of pride and genocide

i have a complicated relationship with pride. i have enjoyed many massive (and not so massive) gatherings of queer folks celebrating the work it took to get to the point of being less likely to get killed to go flirt. i like to think of pride as one of those memorial moments kind of holidays. when we get to recognize those who came before us who fought for where we are now and recognize the work still to be done. a time to celebrate, but also, perhaps, a time to re-gather re-focus as we re-member for the next push. to let those who come after us know “here are our shoulders, please climb up and go beyond us.” for, as fannie lou hamer taught us, “nobody is free until everybody’s free”.

and in the words of marsha p. johnson, “no pride for some of us without liberation for all of us.”

i came fully disillusioned with pride with marriage equality, or equality in general. for me, that was the moment of full-on assimilation politics in queer activism. fighting for “gay marriage” did not give queer folks the same rights as hetero marriage. lawsuit after lawsuit proved that. partners denied healthcare, deported, denied housing, fired. hell, some have even been about who makes the fucking wedding cake!…as far as i can tell, it just adjusted how you might file your taxes. sure, it varies from state to state, job to job. who did benefit? companies who make money off the celebrations. as i’ve said before…i’m all for celebrating people making public the desire to make a go of a consensual committed relationship, however that looks to those involved.

gay marriage was also, perhaps, a reaction to those white middle-classish gays/lesbians reaching for the american dream. i mean, how many times in my early coming out days did people respond with “ya that’s fine, but i’m sad because you’ll never experience marriage and kids…” my usual response was a shrug, but in my head was “who said i wanted any of that?”*

anyway, i’ve gotten distracted…pride has become a piece of the assimilation…rainbow capitalism.

but last night i went to a kick-off to pride event in el paso. it was at the neep collective, a place that has built up a collection of food trucks around an outdoor bar that also includes a decent amount of n/a options. there is a stage, outside games, misting fans, and shade.i had been wanting to check it out, i was hungry, and this seemed a good reason to make the journey south.

i had a nice time.

i had some vegan foods (even dessert), some good bevies, the non-food vendors were not just a bunch of rainbow paraphernalia. various artists were selling their goods. in fact, really, the only rainbow stuff was at the local pride organization’s table, which is fitting.

between bands, the woman who organizes, maybe one of the owners or managers, came up to the mic to make some announcements and thank people for coming out (i don’t think there was a pun intended there). she said a goal of creating neep, was to create a safe space for people, and she got a little teary with that. and i think that may have been what brought me out last night, i needed a safer place for just a couple hours. a moment where there was one less thing i would have to look over my shoulder about or filter what i overheard around me.

i’ve had mixed feelings about celebrating anything lately with the genocide in gaza escalating exponentially since october. let’s be clear this genocide has been going on since 1948. and it is not the only one happening right now.

i’ve been reflecting on what we have done in the past when other such atrocities have been happening, and one constant has been that we must also keep living and creating. while we celebrate, we must bring other voices with us, just as we must bring all parts of ourselves. i recently found an interesting piece of inspiration in albert camus. i stumbled across his essay called “create dangerously: the power and responsibility of the artist”.

there are a few lines that hit in a particular way, “…beauty has never enslaved anyone. quite the opposite. on every day, at every moment, for thousands of years, beauty has consoled millions of people in their servitude, and, sometimes even freed some of them forever.”

we find this tension between beauty and pain over and over again in stories of not just the tortured artist, but in music, poetry, and traditional stories throughout the ages of survival and triumph of the “common folk”.

it is this final paragraph of the essay that hits hard for me, …” hope is awakened, given life, sustained, by the millions of individuals whose deeds and actions, every day, break down borders and refute the worst moments in history, to allow the truth – which is always in danger – to shine brightly, even if only fleetingly, the truth, which every individual builds for us all, created out of suffering and joy.”

again, this tension is something all of us hold whether we consider ourselves artists or not. it is the beauty we each hold within us, our purpose in life is to create, to participate in the beauty that is in this world full of life.

