THE TINTED VENT

George Junius Stinney Jr.: Why "White-Wash" History of Child Execution?

2011-10-01T02:42:00.008-04:00

In this blog post about the murder...

Aside: I say murder because a 14 year old Black boy found guilty and sentenced to death in one day by a court house full of White male jurors, all White spectators, and a White Judge in 1944 rural South Carolina is murder

...of George Junius Stinney Jr., I became horrified by the desire of the blogger to declare the system just despite all of the glaring evidence to the contrary easily discoverable on the internet with regards to this child's case. I had to post a response, especially as more may come to light about this case as a man in South Carolina fights to clear the child's name if only to bring to light our country's history of allowing the state to put children as young as 10 and 12 into electric chairs and hangman's nooses.

His entire blog post was filled to overflowing with ambiguous, ahistorical, and terrifyingly bad assessments of both the child's guilt and the course of events surrounding his ultimate execution. But it was his closing with the below statement that forced me to post some sort of response:

"However, nothing illegal was done during the investigation and prosecution of the case. All the procedures utilized by the police, courts, prosecution and prison system conform to the existing standards and legal requirements of the time and place."

And this was my response, we'll see if he allows it to show up on his blog:

What is at stake for you in making this ludicrous and patently false claim with regards to this child murdered by his own government? Why the insistence on his guilt and the right behavior of those who conspired to kill the boy?

To interrogate a child who just happened to be seen somewhere near where two girls were killed without anyone else there should horrify you! How difficult would it have been to intimidate a 14 year old boy in a time where even he knew that his life was worth less than nothing to those harassing him into confession? I saw a freakin' DiscoveryID show a few months ago where a fine upstanding White man from the midwest confessed to killing his own child when the cops interrogated him for 20hours - then a lawyer, DNA evidence, and his wife's support proved him completely innocent! The look in his eyes as he explained what it was like in that tiny room with those cops will haunt me forever. And that was a White man in 2000s America! This was a Black child in 1940's America.

What is your motive here? Because instead of honesty, compassion, and reality (because for some reason you need to believe race played no role and this child was not assassinated) this story compels you to defend a system which has many, many instances in even our current day and age of people (of all races!) railroaded by police and imprisoned or put to death when they were really innocent. This country has often made victims of innocents due to a system where, once the police decide you are guilty, you can forget any chance of reprieve unless you have the money to buy proper evidentiary procedure.

As a teacher, as a woman, as a human being, I am unable to adequately express my distress, sadness, and terror at the thought that after casually googling this poor child's name, I come across a blog that holds our history and this child's life so cheaply as to proclaim what happened to him just.

The Only appropriate, sustainable Path our country can take is to Own and Accept our history in all of its horror and ugliness and use it as a guide to avoid replicating the same mistakes and abuses of the gift of life and location. This begins with avoiding the desire to make history nice and ignore the incomprehensibly terrifying fact that seemingly nice people killed a child because they could not look at him and see a child and a human, but only their own fear, prejudice and hatred.

Please, henceforth if you discuss this type of situation as "fair," and make pleas on behalf of the "differing social mores" of our past, remember that those "different" mores do not make the actions produced any less worthy of condemnation! Injustice of this kind, just because it's in a "different time" is no less deserving of the full extent our of horrified disavowal of this thinking. Human life should never be so casually written off that this is called fair or acceptable.

College Women Use Sex Work to Pay For School, People Use it to Judge Them Harshly

2011-08-01T17:17:00.003-04:00

In this Huffington Post article about women, and some men, entering sex work to pay off student loan debt, a lot of the commenters are engaging in uber-judgmental and harsh commentary. So this is my response to one comment that seemed tone deaf and ill-advised at best.

"HHGodd: How is your credit more important than your dignity and self respect? Whatever happens to them they deserve it."

Ouch. Your above comment feels a little apathetically judgmental.

And since when has society/popular culture in America/the West celebrated or encouraged women to have/maintain dignity, self-respect, positive body image, or any other attitude that would have lead to a different sort of social outcome?

Women are mocked in comedy as not begin funny, mocked in sports as not being as able or as fun to watch, mocked in science as not being as bright (heck, that transgender Harvard prof said the major difference between being a woman versus a man is that as a man she is allowed to finish a sentence without interruption), mocked as being too emotional...

Women are mocked for all sorts of reasons beyond what I have mentioned here and which contribute to women being seen as objects. Objects of ridicule and sexual objects.

So not only is saying these women deserve some unmentioned but presumably horrible outcome a nasty and despicable thing to say, its also stated without consideration for the fact that one can only do what one's society has taught you to do, and wishing harm on other people is part of that culture too.

An Ode To Travel

2011-07-22T04:19:00.002-04:00

Some folks were complaining over at NYMag on a post about a woman who doesn't know how to pack to fly in America about traveling being too consumery and there's no need for it. But that seems crazy to me as a reason not to see the world! So I had to post a response.
Why travel?

If you have ever seen Oahu sea turtles nesting on a beach that a seal just left in a "bad neighborhood" that still manages to have breathtaking natural beauty...
if you have ever seen whales breaching in the waters off Maui...
if you've ever seen the sun set in the Ocean from the Pacific Coast Highway in Nepenthe, CA...
if you've ever seen the glowing waters at night in the bio-luminescent bay in Vieques...
if you've ever stood in crystal clear waters with dolphins leaping out of waves a hundred yards out under the warm Caribbean sun as the sea gently laps at your body like a blessing....

If you have seen any of these things then you would understand that, despite my Abhorrence for all travel related elements - especially the TSA's insistence on defiling my person, sexually assaulting me, and invading my privacy - I still tough it out and will continue to as long as I can scrape the money together to voyage beyond my beloved NYC whenever I can!

Because traveling to new places leaves you new as well, and touched by the different energies, experiences, people, and points of contacts in ways profound and important.

Plus only through the attempt to learn and accept things, places and people different/other than yourself can you know how to see yourself in context, place your life in perspective. Through travel you come to understand that you are where the global and local meet, and you decide the rippled outcome.

This is why since the dawn of man people have felt compelled to venture out beyond their homelands.

Well, that, and to get drunk on white sand beaches and have steamy sex with hot strangers.

Summer's Eve Marked by Arrival of an Angry Vagina!!

2011-07-20T08:15:00.005-04:00

So, Summer's Eve which is well known for creating ridiculous, mildly insulting commercials for their seemingly unnecessary crap has gone one further. They've made three ads which seem not only creepy but racist, stereotypical, and overall plain insulting too.
Sigh.

The Black women's version talks about hair because no other women have hair or spend time on it right?:

I don't know which is more Odd:

1)The fact that somehow Summer's Eve thought that using a Talking Hand as a stand in for women's Vaginae totally made sense, or

2)That they thought producing commercials implying that selling hygiene products for women's vaginal spaces requires a Talking Hand that speaks in stereotypical 'whooo sista' girl' accented commentary made sense.

