. I want to be informed, but I don't want to just piss and moan.

It's fun, I admit it -- to commiserate with cronies, work myself into a righteous wrath, allow my wit-demons to take over . . . . . but what does that actually change?

So, I invite you to join me in "The Portly Dyke 30-Day Angst-Loss Challenge".

For the next 30 days, I'm not going to post (or comment) about anything, unless I also take some form of action on the issue that has got my undies in a bunch.

If I post here, and I'm complaining/bitching/moaning/pissing/ranting, I will include a link at the bottom of the post which leads to an action that I will, myself, have already taken (writing congress, donating money to a cause, etc), and I will encourage those who join me in the 30-Day challenge to take this action, too, or to report, in comments, another action that they have taken.

If I post here, and I'm celebrating/loving-up/rejoicing over something (a video I loved, a post that changed my mind, etc.), I will include a link at the bottom of the post which leads to an action that I will, myself, have already taken (sending an email of congratulations/appreciation, donating money to a cause, etc), and I will encourage those who join me in the 30-Day challenge to take this action, too, or to report, in comments, another action that they have taken.

My suggested actions will (nearly always) be tangible and direct. They will (nearly always) NOT be ambiguous suggestions like: "Love someone today!". My goal is to suggest real actions that require 15 minutes or less of the reader's time to complete. I pledge to help out by doing research that leads people to links that are swift, sure, and effective.

In future, such post titles will probably begin with, or include, the acronym "TTDT" (Things To Do Today). Any posts I create that are simple personal musings/revelations will probably not include this acronym.

I'm just so sick of complaint, and pissing, and moaning (especially my own). Sure, it's fun for a while, but it tends to leave me feeling hollowed out and empty, like bad porn.

I really do believe in the power of collective consciousness. I believe that, if we use our voices, words, and energy for change, change will occur.

I refuse to succumb to the whining passivity of victimhood. If the shit hits the fan, I want to know that I did everything that I could to move the fan, compost the shit, and raise my awareness of the power inherent in my own Being-ness.

Step One in joining me is this:

Post a comment here stating that you accept "Portly Dyke's 30-Day Angst-Loss Challenge".

Step Two:

Bitch, rant, piss and moan away -- AND take a direct action on the thing that's chapped your ass.

Today's TTDT?

Accept this Challenge.

That is all.

Posted byPortlyDyke at 1:00 PM 10 comments  

Labels: angst-Loss, Politics, Progressives