i feel that the queer community, specifically those of us who want to break down the gender binary (hell, let’s be honest, all binaries) has a unique opportunity. we should be able to see through the pink and rainbow washing used to manipulate us into being against the people of gaza. on a personal note, it was a group of queer jewish people, born in israel that deepened my awareness of what has been happening in palestine. they had even been part of the israeli military as required by the government. speaking out and letting people know what has been happening, they believed was part of their responsibility.

it is for these reasons that i believe it is important to use this time, the month of pride, when we are given more opportunities to speak out and up, to use this privileged place to speak out for those whose voices are being drowned out. when those using social media to inform us around the world about the violence perpetrated by those using mass media to lie and manipulate, to literally kill the press and justify violence, we use art, beauty, creativity to shine a light on the truth. as queer folk, we have a unique lens to project the stories needed to get out.

those of us who have any leverage of privilege, of a platform within our oppression, have a responsibility to use it. freedom, such as it is, does have a responsibility. it is what true democracy looks like. true democracy is taking to the streets, or writing a story, or speaking out, dancing, or more than anything, listening when others are saying “this is wrong and here is what needs to happen”. instead of saying not all ______ say yup we are also complacent and responsible regardless of intention. as long as we live in this system, we have to be accountable.

for that is where assimilation politics is really masterful. “here is your right to____, now get in line behind us”. and we do. we get in line and pay the taxes that pay for the bombs, the soldiers, the cops. for if the right to ____ really made a difference, we would not have been “given” it. we will never be given a right that gives us any leverage to actually change the system that depends on obedience….so disobey. create. create dangerously. like your life depends on it, because your authentic, the life that truly matters, does.

so yes, i think, pride in a time of genocide is possible, but it should not be just another decadent over-priced party.

*full disclosure. i did have a commitment ceremony with my first partner-partner. in a way it was part of a joke. a story i can tell you some day if your interested, but mostly it was one of those things you do in a relationship, sometimes, a compromise that seemed fine. it was extremely important to her, i didn’t think one way or another then. it wasn’t a legal issues, just us making a public commitment to one another…an agreement and an ask for support for those who attended. when that agreement ended, so did the relationship. no lawyers or paperwork needed. just the mending of two broken hearts.

**disobedience looks different for us all. i don’t know that taking to the streets is for me anymore. i’ve done so much of that already but never say never. for some it can be encampments on campus (we built shanty towns in response to the apartheid in south africa), it can be marches, signs outside as we picket a company or government. it can be making food behind the scenes, or hugs when our friends return, it is self-care, its child-care, elder care, its fighting for clean air and water so we have a future to live in, it can be stepping in when someone says something harmful, its learning what our neighbor needs to feel safer, if the power goes out are they on some life giving system that needs attention, does their battery on an motorized wheelchair need charged/changed, or refrigerated medication. maybe it is a long run or bike ride to feel better prepared to face the world on a regular basis, (i see you, fellow customer service folks who experience the best and worse in people every dang day and it is exhausting), its teachers, its feeding yourself, or family,….there are endless ways to take action. each persons’ gift is unique. this is no place for shame. just please respond grounded and intentional.

assimilation politics

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i had the fortune to see gloria anzaldua lecture once. it was at the queer studies conference in iowa city. she was one of the keynote speakers. she gave a lecture i shared often when i was asked to guest lecture on identity.

anzaldua spoke on identity, of knowing who you are. she used an analogy of thinking of yourself as a tree. your identity as the roots that hold you firmly in place. you must know all these parts of you, and own them, accept them. otherwise, when those mighty cultural winds come, and they will come, you will get blown away.

i go back to this lecture frequently. especially as i change and grow as this culture continues to try and box people in and tell us who we are… it’s a marketing strategy. i especially think about it when i try to sort out identity politics. i’ve never been a fan of identity politics.

do my politics influence my idenity, or does my identity influence my politics?

should they even be connected?