And thank you Summer's Eve for giving the Black Vagina/Hand an Afro because I was wondering what the hair was like down there on myself! Oh Yeah, I hope they do the same for the other racial groups!!

Sigh.

Oh and that's just my feelings about the commercial targeting Black women... there's versions for White and Latina women too!

The White Vagina/Hand talks about going to the gym, and is White so I guess maybe it has an eating/body-dismorphic disorder:

Advertising Mad Men: Oh Boy, we'll have the White one mention working out because only White women do that! We all know those minorities are so Fat!

The Latina Vagina/Hand talks about wearing a leopard print thong, complains about having children, and goes "Ay, ay, ay", of course:

Advertising Mad Men: Oohh lets have the Latina's subtly reference the Anchor Baby conversations by having her complain about being mistreated despite the hard work of having had babies!!

Sigh.

I wonder where the Summer's Eve Asian women's commercial is - you know, one with a slightly yellowed Vagina/Hand advocating for a good cleaning of their vaginae after they've spent the day cleaning other people's laundry?

Or the Muslim women's version - with a Vagina/Hand in hijab that just mummers quietly, unintelligibly through the heavy, black fabric.

Why not pull out all the insulting stereotype stops!!

"I don't want to live on this planet anymore."
-Professor Farnsworth

Airline Arrests Black Man for Sagging Pants, Lets Fly White Man in Lingerie!!

2011-06-21T23:36:00.000-04:00

Dear U.S. Airways:

This crazy photograph of a man barely covered in lace might as well be made of neon blue flexible silicone, conical in shape, with a handle at the wide end, and sold at an adult toys gift shops because of exactly where Deshon Marman's attorney is going to push it into you!!!*

Update:

U.S. Airways has a Black man ARRESTED for having pants allegedly "sagging a bit too low" - but we all know he was truly arrested for the crimes of 1) flying while Black with Dreadlocked hair and 2) believing too fully that the protections of the 1st Amendment apply to him as well.

So they have Marman arrested, and the freakin' week before, a White man in WOMEN'S LINGERIE was allowed to fly, despite other passenger's complaints about what he had on!! I mean, for the sake of decency and public good, just look at the picture of what he wore!!!

Sigh. One of my favorite quotes from Futurama summarizes my feelings when I hear about conflicting, crazy, OBVIOUSLY racially/prejudicially influenced different treatment like this:

"I don't want to live on this planet anymore."

-The Professor, Futurama

[*if innocent about what I am referring to in this section, go here to see an innocuous line drawing and some writing about... it...]

Racism Cloaked So Subltly

2011-06-16T20:38:00.005-04:00

This was a response to a seemingly well meant, but ultimately un-reflective (and consequently tinged with racist overtones) article/blog post by Dr. Saturday about New Mexico football player (safety) Deshon Marman who was arrested for:

1) being Black and large of stature/width
2) having dreadlocks
3) wearing baggy pants
4) daring to ignore the power-tripping commands of the TSA agents that he pull his pants up higher - said TSA agents then followed him to his plane and had him arrested and charged with trespassing for #3 above... Sigh.

Dear Matt,

Your comment...

"Personally, I feel a little dumber for having spent a portion of my morning on it [Marman's story], and for actually feeling compelled to offer this parting advice, applicable to any situation you can possibly encounter in life: When in doubt, always pull your pants up."

...Should make you sad for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that your "advice" comes:
1- without recognition of its own racist underpinnings,
2- without any consideration of historical context, and
3- without real or simulated empathy/sympathy/attempt to accept that although some folks may live their lives differently than yourself, that does not make that difference inherently negative or in need of alteration/change.

Perhaps an example might make number 3 above easier to accept and assimilate. Impossible as it may be for you to believe, imagine, or comprehend, lets say tomorrow, all of US history is reversed: Brown and Black people were the imperial forces who conquered the planet and spread their ideology, and therefore - since 'to the victors go the spoils' - being White in and of itself carries a criminal undertone. So for example, folks get killed just for driving while White, you can and often will be harassed for shopping while White, and people will always believe you are less than capable, intelligent, and of sound moral constitution simply because you are White.

Then lets say in this flipped version of the USA, it is decided that an indicator of criminality worthy of being harassed in public or arrested and hauled off of an airplane, is wearing: Sperrys, polo shirts with the collar popped, LLBean anything, those hideous madras or Nantucket red shorts, or, God Forbid, simply having White skin! Then lets say, a White Man boards a plane wearing madras shorts and is expelled from the plane for it. Are you then going to say your final advice is "When in doubt, don't wear Madras on flights"? Because somehow I don't think you would tell someone that and really think it made any sense.

In the same way, your comment closing out reporting on this ridiculous incident doesn't make any sense.

Yes I agree with you, there will be tons of vitriol and horrible comments about this incident lacking in meta-consideration of all the elements that brought this epically-trivial power struggle to its depressing conclusion. And yet your awareness of this fact does not prevent you from ultimately judging Marman at fault - very unfairly - since he should have "just" pulled up his pants. As someone who hates seeing underwear in public, I might have supported this IF they also arrested women showing thongs above their jeans, or flashing photographers their genitals, or displaying bra straps and cups. If they arrested women equally as often as they harass and arrest young Black men for this allegedly horrific breach of public decency, perhaps... But, wait, no, its still not right in either case for clear reasons.

As a writer in the public arena I expect more of you Matt. As benefactor and progeny of the First Amendment, and the freedom of expression and speech it enables and ensures, you should know better. You don't have to be a libertarian - although hearing stories like this may push you in that direction - to think this much government interference in folks expression through attire is too much. Nor do you have to be very well versed in American racial history to decry attempts like this to stifle people's expressive freedom simply because it is almost exclusively expressed by one racial group who've been vilified, so they're easy to beat up on.

The First Amendment, although often under attack in cases like this with TSA ego-explosions, requires that we tolerate and allow people to wear what they want. Nowhere does it say that Marman's, or anyone else's right to expression ends and their harassment begins at the point where some schmo on a power trip declares they don't like what they're saying/wearing.

Difference Between White & Black Men in Marriage? History!

2011-06-09T00:53:00.004-04:00

This is my response to a disturbing article called 8 Reasons to Date a White Man, published over at Madame Noire, which does a great job at making Black men (en masse, without any historical reflection) out to be horrible, ignorant, jerks:

As a Black woman who always dated inter-racially, but is now married to a White man, I feel keen to comment. At first I felt a sense of the ridiculous in reading this piece and was only laughing - then when my husband began reading as well, he became really upset in part on behalf of my brother and father who do not fit any of the underhanded, vicious, evil stereotypes this scary, unsettling article heaps onto Black men!!

