It's Not so Black and White

Suli Breaks is a spoken word artist from the UK, best known for his videos and poems on our education system. Yesterday, he released a new video responding to the Eric Garner verdict.

It's Not so Black and White (R.I.P. Eric Garner)

"The only reason they allow us to oppose the violence, stating that it's 'racially motivated,' is that's the only way we remain segregated...saying that it's 'racially motivated' makes everyone else feel like as long as they're not black, they're safe." 

"We need to acknowledge that in the eyes of this system, we are all black." 

***

Other than sharing news articles, I've been avoiding speaking out too much about the police brutality cases going on nationwide. I haven't felt like it's my place to do so. I grew up in an area that is, according to the 2010 census, 94.5% white, and very affluent. I went to a private Catholic college. I currently live in New England (in a town that is 93.4% white.) So, yeah, not my place to speak up in a conversation that's almost entirely about race or low socioeconomic standing. I have been happy to remain on the sidelines and cheer. 

Like that

And from conversations I've both heard and read, that seems to be the general consensus of what "Allies" are supposed to do in these circumstances. I hear it all the time from my peers in the LGBTetc. community -- cishets can't fight our fights. There is no "A for Ally" in our acronym, they belong in the background. Same goes for feminism -- "No uterus, no opinion!" We have a tendency to attack anyone who doesn't share our exact experiences for daring to voice anything at all related to those experiences, even sometimes if it's to ask questions or lend support. 

I understand those perspectives. Certainly an ally should never be at the top of their fighting ranks. They should never deign to speak for whichever group they're supporting. But...Allies aren't just background people. They're not just there to add numbers to your ranks and hold signs and bang drums. Allies fight. WWII would have ended completely differently if Allies didn't talk to each other, share tactics, and fight alongside each other. 

I'd like to also point out an secondary definition for the word ally:

"Biology. a plant, animal, or other organism bearing an evolutionary relationship to another, often as a member of the same family:

The squash is an ally of the watermelon." (x) 

If you're an ally, an true ally, you deserve a seat at the table with the rest of the family. 

It's not all black/white, gay/straight, cis/trans, man/woman. We need to cut these bullshit dichotomies' throats and stop separating when we should be uniting against a system that treats us all the same. 

We're all human. It's time we stand together. 

The Holidays are Upon Us!

As such, Meg and I decorated our first Christmas tree together last night! Have a look!

Yes, it's tiny and sits above our TV (and next to my piggy bank) but it's a Christmas tree with real actual ornaments on it! Hooray for us!

Bella (our cat) did not appreciate this tiny addition to our home when the decorating first began, and I was worried that a double homicide may have been imminent.  She refused to look at Meg and gave her the silent treatment for quite some time! (It is during this point that I assume Bella was plotting our murders.) 

But then Meg fed her dinner. I think the danger is over. 

***

Not much else to report of late. I've been picking up a bunch of extra shifts at work, which has been welcome. I've gotten to the point now where many customers can request their "usual" from me, and I know what drink they mean. Huzzah! 

I've also noticed people's tendency to tell me random things about their lives while I'm fixing their drinks. (Maybe I should look into being a bartender after my barista days are done?) I will leave you with the most amusing example from the past few days:

A woman told me she was going to go home and add some vodka to her mocha before she had to head over to an "annoyingly long" meeting at the local school.

Sounds like a fabulous way to stay warm during this winter chill to me :D

Happy Holidays, everyone!

-K

Turning the Pages

I'll be honest, I have no idea what to write about today. I just know that I need to write, and that today is scheduled to be a blogging day.

Yesterday was a Storymatic day. Are you familiar with Storymatic? It's a writing prompt tool. It has two sets of cards, one representing characters and the other representing scenarios. You draw two of each and come up with a story. A couple days / week, my 500 words will be drawn from storymatic cards. Yesterday taught me that I won't necessarily finish a story in 500 words (nor will I have the energy to write much more than that in one sitting...Yet!), but I'll continue the story over several days of writing if I have to and draw new cards when the first tale is done.