for me knowing who i am and what i stand for is key to simply moving in this world.

but should this be a factor in politics?

i should be voting for someone because they are going to guide our community in a good way. in a way that helps our community be a healthy and thriving community with good roads and schools. that makes sure that we have clean air and clean water. to find ways for all who want shelter to have a safe place to find rest.

is this possible in capitalist culture?

my idenity of being queer, or female, or the color of my skin should never have become a part of our politics, and it saddens me that these are the issues that have become our rallying cries every couple of years.

every couple of years the issues shift and change, distracting us from what could really build stronger healthier communities. they make us fight for our right to exist instead of why we have allowed fracking and other extractive industries that are polluting our groundwater and poisoning all it comes in contact with.

don’t get me wrong, we need to fight these anti-trans bills, anti-abortion, anti-immigration, well anything that is anti-some human beings trying to live. but these issues should never have gotten into the political ring.

so i’ve been thinking about anzaldua’s lecture on identity, trees, and roots.

in a healthy intact forest, those roots of individual trees are tangled in with other roots of other trees, and bushes, and plants, and rocks and mycelium, of micro-organisms. all these roots are forms of communication and interaction. they help other trees they aren’t even near. they can send nourishment when another tree is ailing, or warn them of an incoming threat.

this is community

this is community organizing. those roots don’t care what kind of plant they are sharing information and nourishment with. they simply do it to keep a healthy thriving forest.

maybe this is one reason i feel safer in an intact ecosystem then i do in a city.

it is also why i feel that voting in our current system is a “what’s the point” kind of practice.

voting is another way of assimilation. in fact, if one follows the suffragist movements in this country, it is only after a particular group has assimulated enough that they get to vote. or we let them vote as long as they pay taxes, and stay in line.

a two-party system whose purpose is to keep power concentrated is never going to have a system that will bring about its own demise. it is rigged to ensure there is some small measure of pavlovian treats handed out while they continue to beat us for not playing the game correctly.

what’s more, is that it feels to me that this need to keep narrowing down identities keeps us fighting and diverting OUR personal and collective resources fighting one another so we don’t pay attention to those empowered committing genocide with our votes and tax dollars. it is a political divide and conquer/conquer and divide strategy that has never ended.

i’m not saying don’t vote.

also not saying do vote.

do what you need to do.

but when we have a government calling citizens who are fighting fascists in this country, domestic terrorists, we have a deep-seeded problem that is not going to go away at the ballot box.

this is a battle that is going to have to go deep into our roots, to what connects us to one another, and all other living beings. not as a democren or republicrate, but as a living being in community.

it starts with ourselves, knowing who we are, what nourishes us. what do we, as individuals and collectively need to say no to, in order to say yes to another world?

hammock therapy

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i have started to consider this past summer as my season of hammock therapy. i spent a fair amount of time in my hammock reading…lots and lots of reading, but mostly i listened.

i heard the early morning birds, the late night birds, the coyotes, i listened for the lobos that are returning. i heard animals walking through the dry grass. the wind through the trees and the ropes holding me aloft. i heard rivers and streams, and the ground soaking in the rain.

and i heard my breath.

i heard my heart pumping.

i got quiet and still

i searched inward.

i’ve never really gone to formal therapy, for various reasons. and it is only recently that i have thought of hammock time as therapy time, and since i have, it makes me wonder how do people go to therapy for an hour once a week or once a month and heal what they are working on? no judgement, just wonder. for me, spending a coupe hours out hiking or biking or running for my “therapy” i feel great for the rest of the day, maybe two or three. then i can see myself sliding back into the behaviors and habits.

i guess some professions call this extended time away from work as a sabbatical. i saved up money so i wouldn’t have to “work” for a period of time, and this time i had a project to work on, and that project was me. i knew i couldn’t keep doing what i’ve been doing, but didn’t know what other options i had.