As I reflected on my husband's frustration I too got upset because, not everyone can or will laugh and dismiss this garbage - some people will come away thinking this is a valid list of "reasons" White men are "better" than Black men, which would be a crime! Because 1) one needs to find a person who fits or clicks with them regardless of race! Plus, 2) in relationships, all bets are off! And 3) these broad stereotypes just don't hold up to scrutiny or careful thought!

For example, the author clearly didn't do research when declaring white men free of "down low" behavior or she would have discovered that in strict religious communities, White gay men are just as repressed as Black. I had a gay Mormon acquaintance in college who readily admitted he planned to marry a woman, have a family, and have sex with men at the same time later in life. And what he was saying did not seem odd to him since there were many out there he knew planning to do the same. The only difference between White and Black is that Black people are amazing at clever language and naming things - hence the Down Low idea has more traction with us, but if you look up books or info on the internet about women finding out their husband is gay, you will find all races of women dealing with this.

Another example: as for babies out of wedlock, insecurity, financial intelligence, and all the rest, these alleged differences are wholly attributable to different economic and social situations rooted in historical inequities!! Of course it may be easy for a White man to be more secure: he can trace his family history back to a country of origin, he's never been assumed criminal simply based on his skin color, and he has never/seldom had to swallow his pride to stay alive! And neither has anyone in his family! Of course a White man "may" know about finances: when you have never been disenfranchised you have had your wealth long enough to learn how to make it work for you! (see film & history of Rosewood for what happened often/for a century or more to Blacks who tried to own, have, or build anything - success stories are the rule, not the exception)

Finally, of course White men aren't threatened by educated, accomplished Black women: as Cheryl Harris' brilliant essay "Whiteness as Property" makes clear, regardless of how brilliant you are, you're still not White - so even if this never occurs to your husband as a reason not be threatened by you, the fact that he's always had an easier time of it means your hard work in some sense means less. That may sound harsh in some ways, but the fact of the matter is: if you're with a White man, then there was never a time when it was literally illegal for he and his family to Learn, as it was for Black folks. Therefore, accomplishing the feat of gaining a lot of education means more within the Black community and inside Black relationships than in Black women/White men relationships.

And finally, considering that poverty is the determining factor for Many of these issues: if you go to any poor white community, you find these same problems/issues are not only pervasive but the norm. Has the author even seen MTV's show "16 and Pregnant" because I've only seen one or two featuring Black people, most are White! And that show "Sister Wives" on TLC - you would be hard pressed to show me a more insecure White man than the one on that show who needs 4 women adoring him to feel complete!! And you get the feeling that these women come from non-too-wealthy backgrounds.

All this is to say, generalizing about men like this does a grave wrong by ignoring the history and present and the fact that at the end of the day, every man wants someone to take care of them!

Don't Sue Your Students! Survive Ivy League Teaching or Move On!

2011-05-19T04:14:00.003-04:00

This is my response to story of coo-coo Professor Priya Venkatesan who threatened to sue her students over harassment when she tried to teach!

All I want to say - without in any way supporting the profoundly bizarre and odd act of attempting to sue your students for being their silly, young selves - is that, if you have never been a woman of color attempting to teach in the humanities (or any other discipline for that matter) in one of these Ivy League institutions, then its going to be extremely difficult bordering on impossible for you to understand what it is like in these environments, and why this poor woman may have snapped like she did. Let me explain:

There is an inherent competitive hostility (even with/against a student's professor/instructor) because it is The Ivys. Then add in the "naturally" socialized prejudices/biases and argumentative predilections of young people who are in fact untutored and unschooled but believe themselves already perfectly brilliant - after all they were valedictorian of their school or whatever - and you have a recipe for some often very difficult classroom moments as an instructor/professor of color. And being a woman can often make things ten times worse! Heck, in discussing teaching pedagogy, we have to make sure we cover the chapter titled:

"How to deal with an extremely stubborn and hostile student who is targeting you for harassment - probably/possibly due to race or gender - in a neutral and diplomatic fashion"

And this is even if you are teaching something very rote and basic and widely accepted. In the past with difficult students, teaching simple reading/writing techniques, I have had to literally blanket the table/desk at the front of the classroom in paper/texts from other, respected, published, usually White sources that echo whatever I've been trying to teach, just to get students to lay off! Even now I can hear myself saying, "Look, Plato started doing this first, not me, and that's why the university feels it is important for you to learn." Sigh. It can drive one insane.

That said, I have pity on her, although I think she only made things worse with all this lawsuit business. She just should have written it off as a bad semester and moved on! You can't win every group over every term.

Objectionable Prescriptives for Women's Viewing Behavior...

2011-05-15T02:58:00.002-04:00

Response to Edelstein's review of BrideWars over at NPR:

Dear Edelstein,

As a female-of color-English Ph.D. student with very broad interests and sensibilities, I am having trouble figuring out in what way your 'review' of this film is most offensive! Is it:

1)In its essentializing of the female experience - as if there is some exclusively female frailty that is inherent and prohibitive of certain behavior. In other words, you seem to believe that if men find it funny women can't as well because...?

2)In your presumption that to be Female is to only find specific (what, "ladylike"?) forms of humor funny or acceptable. The scene at the bridal shop became more funny for me than for my husband because he doesn't know the value/cost of bridal gowns (I do) nor the strain women regularly are under Not to allow any untoward smells to escape their person- let alone a food poisoning explosions. For the women of our group, this made the scene a cathartic rush revealing that we too are human... and in pain over that gorgeous ruined gown!

3)Your reduction of Melissa McCarthy's wonderful and emotionally complex performance to one of playing off of her Girth! There was more nuance and grace to her portrayal than you give her credit for, and your review smacks of your inability to see beyond her weight.

Part II:

I'm sorry, but I must make one more comment or suggestion about what makes this review problematic - as 'Analytical Ph.D. Student' I cannot fail to give "suggested reading" if I take issue with an argument.

It seems that at best, this Review would be better described as an ill-intentioned and oddly toned Referendum on what women are or are not permitted to find humorous, or what experiences women are or are not entitled to have/claim as part of their functioning as human beings in an American cultural setting!

I suggest you watch the South Park episode on queefing. (Though unladylike I suppose, there is no other more appropriate and simple word to choose.) I thought they did a great job at highlighting that women have a sense of humor as well that can intersect with bodily (mal)functions.

Women have bodies too, and in some ways are more of our bodies than men are by virtue of our frequent object status. (See fast food places giving girls dolls and boys trucks in kid's meals.)

There is a prim propriety thrust upon women which I am happy to see these hysterical, bright women shake off the yoke of in this film! Please stop trying to tie them back down with antiquated, prescriptive genre titles.

Why Are We So Slow As A Country??

2009-09-25T12:28:00.002-04:00

If you haven't seen this amazing comic-commentary pseudo-commercial from Will Ferrell friends speaking out against Big Health Care Companies making billions off of keeping Americans sick, then go see it now!!