Yesterday, I drew the character cards of "Witness" and "One who is bullied." My other two cards were "Homesick" and "An inconvenient phobia." I came up with a character named Max Greeley who's dad runs a summer  camp. Max just turned 8, and it's his first year being able to attend the camp. He's being bullied a bit one his first day by his cabin mate, Nate, who found out he can really irritate Max by mentioning the fact that Max's father runs the camp. Their cabin councilor, Ashton, is going to play a role in the story, but I'm not sure what yet. He's just kind of...creepy, guess. For now. I'm pretty sure he has an interesting relationship with Mr. Greeley, Max's dad.

I'm hoping that the more I make myself write anything, something every day, the easier it will be to access the thoughts that I know I actually want to write about. I don't know why I can't access them immediately. It's like I have a sea of crap in between them and the thoughts that are currently escaping my head. The more important ones need to cook more, maybe. Or I just have to learn how to get this crap out before I can trust myself with other things. I'm not really sure what's happening. I just know that I have more to say than I'm currently able to.  I'm not sure what to do about it yet, but I'm hoping that taking this one small action towards being able to get my thoughts down again will help. I've also been making sure to journal a little something every day, which has been very helpful. I carry it and a few books with me pretty much everywhere I go.

Other than my writing block, I'm bopping along just fine...I work in an hour and a half, so naturally I'm still cocooned  in bed with a bowl of cereal. (Even though I work on Sundays, I still deserve a lazy Sunday morning!) I have lofty plans of buying some cat litter after work tonight, and maybe drinking some cheap wine or something...who knows.

One thing I do know is that I've successfully written at least 500 words for the past three days, and if that's not progress, I don't know what is :)

-K

It's Time

Trigger Warning: I'm going to be talking about my experience with anxiety and depression. If you don't want to read about my mental struggles, I completely understand and urge you to turn back now.

*  *  *

I've been falling through darkness for a while now. When I was a junior in college, I was floating in a pool one night, staring up into a starless, rainy Puerto Rican sky and I realized...I had no clue what I was doing in this life I was leading. And nobody up in that black sky was reaching their hand down to help me. That thought paralyzed me. I got drunk later that night and sobbed over the feeling of security I had suddenly lost. 

I wonder where I'd be right now if that thought, and the much darker ones that followed, hadn't taken over my brain for so long in college. 

I honestly thought I started getting over it after I came out of the closet a bit in the second semester of my senior year. I thought the darkness had passed and I'd be able to move on. I even started thinking about going to Law School and Studying for the LSAT! I got really busy with work and didn't end up taking the test, but I was also doing really well at work. And I loved my job at the time. 

But then my anxiety slapped me in the face again with a full-fledged breakdown this past February. (You can ask Meg about it, I don't remember much of what happened.) My frequent panic attacks came back worse than they were two years ago. I started hating my job and my life and never wanted to get out of bed. I only did because I felt like if I ever took sick days at work, all of my coworkers would despise me -- that pressure was slightly greater than my desire to cocoon myself away. (Most days.) 

There came a point this summer, though, that I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't get through a work day without either crying or having a panic attack. Burnt out at 22, I left my first post-grab job. 

I've spent the past several months getting some much needed R&R and realigning my headspace. I'm doing a lot better, but I have a lot of free time now that I'm not accustomed to. And rather than letting myself sleep or netflix it away like I want to, I'm going to be yanking myself the rest of the way out of this goddnamn depression by adding some structure into my un-scheduled life. I tried halfheartedly to do this last month and failed, but I'm going in with a pre-made plan of attack this time. 

From now until the Dec 20, I'm going to be writing at least 500 words / day, not necessarily a blog post every day, I do have other projects I'm working on, so don't expect daily updates here. I'm going to be doing some sort of exercise every day, be it ballet barre work, running, yoga, or something else. 

I'm detailing this plan here so that I have a whole bunch of people to hold me accountable. 

Expect frequent updates :) 

(If you don't get them at least weekly, you are allowed to pester me.) 

Here's to the next month! 

<3

One last thing -- If anyone read this post and wondered why I didn't talk to them about this while it was going on, I'm sorry. I'm only now learning how to put it into words. 

I Just Learned a Thing!

I have always been in love with water. There's just something about that medium that's freeing to me in a way that air never will be. I move too quickly for air, you see. It's too thin to contain me, so I end up looking wild and jerky whenever I move. Water is thicker. It holds me in place more firmly, caresses me, even, and allows me to take on the guise of grace. I've always been oddly buoyant, too, so I can float in water while exerting no effort. It's the only place I can fully relax all of my muscles -- laying in a bed doesn't feel as good as floating, raftless, through a lazy river.