spending this time out of social bounds, i felt more connected to place than i have in maybe ever. unlike the other adventures i’ve gone on, this one had no itinerary no agenda or theme, so if i fell into the silver city vortex, no one was waiting for me to come up and out. i opened and allowed specific places to totally captured my heart. places i will return to again and again in some way. places i want to build relationships with.

what broke apart in me in my hammock sessions are the walls i’ve spent decades building as a buffer to a world that i do not understand. it seemed easier and easier to put up another brick then realize that the systems in place will never address the issues of violence and injustice i have spent a lifetime fighting.

swinging, suspended in the air, i no longer felt separate from but a belonging to. my identity larger then the labels i claimed or the ones slapped on me. i was beginning to get a glimpse of what liberation could feel like. out here i always feel safer. nature never bullied or beat me for being queer.

what i feel and believe is that i thought i wanted to decolonize myself: my mind, my automatic thoughts and ideas about the world and the beings in it. and i guess that is part of it. but i don’t want to de-anything. i want to re. i want to reconnect. relearn. release the unnecessary…re-member and the only way i can do that is by paying attention to what is out there that truly matters like the birds that greet me at times of day. the sun and moon and planets as they move in their cycles. how my cycles and moods and energy levels switch in rhythm with them. these are the things they didn’t teach me in school. i am learning them from beautiful beings that have been on this journey for along time and are sharing their knowledge. i am learning that these are now the keys for me to unlock something that got lost and hidden in me before i was even born.

in the opening of the essay“no spiritual surrender”, klee benally writes “For Diné there is no dichotomy between spirit and nature, we are of this Earth, and so where there is an environmental crisis there is also a social crisis.” he goes on to explain that there can be no justice on stolen land. where the land/water/air is being violated via resource extraction, there is also exploitation of humans and other lives. it is no wonder we have an epidemic of disconnection. we see it in the numbers addicted to so many substances and behaviors, as well as extensive levels of depression, anxiety, isolation, suicide…

so back to the hammock mind. back to the places i feel whole. my feet on dry land or river beds and ocean shorelines. back to my breath. back to knowing where the sun, moon, and planets are in their cyclical dances. back to my heart. how do i take this feeling into everyday life and language? how do i keep from sliding back into contributing to a capitalist mindset? how do i live in this culture engaged in an abusive relationship. how do we keep this revolution from being commodified like che t-shirts sold at the GAP and rainbow capitalism? can we use this connection to subvert capitalism and the separation and violence it brings with it?

i want to explore how we can break down language and words to get to the stories that got us so fucked up and hating, justified though “science” and language, nationalism, pride, glorified violence. can we tell a different story thank reconnects us?

what is your hammock moment?

activate me

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i’ve lived long enough that i am seeing cycles a couple generations before me, and now, a couple after me. i’ve experienced the pandemics hiv and covid. south africa’s violent apartheid, isreal and their genocide against palestine. i don’t even know how many genocides there have been since they said “never again”. i feel like i’ve been protesting wars and violence my whole dang life. also, the homeless crisis has only gotten deeper. you’d think that capitalism depends on this caste to raise the upper caste even higher. women’s reproductive freedom. people to safely love whom they love, and then there is the climate…

last night i went and saw the film aristotle and dante discover the secretes of the universe, based on the book by benjamin alire sáenz, who talked before the showing of the film. (he grew up here and the story is set in el paso…so you know…local connections) it was a delightfully emotional evening.

the film opens with a dedication to all who had to learn to live by different rules.

and with those simple words, my stomach clenched, and with a smile, the tears began.

feels like my life has been made of trying to figure out my rules to live by and those to break.

i’m learning that my queer vegan adventures project has been my way of sorting myself out and finding those corners of hidden places that i have been trying to keep from surfacing that keep me from looking past the superficial anger, rage, frustration, fears, judgments… my rules of engagement that i let keep me from me and how i relate to community. and now i am learning to be able to witness these external cycles with a different internal lens. one of the questions that has come up this month is why am i an activist and why do i try to surround my self with people who live intentionally to not feed these violent cycles?