When will we realize its crazy that we are the only westernized wealthy country who doesn't care about the health of our citizenry? No wonder we're the fattest country in the world, the insurance companies need us to be!

Reading: Remember, Savor, Repeat

2009-07-06T04:56:00.006-04:00

Been away a while. Needed to not think about typing anything, even something as therapeutic as this blog. Time to be without technology... I wanted to read regular old books and watch Law and Order and relax. Of course I can't do that, I have to take a summer language class. A dreadful invention meant to induce migraines. I need to read a Good Book and have to lingering worry about generals questions later on.

Reading as therapy. Which reminded me of something.

Months ago, a professor in giving advice to a student applying to PhD programs near me advised her not to put something pedestrian in her application essay like she wants to go to grad school because she likes reading. And I've let that ruminate for a while now.... because you see, I put that I love reading in my essay.

Did this professor read my essay? Did others think me boring for the statement? Because I meant it in no germane context.

I think we take reading for granted far too often forgetting the insanity of scribbled black marks becoming... Yes, becoming.

We forget how complex the manner of inscribing language which we think we know but which - like driving over certain speeds or the ocean after you've reached a certain distance from shore - is truly not within our control. We forget to consider that how we use what we say in specific ways to achieve certain ends, and how when written down in what is allegedly a stable form, there is still that false bottom hat where the rabbit is hiding. We forget that all too often what we throw out does not bounce the way we thought it would, and challenges our ability to clean up mess with more mess - far riskier lobs. Language, reading, is playing tennis on the unpredictable clay courts of the French Open. Reading is trusting that when the man in the trick jacket - the author in her desk chair - says he will Cut You In Half for the pleasure of the audience, and ultimately himself, that he is in fact quite skilled at his craft. You hope that you will end up dazzled, charmed, bewildered, but not truly physically injured - unable to put yourself back together again.

Reading is, we must consider reading as, an act of pure magic.

Or how often do we forget the quantum physics of reading, how on the subparagraph level, under careful observation, one sentence can cripple the experiment. How the frequency of reading can increase understanding or pervert the course of connection. In reading, what we write down, what other perceive, what time does to the slant of a phrase, to the inflection on a word, to the very internal stability and length of time that text will last, are all unstable elements warring with each other, with the page itself, in a fight for dominance. What learning and information do to how language flows through us, flows through our mouths, through the synaptic connections we barely understand, and into air that is different every single moment, and over the tricky substance of time's flow... these my friends, are what we consistently forget.

Reading as a fundamental state of altered consciousness.

So when I say that I love reading in my essay, I make no ho hum space filler. What I wanted, tried to convey was the deeply spiritual connection I have to the written word. How a good book is my temple and there is serenity, salvation within. How the right series of words, or the right individual word, can freeze me in time, literally contradict the laws of this universe, to allow me my own bubble of perfect understanding, a unity that is ephemeral but whose impact is my life. That so many books have healed me - usually baptisms by fire, truth is not sweet - and filled spaces I did not know were there until I lifted the book and felt at ease.

Reading as the serene experience of glancing into a dark, still pond of water, of unknown depth, from the comfort of a sturdy boat, hand trailing the water, summer skies full of sun. The summer breeze is not strong enough to ruffle pages to distraction/frustration of course.

I do not besmirch the oral tradition from which I have most certainly sprung. But there is something to the creamy, slippery texture of the page, the minuscule dimples, the uneven quality of most paper. The places where the printer's ink failed, left off half of a word, top or side, or maybe just the dot on an i, reminding you that each book is in fact individual, and must be made page by individual page - "one million in print" be damned!

There is a sensation that sinks into a book you've had a long, long time, like it has absorbed some of you into the crinkled/wrinkled edges, brown from turning pages. A profound connection in the tea stains, and corners worn soft - so often used to absentmindedly clean under fingernails. Something within the gesture of filling hundreds of pages with the attempt to tell a story, share a bit of consciousness - however faulty the execution may/might end up - and in your own attempt, in reading, to understand that story and, by extension, the impulse to inscribe it in just this way. There is fascination in language/books' execution, ingestion, processing, integration...

These, yes these are the things which we must: remember, savor, repeat.

Minor Meditation: Emancipation

2009-06-02T22:00:00.002-04:00

The problem with America's 1865 emancipation of the enslaved was that, African Americans were so busy envisioning a freedom like Whites had been parading around for centuries, denied any model of alternative liberty in a brown body as they were, that they could not conceptualize a space of freedom for those Whites without their having a place in it.

In other words, had they known better, they would have realized the American constitution held no hand of opportunity out to them – it could not even see them. The freedom they envied, depended upon their remaining enslaved.

Minor Meditation: Conservative Capitalism IS an Ideology!

2009-05-19T21:46:00.002-04:00

Forced to post this reply to a crazy person who has no ability to self-reflect (let alone reflect on why he thinks the way he does) at this site when I realized that some people still think that we all crawled out of the sludge or God placed us in the garden (or however they think we got here) and we all had Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations in the amniotic sac with us.
Hey ya'll!: Capitalism is an ideology, a belief system, just like anything else!
Sigh:

"The proper conservative view is we’re all equals, trading (or not) by our own decisions, right or wrong. People may end up trading in ways you and I dislike, but the general principle of freedom is valued more than imposing a specific moral view." -Antioch

Antioch here is unfortunately making an argument that wouldn't hold a feather let alone water! To argue that enforcing a Conservative/Republican agenda is to NOT force people to do as you wish is a false tautology! You are still very much forcing people to do as you wish, AND it is also forcing a moral code on everyone to boot! To situate the value and worth of a person as involving trade is already to steep yourself in an ideological tradition that not everyone adheres to, and which has very flawed moral underpinnings!

The only thing is, we're starting to realize that the moral crap that we have sunk ourselves in does not provide for any sort of viable future if we do not include healthcare for everyone. For Antioch to argue he doesn't want to be forced to pay for "those other people" (you know, like they're not neighbors, citizens, with whom we share the same water sources and food producing fields...) is the same as saying that people are not being forced right now to die and suffer and acrue debt due to inadequate or nonexistent healthcare!

Oh, you don't wanna pay for it now, but we'll ALL be paying for it in the future alright. We'll be paying when something far worse than swine flu shows up and we don't have enough doctors or adequate healthcare. We'll pay when we don't have a citizenry who have had consistent healthcare all their lives to shore up their immune systems, so America gets hit with a superbug and becomes the black hole into which no one will go or invest money because We Let People Die here.

Now Antioch, that's not a moral code that makes any sense at all.