Here's another, more interesting way that water and I are related: Water let's me see. Most of you probably know that air doesn't let me see very easily. I've had glasses since I was nine months old. One of the main things that's wrong with my vision is that when I fully relax, my left eye crosses. (This is due to an eye condition called esotropia, which for me is a combination of muscle/focusing issues.) Obviously, when my eye crosses, things go blurry. Oddly enough, when I go under water and open my eyes, my vision isn't blurry, and my eyes aren't crossed. (Obviously the water acts like a lens, but why does it have my prescription?!) It's bizarre, and I've never fully understood it.

Until now! 

I've started watching Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey on Netflix. This show is a 2014  reboot of Carl Sagan's show Cosmos that aired in 1980.   I had it described to me once as "Discovery Channel's Planet Earth -- But for EVERYTHING!" And, well, that's a very accurate description. I'm 26 minutes into the second episode, and I've had more mind explosions than I care to recount. I'm ready to go back to Episode 1, pull out a notebook, and take notes. 

Anyways, I just learned about the evolution of the eye, nothing I've ever really thought about before. As it turns out, the eye evolved to help our long, long, long, loooong ago ancestors to survive while they were still only living in water. The first creatures didn't venture out onto land until after the evolution of the eyeball. And, as previously mentioned, water acts like a lens. It bends light. So, when our ancestors first ventured out of water and onto land, they couldn't really see here either! 

So, considering that, evolutionarily speaking, humans haven't been around that long, I guess maybe I just have slightly under-evolved eyeballs. Somehow, characteristics of my eyes survived from the times when we were seeing underwater through today. 

Lucky me :) 

Hello, again!

Hey!

As you may have noticed, this blog went absent for quite some time. A lot of that had to do with the fact that Meg and I moved into a new apartment and got busy, and then it had to do with the fact that we didn't install wifi until a few weeks ago, and then I had to spend a lot of time figuring out a standard schedule for myself so that I can do adult things like work and laundry, as well as child things like watch Gilmore Girls on Netflix!

But I'm here and I'm still queer ready to actually try out this writing-things-down-for-all-to-see thing more regularly.

I'm not sure how present Meg will be, since she's really busy with her photo program, but we'll at least be sure to get some of her pictures up here for ya'll to see on occasion. I, on the other hand, work at a coffee shop that's a two minute walk away from my apartment...You'll be hearing from me again soon.

:)

Kara + Ballet = OW OW OW OW

For those of you who didn’t know, Meghan was a dancer for about seventeen years.  (Notable performances include Alice in her dance company’s rendition of Alice in Wonderland and Velma Kelly in her town’s production of Chicago…I like to brag about her.)  Anyways, this training has left Meghan with a sense of poise and grace that dancers tend to acquire.

I, on the other hand, have a motto: Kara Doesn’t Dance.

I am the opposite of poised. My mother used to very sarcastically call me her “little gazelle” as I tripped and stumbled through life, banging elbows on doorways that had been there my entire life, and falling up the (thankfully carpeted) staircase.  I have permanent bruises on my knees from falling down so often. My posture is shit, and I know it – I try to blame it on the fact that I was a swimmer for so long and “swimmers just have bad posture!” – but really I’m just lazy and don’t feel like changing my ways.

I was perfectly content stumbling through life in this manner, but the trouble is that I’m also starting to get into yoga and meditation. These things require stillness and control that I have never even attempted to learn. (They also require a flexibility that is far beyond my nature.)  In order to aid me in the process towards reaching my gazelle-like potential that my mother always knew I had in me…………..Meghan is giving me dance lessons. 

We’re starting off with the basics and just doing bar routines – pliés and such. And, dear lord, I have never been in so much pain. Remember, this is coming from someone who was a competitive long-distance swimmer since age six. Doing basic dance movements that six-year-old ballerinas can do reduces me to a shaking, sweating mess within minutes.  I am learning how to control muscles that I never knew I had. 

The benefits have not yet become automatic, but I have already noticed an improved awareness in what my body is doing when it is doing it, which is good, right?