i mean, if you look at the footage of these actions, we look really mad and we are yelling and signing, shouting and laughing, wearing masks in case of tear gas, we have street medics to assist people when the violence erupts from the other side of the line…why? so why do we keep showing up year after year generation after generation?

somehow we want to get people to turn and look and care just enough to listen to what we are trying to say.

the answer i found, much to the surprise of my mind, is love. not the unicorn farting rainbows and glitter love, but love filled with empathy and compassion for people, the planet, all the creatures we share this gift of a planet with, land, the waters, the freaking cosmos…all of it is love. pure and simple.

the vision i created when i learned about visionary fiction, a kind of fiction written by activists, people who envision a world where we can ALL bring our whole selves to…i mean that is pretty fucking beautiful and terrifying. people without labels, just names they like to be called by, getting to do the things that bring them joy, mostly i see people trying new activities and us all laughing at the failures until we find our own ways to do whatever it is we want to learn. i see everything reused and repurposed. a healthy well-fed community with clean air and water to grow and thrive in with big beautiful colorful gardens. no fancy technology or gadgets. just people enjoying life and relations. being creative as hell!

how do we get there?

if you could envision your community where you, could bring your whole self to…what does it look like? i’d like to know.

just a moment in time

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yemen

who would have thought it

i’ve been looking for who is doing what needs to be done in this moment

honestly

i’ve been deeply pissed off and i can’t say disappointed because none of it is surprising, but i just

it never cieses to amaze me how wacked the industrial world is

for 75 day…for 75 years, israel has been inflicting genocidal violence on the palestinian people. now bombing the shit out of gaza, with no concern even for their own people caught in the crossfire

on top of it cop28 was held in dubie… one of if not the most oil rich state in the world, with the most fossil fuel lobbyist ever in attendance for a global conference on the climate crisis? seriously?

then

then the person of the year is announced by time magazine, and it is taylor swift…again?

and the word of the year is rizz so i guess that does go together, but really?

the world is coming together in support of palestine in so many ways. taking to the streets. calling for global general strikes. mass demonstrations all over the world. major boycotts that are having major impacts.

and then there is yemen

yemen. an impoverished arab state with a humanitarian crisis of its own, and what do they do? they perhaps take the biggest stand/risk of any nation-state. they block all ships wanting to move supplies through the red sea, forcing them to reroute around the continent of africa! this has huge corporation like bp to stop shipping in the area. bp who has held huge fossil fuel contracts with israel (as does the eu, great britain, and the u.s.

if yemen can do this

if the journalists of palestine can risk their lives every moment of every day so we can be informed

if the palastinian artists can still find ways to sing and create moments of joy

if the sun still rises

and the seasons still turn

what can i do

what do i risk

what i want to say here is, there are so many things going on in the world right now and so many capitalist distractions to keep us from taking action but making sure we go holiday shopping. so many feelings that make me freeze in my steps to the point i feel like i just can’t move

and then

yemen

yemen found their point of power in the situation, the thing they could do.

i want to be like yemen

i don’t have much to offer, but i do have a vision

and in this vision i can see who i want to support and how i can do that isn’t always evident, but i am learning about where i want to put my money (not that i have much) how i want to get my food, what i want to read, listen to (silence, birds, rain), the pace i want to move my life…these things we each have when we strip away the distractions and reveal our own true and deep values not attached to should’s or suppose to’s, but to that inner knowing. i hope in these times, as in all times, you are finding that stillness in yourself that gives space to go out in the world and be your unique you.

p.s. my person of the year would be courtney dewalter, or sally mcrae, or maybe alok, or the whole crew of reservation dogs, or maybe it is all my good pals that inspire me to get up each day. but really, why do we want to put one person at the top of a list every fucking year? none of them got there on their own. it takes all of us so lets celebrate the coming light of a new season.

p.p.s. i also don’t know why we need a word of the year. go out there and use all of them. make some up. be your own dictionary