Minor Meditation: Your Body is Not Yours

2009-05-17T04:01:00.001-04:00

After I don't know how many comments, touches, and untold amounts of attention paid to my breasts by people of both sexes, I get it. I'm not in Puerto Rico anymore, where no one cares if its hot and you wear a tank top because its hot all the time - how lucky was I to live in a place where it was strange if you were covered up? But that's all Over. Any newfound comfort with my larger, non-traditional self that I may have learned there must be unlearned now because I am back on the mainland and my body is not mine. It belongs to the man picking up garbage, the bartender at the bar, supposed friends who feel instantly at liberty to poke and/or comment, the Black men who think they own me because my skin is brown, the gay male friend for whom women and breasts are a freakish oddity, and, well... anyone else.

My choices are to stay fully covered up at all times like the overweight, busty girl I know myself to be, or suffer the "minor" violations and assaults, daily harassment, that we women know are our lot....

I am so tired.

I will stay fully covered up from now on.

Exhausted White Womenhood....

2009-05-15T18:28:00.005-04:00

There has been a lot of drama recently over the women of Jezebel whose drunken claims to the right to be raped, accept it as your fate, not report it, and assume if it happens again, who cares, were publicly declared a while ago on a late night TV talk show. This in a battle with a woman writing at DoubleX, which Aunt Jemima's Revenge brought to my attention. So you don't have to read literally dozens of pages of angry bickering between the drunken hordes and (proud) whores or sluts as they call themselves over at Jezebel and the angry old guard at DoubleX, here's the the Jezebel's general argument:

As the new feminist guard, they should have the right to full sexual liberation with no judgement. They can go home with whomever they want, do whatever they want, drink until they pass out, and engage in the same behavior men have allegedly been enjoying since time immemorial. They don't believe in age of consent laws, and at one point threw doubt on the claims to rape made by a 13year old girl against Roman Polanski since his giving her drugs was not the first time she had had them, and she was an aspiring actress after all. And since her mother arranged things, she had to know at least a little what was going on and went along with it...

Very, very disturbing; and the tip of the problems is when you consider that these women are only speaking for themselves. They really imagine that what they are advocating for is what everyone should do. This is problematic not the least because of all that they do not even know they are ignoring - namely women of color!

Just when I think Feminism as a movement is realizing that you can't even think about any of the Issues (empowerment, sexual liberation, equality, etc) without considering against what these ideas are pushing, you get a mess like this! The establishment of liberty, in whatever form, in discussions of "Feminism" which are really about liberty for White women, cannot exist without the downtrodden quality of and regard for Black women! Mainly because in this country we know what we want to have based on what black women have been denied for so long!

This lends a very perverse element to these women's complaints at Jezebel. For, if what they want is the right to wild, wanton sexual lives, then we know at least in part, this is a throwback to the perception that Black women were/are endowed with some inherent super-sexual nature. We've all heard the arguments: That's why so many slave owners slept with their black female slaves. Not because it was rape, but because the women wanted it. They were luring those men away from their wives.

bell hooks talks about this phenomenon in Ain't I A Woman, and if you read her work, the way these women are shaping their demands is really sad. To want to be raped - as one of the Jezebel ladies did, so she paid someone to seem to take her by force - is to want a subjugation and oppression this country was once exposed to on a daily basis. White women's aspirations to be pulled from their pedestal and used as a sexual object is a desire that has roots going a very long way back.

What is even more perverse is that these women are unaware of this! They have needs and desires that they do not understand. They invoke or desire violence that, while not at all connected any true or universal sense of female empowerment, it is tied to the subtextual notions of American liberty:

Basically, with so much actual freedom and control over the lives of millions in America, what White consciousness now requires is to be abused as those brown bodies were abused. The only missing "liberty" or "freedom" they now need is the right to suffer pain, degredation, daily oppression, neglect and cruelty. That is why these women really 'want' to be raped.

Much more to be said about this. But for now, this is depressing enough.

Minor Meditation: The Republican Bus

2009-05-14T10:06:00.008-04:00

If you click the blog title, you can read the piece that my words were inspired by and are in answer to.

However, this is the exerpted text which I am focusing on:

"Bloomberg:

Republicans are getting inspiration on how to rebuild their party in the U.S. Congress from an unlikely source: White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel.

California Representative Kevin McCarthy, the chief recruiter for House Republicans, said he wants his party to select candidates based less on ideology and more on their chances of winning. The goal, he said, is to seek out prospects who are ethnically diverse, female, less partisan and even supportive of abortion rights. So far, these efforts are more concept than reality."

To all this I say:

Oh, poor, poor Republicans!

We - the diverse, the women, the fabulously attuned to the multiple currents of ideology and exisitence on the planet - Don't Want the Republican ride to where we're going! For too long your bus service has been late to the diversity stop, completely lacking in provisions for the sick and infirm (those lovely anti-universal health care arguments), and constructed for only one race's historical luggage!

Plus, your buses don't stop in poor areas or ethnically diverse areas, you hate when I bring my meditation pillow on board (only crosses and bibles allowed), my friend has to pretend that the man next to him is just his bible study partner and not his love, and as an academic I don't make enough money to pay the fare!

But WORST of all, you claim to believe in it, but the list of rules on the bus, that Constitution thingy, you know that everyone's bus has? Well on your bus line, it only applies to a select group! You don't want everyone on the bus to enjoy the same priviledges that you do! And this will not work!

So, thank you very much, I'm flattered. But i will stick with my current service.

Minor Meditation: String Theory

2009-05-13T08:00:00.006-04:00

Of all the pleasant thoughts to start out the day, of all the moments to reinforce Buddhist teachings of calm, patience and acceptance, mine came from a history channel special on the theory of Parallel Universes:

In some Universe, Hitler met some really gorgeous woman who loved his art work. After the war instead of being rootless, he went back to her and they shacked up somewhere for years in the German countryside. He painted, she milked cows, he carved the cabinets for the kitchen, she smoothed out sheep's wool into yarn to make sweaters. And never once did he think about world domination while playing with his daughter whose hair was deep, dark brown - like her mothers.

In another Universe, after serving during world war II, James Earl Ray decided not to return to the states. Instead, reveling in the different opportunity-rich feel of Europe as compared to the poverty he came from in Illinois, he settled finally in Italy. He worked for years on a family farm dedicated to Olives, Figs and Pignolia. Eventually, he married the lovely daughter of the farm owner's sister, and spent the rest of his years happy in a sea of rich red wine and sunflowers.

In yet one more Universe, my grandparents are still alive. Upon reaching their 40s and 50s and staring into the sweet young faces of their children, they decide to change habits. Stick to the diets doctors gave them cutting back on the good rich foods and recipes they brought with them on their Great Migrations out of Trinidad, Puerto Rico, Georgia, and Tennessee. And they lived and lived... To see past their 60s and 70s.

In a final Universe perhaps I never was, or was in a different form, or am in a partial piece. Perhaps in the 1300's the Bubonic Plague left Europe empty, clean, and dry. And instead of the transatlantic genocide which spawned my meztizo familial line, I exist partially in a woman walking a lush forest path in what we know as central Rwanda - which has never seen a genocide or a person with White skin and blue eyes. Or maybe I exist partially in a Carib Indian woman who sits on a beach in what we know as St. Johns, watching her child play in the surf. Worried about sharks in a foot of water as only mothers can.