Here’s hoping it pays off in the end!

-K

A Declaration

What’s stopping me?

“I’ll do it later.”

“I’ll start tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine.”

What am I waiting for?

Truthfully, I think I’m waiting for my epic moment to just HAPPEN. Like movies and books and plays and EVERYTHING that we’re taught to base our lives upon.  I’ll have an epiphany and burst into song or a gong will sound or a light bulb will appear atop my head and suddenly my life will start. 

But something is starting starting to tell me that’s not how it works.  THIS is my life and it’s happening right NOW.

Meghan just said that she wants to write a book where the hero gets through his/her plight due to sheer determination – think Elle Woods.  A Wam, Blam, get to work sort of person.  (And -- to those of you who don’t see Elle Woods as that sort of person -- bring it on.)  Anyways – what’s stopping me from being that person?!

I’m sick of telling myself that I’ll get to work later.

                                                            I’ll start tomorrow.

                                                                        Just one more episode!

This is me starting now. 

Bring it on.

Life Update #3

Hey ya'll!

It's been a busy week for the two of us.  We just launched the Moving Ship by getting Meg completely busted out of Vermont -- packed up her childhood room and everything. It was a lot.

But that's all done and we're cleaning house back here in Jerz!  We move into the new place TOMORROW!!!!

I'm so stoked.  We're going from one 400 square foot room with access to a kitchen and bathroom shared by 4 other people, to a 3 bed, 1 bath ALL BY OURSELVES.

With that in mind, I probably won't be putting up a Draco Feels tomorrow, but there will be plenty of New Apartment photos to see :)

-K

UPDATE:

One last thing to leave you with --

Draco Feels: The Stressful Years Begin (Part 3 of 6)

Yes, I finally determined how long this series is going to be! (Probably)

****

Last week, we discussed Draco Malfoy, the Ickle Firstie.  Now we're going to fast forward to...

Big, Bad, Death Eater Draco! 

Or, this guy:

Let's be honest, Draco's not much but a pompous pain in the butt for years two through five, but he suddenly gets very interesting in Half Blood Prince.  In order to fully grasp the changes that happen to him, we have to remember those very important lessons that he learned back in first year:

1. The world is not fair to Slytherins
2. You cannot really trust anyone to help you, except maybe another Slytherin 

These lessons hit Draco in full-force at the end of his fifth year -- if you recall, that was the year that the Death Eaters infiltrated the Ministry of Magic and battled with the DA and the Order.  At the end of it all, Lucius Malfoy, among others, was sent to Azkaban and fell in the graces of Voldemort.  Having grown up knowing that his father was in Voldemort's inner circle, and learning that "manliness" means just that, the sudden shift from top dog to chum would have been striking for the sixteen year old.  

A lot happens for Draco in the summer between his fifth and sixth years at Hogwarts -- we obviously don't know all the details, but we can assume that he and his mother were feeling the strain from their loss of Lucius and their fall from grace.  Draco, as the new "man of the house" since his father's arrest, would have been especially tormented. Had these books been written about Draco rather than Harry, Lucius' arrest would have been that pivotal moment where the protagonist learns that even the adults he trusts most are fallible.  So, what does he do? He seeks to prove himself to Voldemort.  He can step up, be a man, and be everything that his father failed to be.  He is young, determined, and full of that youthful sense if invulnerability.  It is this version of Draco that we next encounter on the train going to Hogwarts.

This Draco is more smug that usual -- as I said, he's the new man of his house.  And he's finally been able to step up and prove that he can be a real man (which, to him, means a Death Eater.)  More importantly, this Draco has an assignment straight from Voldemort so that he can finally prove that he can be even more of a man than his father was.  Unlike blundering Lucius, Draco will succeed where everyone else has failed.  He will help the Death Eaters infiltrate Hogwarts, and he will single handedly kill Albus Dumbledore.  And, if he doesn't...the consequences will be severe.  But Draco's youthful confidence will not let him think of failure just yet -- he has a job to do.  

We can most clearly see his new kind of smugness in his interactions with Harry in the beginning of the year. In years past, Harry has easily bested Draco in duels and, if we're being honest, in most aspects of  Hogwarts life.  This new Draco, though, is feeling powerful, and he shows that in a very clear way -- he easily petrifies an invisibility cloak clad Harry and steps on his face, breaking his nose.  (This incident is summarized beautifully in the song In Which I Kick Harry Potter in the Face by Draco and the Malfoys. Listen here!)  Sadly for Draco, this feeling of power doesn't last long...