Why any of this?

Because on the subatomic level, when you get too far down for general contemplation, things are... fuzzy. So fuzzy other universes are possible. Down there, atoms are unstable. Particles vibrate. Things, electrons, move when you look where you expect them to be; they anticipate your observation. And the particles that make everything up? Well, they can be in more than one place at once.

And so can we.

So today, I am on that beach in St. Johns, and the String Theory that makes me Me? Well it's a bit of Redemption Song and Canon in D and My Little Brown Book - and its vibrating slowly, along with the surf.

My Mother Channeling Bert Williams

2009-05-11T09:04:00.008-04:00

Walking through some store in Mexico a few years ago, very small and tight a space, a sales girl decided I, as darkest person in the store, looked suspicious. Not the granny with the giant handbag huddled in the corner, or the two teenagers with backpacks, Nope, just me.

They apparently do not have shows like Punk'd or Candid Camera in Mexico,* then she would have known what was up, because as she followed me, when I knew she was, I began to walk faster. Leading her around in circles that would sometimes loop back on her and cut around. Coming to abrupt halts so she would run into me, eventually dropping things or knocking them off the shelf to slow her down. Ah, what fun.

Did I mention this was in a store about 16x16 feet? Yes, about the size of a small/medium living room. Did she ever catch on? I don't know. What I do know is that my friends never laughed so hard in public and I had a lot of fun channelling Ada Issacs Menken (see brilliant Daphne Brooks book Bodies in Dissent for info about Menken).

Do not get me wrong. This being followed is tiresome, to say the least. It is, as Fred Moten so wonderfully noted when I saw him speak recently, and I paraphrase, "One of those things you are forced to deal with by being Black. Being Black is a series of uncomfortable incidents that remind you of context and your very Skin." He's so sharp.

I do not remember the first time I was followed or knew someone who suffered what I call the "Black Trailing Behavior" I have heretofore described, but the times it got "rough" are as clear as day!

> My three Aunts - Teachers, Business Owners, Executives - were followed, grabbed, and searched in the back of a NY&Co store in upstate NY. Caught up in the shock and incredulity a Black person instantly feels at how a situation goes from pleasant to evil and invasive in the blink of an eye, they did not resist as one would fully expect them to, if you knew my family! These regal Black women in their late 30's and early 40's allowed their bags and things to be searched by White store associates in their 20's making $6.50/hr, in a dirty back storeroom that reeked of old coffee grounds and that particular stale-ish smell rooms get when they are infrequently visited or cleaned. After, of course, finding Nothing amid the expensive leather purses and shopping bags, they simply let them go! Still in a daze, my wonderful Aunts wandered out the doors and home. Only to break later under the knowledge that bearing/clothing/deportment aside - they were always just Black.

>My three friends and I. First year of college, so excited to be brilliant women on the rise. We took off one Friday from the library in search of new togs for the season. In some random shop in the mall (perhaps another NY&Co - I have never had a good experience in that store!), in our happiness, when a young 20-ish White girl comes up to us and asks "Where are the earrings that were here?!?" pointing at some random open spot beyond arm's reach of any of us on a rack of hundreds of cheap, already peeling earrings. Again, shocked into near incoherency, we Literally Do No Understand her question - "What?" She asks again. We say who knows! Off she storms. It takes us long minutes talking to each other to realize that, despite the number of White customers nearer to the rack than we and despite our relatively pulled together appearance, We must be the ones that took some phantom pair of earrings because at the moment we were the only Black ones in the store! Seriously Angry we asked for the manager only to find out (shock of shocks!) that She Was the Manager! I have always hated that lie. We dropped whatever we were going to buy on the floor and left. Again reminded that, regardless of where we were in school, we Are Black.

>And the final one for this post - in Kmart of all places! My Mother and a much younger version of myself. Of all people to be followed, My Mother! Very down to earth and accessible. But also So Bougie! To get off topic for a moment of humor: when I wanted to go camping like the other little Brownie-Troop girls (all White) in my suburban NY neighborhood, My Mother said "No dear. Only homeless people sleep outside." Hysterical! But that's what you think when you grow up in the Bronx as she did! But I digress.

Anyway. She, as always, dressed to perfection with an expensive handbag (teaching me subconsciously the bad habit of irresistible adoration for fine leather purses that I carry with me to this day on my arm & on my credit card) and a pulled together outfit. I am certain I was dressed the same - it wasn't until I could dress myself that pictures took a slide towards the awful.

I don't know when she knew we were being followed, but like a gazelle on a game trail, she knew a hyena was drooling close by and threatening her baby! So with Gazelle-like Grace, she had been leading this glorified-dog on a tour of the store, up and down aisles, through the same section four times in a row. In her red apron, the sales girl must have been so upset to have been given this task! Now I realize too that is why My Mother looked so happy and smug - her deft turns and humor laced slips, like Bert Williams in vaudeville glam! Dropping a roll of paper towels there, knocking a T-shirt down here - juggling Me, Blackness, and Vanity/Pride like a Pro!

Now I know why we never got the toilet paper or toothpaste or whatever we had gone in for! We had been marked for trailing and at some point she had realized we Are Black.

Now Please Don't Get Me Wrong!!! I am no elitist, my bougie tendencies do not extend to judgements based on attire or appearance! I really do believe in the parable that says you should give help to anyone because it might be Jesus coming to the door dressed poorly seeking food. And I believe that you never know where you will find the face of God, and thus grace for yourself. So what you are wearing should NEVER determine treatment! I know it does, but dressing a certain way should not exclude you from or entitle you to harassment!! Just as a certain skin color should not do anything similar either!

Then why do I tell these stories, dwelling lovingly on leather handbags? (Aside from my aforementioned Addiction - really its a sickness.) I do so for the people who continue to tell me its all in our heads. That Black people make these things up by always looking for Race.

Looking for Race, Looking for Race, Looking for Race!! If I had a quarter for every time someone told me Blacks were just "looking for race," like Race was a freakin' shoe under the bed we needed to wear to an appointment, or a dime we dropped under the machine while buying some skittles, I would be able to retire to an island next to Oprah's in the Caribbean!!

These folks seem to think that we enjoy feeling harassed. That we get some thrill out of it! Now, I believe this belief of theirs in "Joy in Social Subjugation" is tied psychologically to a need among an oppressive group to feel what they are doing to the oppressed - a type of Projection for you Freudians out there - but that is for another post.... Or a book.... ©!

For those who think we Want harassment and seek it in every altercation I say Bahhhh! I point to the countless stories of broken hearts, tears, depression, angry letters to company headquarters, and swears to never shop in such-n-such a place again! I point to Black women in particular, across a spectrum of earning potential and class status - from my Daycare Center owning Aunt to Oprah - who want very, very much to believe in the dream of us all blending together, and expanding outward to live fully realized, non-raced lives.

And yet, in Moten's terms, must continually be confronted by the discomfort of being pushed back into ourselves forcefully. Of realizing that skin trumps so very much. Skin trumps everything.

Thank God for the humor! If not for My Mother's comic turn in my childhood, anger over the injustice might have overtaken me by now. If not for laughter, where would we be?

So Thank You Mom - Happy Mother's Day!!!

So post your comments, share your stories, lord knows there are millions. This is a space to let it out so it can stop coming back and killing us as high blood pressure and heart disease!

(*random generalization used for comic flow and not meant to be taken literally or as a slur against Mexico. And yes I am footnoting a Blog post for the second time. its that serious over here in Academijikistan.)

Minor Meditation: Allegiance

2009-05-10T22:31:00.000-04:00

I do not understand most people. Why it is nearly impossible for people to look at an ideology or theology or whatever, and select what works to believe in and neglect what does not!

This goes out to Black Christians throwing full allegiance behind the conservative republican movement without giving another thought to anything that they are doing. In fact, they support everything! Even when it goes against common sense, intelligence, the truth, or their faith!

Because YES, the conservative Christain Republican movement does in fact do many, many things that I am certain the God of the judeo-christian book we call the Bible is really, really pissed off about.

You know, him being the Diety that advocated against judging others.

The same God who told you as puny human to share the word of God with others, but don't go thinking you are HIM and acting against others in any physical way.

The God who told you to chill out since all will eventually be judged by Him, so let folks alone!

Yes that same God who in a dozen or more verses advocates for tolerance, patience, and love.

He is NOT in fact the God of the religious right who would make certain against all other considerations that you are Born; but that makes equally as certain that if you go against Man's laws they will put you to Death.

NO. God stands not in allegiance with them.

God in fact stands in allegiance with those who follows his guidance concerning love, peace, prosperity shared, and honesty/integrity earned. He does not believe in political parties but in intelligence and tolerance.

So, please: Think for yourself! Take what works. Leave what doesn't!

If you are in fact a Black person or person of Color who chooses to become a Republican because, after winning the American craps game of economic success you now "have something to conserve," and get invited to the Easy Life Buffett, examine at your plate. Don't swallow the whole animal without looking closely at what you are eating - That's how you end up choking on the hooves!

Minor Meditation: Literary Emotion

2009-05-06T09:52:00.002-04:00

I have been told twice this semester that Toni Morrison's writing is depressing. This angers me quite a bit since these people can only find her depressing if they have not read any literature written in the 1800's or early 1900's about race relations in America.

Specifically those written by White authors in whose imagination I see nothing to recognize of anything I know to be true about Black people. And in whose ink stained grasp, those same people become hollow stereotypes, steeped in ignorance, foolishness, hopelessness. Folks with no choices and no future.

In Morrison's world, though not always pretty, the voices sing! They serenade! And at the end, I feel such joy that someone who so loves herself and people of color has taken on the task of representing their reality - because she does a wonderful job at that!

I Am... Will Smith

2009-05-06T07:03:00.005-04:00

I am meditating on why I Am Legend makes me cry.

I realize I am in danger of becoming maudlin or depressing in all of my posts, but hear me out - there is hope here I promise!

When I first saw the movie, I felt a deep and abiding sense of unease and confusion. Why was I so sad? More than an identification with Will Smith - who does resemble my brother and father in personality, intelligence, wit, charm, and looks - it was the way the story sunk into me in ways most if not all reviewers failed to touch upon... Was this an inabilty of theirs to see beyond the Star? Beyond the glitz of the production? A refusal to see the world through the eyes of a Black Man Hero who is also a brilliant scientist? (Many reviewers took issue with him as a scientist - they obviously haven't seen my hot brilliant brother, but I digress) But, reviewers would I am sure say to me, everyone knows that Smith is no longer Black, no longer "race-ed" but exists in the extra-critical world of the Star Product. Does he? Do any of us? Halle Berry's Oscar turn in a film where she is a horrible mother who beats up her child and reviewers loved it... was that race-less?

Why is Smith so compelling? Its the look in his eyes. As the camera draws close, invasive, penetrating, and in violation of his private moment, you read so much of fear, exhaustion, despair, and hopelessness under the gloss of the Star. He is a man fighting against impossible odds all alone. He saw his wife and child killed, circumstance has taken away anyone that might help him, and now he just wants to give his life a meaning worth living for. To cure the disease and give humanity a future.

Does everyone know this film? Some background:

The Plot: What was to be, and appeared to be, a cure for cancer has turned the country into a zombie-like race of extremely photosensitive animal like hordes who have killed anyone who did not at once fall prey to the illness. Smith is a doctor/scientist who worked on the 'cure' and is now working, alone for years in an empty city, on the antidote to the disease.

The Undercurrent: After he kiddnaps one of the diseased, a White Woman, to try and cure her in his laboratory, a horde of pale/White men and women lead by an alpha White male, stalk a Black man through the streets of NYC.

At one point, the string him up through an elaborate trap from one foot for several hours.

Reading race into the movie or reading race out of its set up? I don't know.

But the idea of a Black man chased, strung up and brutalized is... The story of a Black man in America feeling so alone, crying at his inabilty to make the positive change he wants to, and at one point begging a manequin to talk to him, say anything, recognize him as human, a person, deserving of recognition... This plot is one far, far too familiar.

In his basement laboratory, under generator produced light, Smith is at once Ellison's Invisible Man and yet the hypervisible center of our vision our concern our identification. I can hear my professors exclaiming that I read too much into a star vehicle. But it is there.

Perhaps reviewers failed to connect and the Oscars failed to come calling - as I truly felt they should have for so nuanced a performance that masqueraded as summer Hero worship fun - was that we are still unready as a country to deal with what we have done to so many thousands who have been lynched. Chased down by hordes of thousands and killed for public entertainment. The country cannot face the fact that so many here feel the same way as Smith's character in the film - alone and hunted, ignored and ultimately doomed, adrift and traveling through cities, towns, spaces where they must constantly live in fear.

Avoiding dark places where the pale ones would do you harm.

I promised hope and I shall deliver: in the end, he discovers the cure!**Spoiler Below**

He solves the problem and saves humanity.

But still I cry. For my brother, my father, and the many thousands imprisoned or dead as a result of nothing more than mellinin. For the feeling of helplessness we all often feel.

It shouldn't be called I Am Legend. It should be called simply I AM. A request for humanity... at least.

**Of course, they eventually kill him as reward for his discovery. Thus the Black man must die for the country to be saved. Sorry, I guess it is depressing in the end....