****

Thanks for reading, guys!  

Next week I'll finish up going through canon Malfoy with some analysis of the end of HBP and DH (Draco's Downfall, if you will.)

After that, we start delving into a different territory and discuss Draco as a Foil Character...but to Who?! (Spoiler: It's not Harry.) 

On Being Nice -- OR -- An Accidental Rant on Rape Culture

Sorry I'm not sorry for the sudden turn this post takes...

-K

***

So, I was watching Dance Moms the other day...
(That's how all the intellectual folks start off blog posts, right?)

Anyways, one of the moms (don't ask me who, I'm not hooked enough to know their names) said something along the lines of, "Well, it can't hurt to be nice to her!"  And that got me thinking.

Does it really ever hurt to be nice to people?!  Sure, all you pragmatic folks are thinking "Yes!" and will cite examples from pop culture where altruistic heroes are "too nice" to the bad guys and blah, blah, blah.  Or maybe you'll cite evidence from your love life where you trusted someone and they tore your heart out anyways. Sure, that stuff happens.  But is it really the fault of the nice person that their actions backfire like that? NO!

When it comes down to it, we really just need to nix the idea that one can ever be too nice or too polite, because that's not the problem at all.  The idea that one can get hurt by being too nice is exactly the same idea that sometimes rape victims are asking for it. Maybe you're thinking that's too far of a jump, but I certainly don't.  Our patriarchal rape culture is exactly the reason we tend to think it's the fault of the nice person when some jerk causes them pain because "they should have expected it." And we make judgments like that all the time.

Let's take a look at some examples, shall we?

• Sirius didn't die because Harry is "too nice" and has a "saving people thing," he died because Death Eaters are assholes.
• Regina didn't cast the Curse because Snow White was "too nice" and didn't execute her when she had the chance, she cast the Curse because she's an asshole. (Save the hate, Evil Regals, I'm just making a point! I know, poor hurt baby Regina, poor Daniel, etc, etc.)
• He didn't break your heart because you were "too nice" and let him get close, he broke your heart because he's an asshole.

Do you see the trend here? It's shocking how completely the problem of victim blaming has seeped into our culture.  We are so quick to say "It was my own fault that I got hurt" rather than "Gosh, that person's a meanie-butt and hurt me!" 

It's time that this trend ends.  Let's call a spade a spade and an asshole an asshole.  Together, we can nix the idea of being "too nice" and "too kind" for good, and eventually overthrow the patriarchy!! 

To lighten the mood, I leave you with Guys Like Potter from A Very Potter Sequel!

"So many douche bags in the world..."

Malfoy Feels -- Let's Explore Sorcerer's Stone! (Part 2 of ???)

First off, I would like to apologize for the lateness of this post -- life popped up again! And I now find myself in a hotel room in Connecticut without my Harry Potter books to consult as I cobble together my thoughts and feelings on the one and only Draco Lucius Malfoy.

Art by Katikut on DeviantArt

Let's revisit the Draco Malfoy we all know and love to hate, shall we? 

The first time we see young master Malfoy, he is a wee eleven year old getting fitted for school robes all by his lonesome in in Madam Malkin's shop.  He appears, for all intents and purposes, to be a very sweet little boy, attempting to chat with Harry about Hogwarts houses and the all-important sport of Quidditch as they get fitted side-by-side.  His attempts to make polite conversation show A) How excited he is to be finally going to Hogwarts and B) How genuinely friendly this little boy his.  He knows absolutely nothing about who Harry is or what sort of upbringing he had, yet he talks to him anyways. Sure, he spews off a bit of his parents' ideology regarding muggle born witches and wizards and is shocked by the sight of Hagrid waiting for Harry, but...he's eleven.  Those things are bound to happen.  The important thing is that, for all Malfoy knows, he's chatting amicably to Justin Finch-Fletchley or Ernie Macmillan rather than Harry "Freakin" Potter, and he treats him like a potential friend nonetheless.  