Minor Meditation: To Grieve

2009-05-04T15:35:00.001-04:00

...you grieve in a trip, a fall, a slippage and a slow inclined slide (though there may be no physical movement, just that of your self through memory)...

this eventually leads to a stand-still.
you wake up no longer moving.
the dream of falling - over.

you eat something, do something, move outside, breath, and try not to slip again...

The Marrow of Tradition

2009-05-04T15:03:00.004-04:00

Crying this morning.

Against my academic training. Against my alleged distance from materials which I subject to critical scrutiny. Against my supposed temporal distance from matters which happened a "long time" ago...

Words: I love the connection of long to time - of a distance measurement to a sensation which we observe only peripherally. I mean, truly, time is that which we see out the corner of our eye, but which, upon turning seems to have disappeared. Like a ghost. Like an illusion. Like a floater in our eye that was not there when we were ten, but now drifts through at will, across the mundanity of our day to remind us that there is a world within us to complement the one without, and it too is decaying.

I love that 'Long' is so very indeterminate. That it means different things for everyone and lies as a space between, a mediating revolving phantasm that spooks each of us differently. Long the day, long the hour, long the minute. Long the pool, long the miles.... we accept language so whole heartedly for so skeptical a species!!! Why we accept that Long and Time belong together is a mystery to me, although we are also lazy.

But I have become esoteric.

This novel, this text, has made me cry. I have not cried like this since I fully merged with the words while reading Octavia Butler's Kindred, and realized to the depths of my own marrow, that were I born a few centuries earlier, my life would have been one of indescribable horror, pain, degredation, violation, oppression, and sadness only balanced by the inescapable knowledge that life is, at least, brief.

Brief and perhaps balanced by something better on the other side....

The Other Side. Something Better. Not an Opiate of the masses. But a belief and an inextricable part of what allows us to continue rising each morning and breathing when there seems no reason to. Better - than here, than now.

There must be!

Because we all know, can feel in the flow of our blood from veins to arteries that the Planet's guiding principle is Balance. Our bodies continually seek balance, our environment (through all we try to eradicate that balanced functioning, Nature tries), heck, even the most simple laws of nature - of hot flowing into cold flowing into warm flowing into hot into cold... filling spaces and seeking equilibrium.

All that We Know seeks Balance.

Except, it seems, us.

Therefore, if Now is an indescribable Horror of Pain, there must be an Other Side of, if not pleasure, than Equilibrium and comfort... right? Please? There must be because the seeking of balance is what the very planet we walk on seeks. So how can there not be a Balance for the Human Spirit?? Even if it lies beyond what we can know in these tortured bodies. There must be. And so religion is not false, but fundamental. Not misleading, but a guide to avert annihilation. A beyond that is possible... right?

But the pain of the Now is profound. And marrow deep.

So, I cry.

The book - yes the Marrow of Tradition is a book - is about a North Carolina town where the only successful coup of a legally elected government on U.S.A. mainland territory has taken place. The story of a massacre of Black citizens by White in the wake of the changing face of the city - a city that was quickly balancing out as Mama Nature of course, would have it. These White citizens disrupted that fast approaching balance through their hate and fear, and by violence, by slaughter. Eventually destroying all Black businesses and driving over 2,100 Black citizens to flee in fear.

My love/hate relationship with academia revealed: If not for so many scholars pushing through the quagmire of these stories, this history alongside me, I would throw the book away.

Why I Don't Know What I am Talking About

2009-05-03T22:44:00.002-04:00

One of the saddest elements of life may be that you can love something dearly and hate it at the same time. Such is my relationship with graduate school.

These lofty ivory/ivy coated walls are deceptive. Holding out the offer of advancement and enlightenment, they locked my shackles as I smiled and drank the punch. However, they are not dedicated to enlightenment, but to a speciously reflective, deceptive brilliance meant to drown out all other lights.

A light that blinds. A light that erases, effaces and ultimately dissolves. Until all that is left is the light without... and the emptiness within - or so they want you to believe. What unbalance that comes from being told that all within is false? If only you would bathe in the light...

* * *

I am an Academic in training. A dedicated worshiper at the alter of Intensive Reinterrogation of Old News. Committed to a life of the mind, creative discussion, innovative theorizing. Unfortunately for me, I am also a woman of color. This means I do not know what I am talking about.

In a recent meeting to plan for next year, two White males and me, I was told repeatedly that the work ivy league professors (whom I studied with during my masters degree) have been doing for 50years does not exist because a young, White, male, Harvard undergrad-trained fellow grad student, does not know of it. I was informed that none of the experts and professors in the field - all or mostly people of color as well - know what they are talking about either! We are all entertaining some grand delusion that we can know anything about this Lesser cultural environment that Whites may not know instinctively already. This cultural world that exists below the surface of White normative culture in their minds, but alongside it in actuality.

How many times after you repeat the same information, and remain ignored, before you crack? I don't know.

Do I attempt to discuss 18th Century French poetry with authority? Do I tell people who have masters degrees in the subject that they are somehow wrong? Or simply ignore their assertions and cautioning as to my thinking about it? Nope.

How many times after you repeat the same information, and remain ignored, before you crack?

There is a belief among many that there is a lesser quality or value of the Lives and the Lived Experiences of people of color in America. This "Less" means that everyone can have access to knowledge about it. This knowledge requires no work, no effort. You pay nothing to have it. You give up nothing in its acquisition. The Knowledge simply IS, and as an IS, you can pick it up anytime anywhere. Like garbage from a street corner.

And it is to be handled equally as casually. As ruthlessly. As carelessly.

Like me.

Sometimes I don't know why I bother.

Wel, Come On In...

2009-05-02T21:47:00.002-04:00

Welcome - I like words. I love language.

You will quickly understand this about me should you visit often. I adore the way words become speech become language... The way they roll from my tongue/lips and into Meaning, a dangerous terrain indeed. How every word is a house of many rooms with different implications and timed desires. Masquerading sweetly in ink or pixel.

For example, welcome - the background noisy-ness of the word, the diffident bragging, the overconfident issued command - truly a word to battle other words for right of way! Wel, Come. As in, I could take you or leave you, but now I take and call it cordial.

But why this play with words? Why here at all? The Point?

Because:

The costs of some types of public speech are too high. But the costs of charged silence, apparently low, accrue interest rapidly.
Reflection - visual or mental - does not ensure understanding.
Often the ones closest are least likely to understand.
Everyone needs their "Hard Harry," even little colored girls.
Your truth is real though all call it false.
Your experience valid though all call it perception.
Your days are tactile though all see you as without feeling.

Ultimately, because the consistent Denial from without can drive you so deeply within yourself that the only thing to be done is repeatedly explode - and this is my blast radius. My mine field. My failed bomb squad attempt. The disastrous power-sharing negotiations following a thousandth coup attempt.

And So, The Tinted Vent, a space of Color to trouble Black & White ideas - proposing warm Color as an alternate to... the Nothing.