The second time we see Malfoy is the infamous scene on the Hogwarts Express where he extends a hand of friendship to Harry.  Harry obviously turns him down, Scabbers bites Crabbe in the finger, and a series-long animosity is born.  One thing I would like to point out in this scene, however, is that, though Draco does begin his offer of friendship with a bit of a scathing remark about the Weasley family, Harry is no less culpable in this scene when it comes to prejudice.  His main reasons for disregarding Draco's hand of friendship is that the young lad reminds him a bit too much of Dudley Dursley.  In this case, Harry is citing a prejudice all of his own, whereas Draco simply regurgitates his father's way of identifying Ron as a Weasley, something that I am hesitant to blame an eleven year old for.

Throughout the rest of the first book, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle begin fulfilling their destiny as a foil trio, causing mischief and making Harry, Ron and Hermione dislike them. The eleven year old Draco, however, does only two "reprehensible" things to the trio this year.  The first is very early on in the book when he challenges Harry to a duel, most likely due to a bruised ego after Harry denies his friendship and then goes on to break rules and get rewarded for it by a spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team!!! That's not how things are supposed to work!!!! So Draco sets Harry up to break rules and actually get punished for it (and fails.)

The second bit of mischief he does isn't actually mischief at all.  He overhears word from the trio that THERE IS A DRAGON IN THE CASTLE! Little Draco then borrows a book from Harry with a letter from Charlie Weasley inside of it illustrating a plan to SMUGGLE SAID DRAGON OUT OF THE CASTLE! WITHOUT TELLING ANYONE OF AUTHORITY! Please take a moment to put yourself in Draco's position.  You find out that there is a dragon in the castle. You're eleven.  You have been raised to obey authority and conduct yourself with a sense of propriety. Also, IT'S A DRAGON!!! So, yeah, duh, Draco does the responsible thing and tells Professor McGonagall about this plan.  She's the main trio's head of house, after all, and perhaps she can do something.  By reporting the dragon problem, Draco loses a bundle of house points for Slytherin and gets detention (which is totally unfair since all he did was report a problem), and this, I think, marks a turning point in Draco's development.

From here on out, Draco acts with much more vindictiveness towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  He learned from that experience that perhaps the world isn't fair, even to little rich boys.  He starts going to only Professor Snape, the Slytherin head of house, for his troubles rather than trusting McGonagall again. He starts calling Hermione a "filthy Mudblood," and, all in all, plays a little dirtier to get what he wants.  Even so, he remains pretty harmless up until Half Blood Prince, where things start getting a little bit stressful for our favorite bleach-blonde boy...

More on that next week :)

Malfoy Feels...Our Journey Begins (Part 1 of ???)

So, as Meghan mentioned during her Life Update post, I recently had an intense bout of feels for none other than Draco Malfoy.

Like, book Draco Malfoy. Not the beautiful Tom Felton whose lovely face was so marred by tears and torment...

Poor little dear...

It's easy to feel for that!! But never have I ever before felt real feelings of compassion for Draco Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, the one who sneers "mudblood" to Hermione, the one who is so dark that Harry suspects he is the Heir of Slytherin, right out of the books.

It all started with the fanfic that Meg and I are reading aloud to each other (because we're cooler that sliced bread in a freezer) called Harry Potter and the Power of Emotion. (Go read it. It's fabulous. It's pre HBP, so no horcruxes or hallows and its wonderful and exactly how it should have been.) So, anyways, we've been taking turns reading the story aloud to each other, and Malfoy obviously plays a role in it. This author is really fabulous at sticking to the characters' personalities as they had been displayed in the books up in until the end of OotP, so her Malfoy got me thinking about what JKR's Malfoy could have been had he reacted been differently to the events in OotP.

Follow me so far?

Okay, so long story short, I have developed an immense respect for Draco Malfoy's character, development, brainpower, as well as athletic skill and a few other things.  It's amazing what sitting down and really thinking hard about a character can produce.

I want to share my Malfoy Feels with you all, so, if you wouldn't mind, come on a journey with me.  I plan on writing a series in a few parts detailing why Draco Malfoy is indeed a good guy. A very good guy. Who deserves our love!!!

We'll start off easy, and next Friday I will post an analysis of Draco's actions in Half Blood Prince, verses everything they could have been (complete, probably, if I have time, with book citations.)  After that, we will delve into my brainspace a little more intently.

I hope you enjoy :)

Kara's Musings -- The LGBT "Community"

I've always been confused by the concept of "Community" in the LGBT world.  Before I came out, I often wondered about the logistics of this community.  Do you get a card? Do they throw you a welcoming party once you finally join by coming out of the closet? Where do they meet up? Is there a secret handshake?! I marveled at the idea of finally feeing included in community bars and events.  I waited on the edge of my seat to make all these new community friends and bonds.

And then I came out.

And, let me tell you, not much happened.  I got no sassy gay best friend.  My "gaydar" didn't pop on to tell me which, if any, people in my life might now be interested in dating me.  The "community," it seemed, was ignoring me.  But what did happen was that I slowly became more aware of and enveloped into an online world of activism and awareness.  And I'm still stuck here wondering...what makes us a "Community?"

First of all, there really isn't that much concession on who "belongs" inside of this community of sexual deviance.  Yes, we have the standard "LGBT," which everyone knows means Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender. (Or is it Transsexual?! And, do Bi people really exist?!?! Do they belong?!)  And then you have the occasionally tacked on Q, for questioning. (Or, wait a moment, is it for "Queer?")  Last but not least, the also occasional A, for our our asexual friends!

But what about the agenders? The polysexuals? The sadomasochists? The bilinguals?! The straight people who just want to belong?! (I'm looking at you, "Allies").  Where does the alphabet end? Where does the inclusion stop?

I often get frustrated with the hodgepodge of letters thrown into our gender and sexuality alphabet soup.  I understand the need for true "questioning" folks to be able to go for help and information, but do our straight cisgender allies really need to be here?  (Don't get me wrong, straight cisgender friends, I love you. You have the ability to make babies, and that's cool. But why are you in my Pride parade?)  Are we at the point where sexual deviancy and gender deviancy need to be divided into different communities? Why should a straight transgender person care about the right for gay and bisexual people to marry?

There are those, however, who believe it is best for our community to grow even further and take charge of the public. In Queer Revolution not Mere Inclusion, organized by group Against Equality, author Kate Bornstein makes an interesting point in her "Open Letter to LGBT Leaders Who Are Pushing Marriage Equality."  She states that this "inclusive alphabet bullshit," as I tend to call it, may actually be a good thing:

"Looking into the community of people who base their lives on sexuality and gender, there's a lot of door opening to do.  Beyond L, G, B, and T, there's also Q for queer and Q for questioning.  There's an S for sadomasochists, an I for intersex, an F for feminists, and another F for furries.  Our community is additionally composed of sex educators, sex workers, adult entertainers, pornographers, men who have sex with men, women who have sex with women, and asexuals who have sex with no one but themselves.  You want to create some real change?  Make room for genderqueers, polyamorists, radical faeries, butches, femmes, drag queens, drag kings, and other dragfuck royalty too fabulous to describe in this short letter.

There are more people to add to this ever-growing list of communities whom you must own as family and represent in your activism.  You cannot afford -- politically, economically, or morally -- to leave out a single person who bases a large part of their identity on being sex positive or in any way a proponent on gender anarchy." 25-26

 It is that last point, that we cannot afford "politically, economically, or morally" to leave out all the fringe groups that might not initially seem to fit into this "community," that pulls my attention most.  Who are we, the fringe societies, to say who does and who does not belong?  If we truly fight for liberation and revolution, we need all the soldiers we can get.  So let's make room for everyone who wants to get involved and mix this alphabet soup up as much as it can get.

(Except, straight cisgender allies, I still don't know if you belong in my pride parade...)

Who are we and what are we doing here?

Hello and welcome to our blog!

Yes, we are that couple who started a blog together. No, we are not here to post sappy pictures of us overlooking momentous sunsets together or share memories of first apartments.  We're in our first apartment right now. It's shit and we have no desire to share the memory of it with you.  Instead, we'll wait till we're off to our second apartment in September.

Instead, we are here to think, to learn, to analyze, and to explore.  Not only that, but it will be a creative outlet for us as well to share photography, our writing, plus some ranting and, if we're being honest, plenty of sappy memories of one couple venturing toward adulthood together.


We hope you enjoy.

<3

Kara and Meg