deep.

benazir bhutto is dead.

wow.

she was the first female political figure i ever knew. before winnie mandela, before margaret thatcher. the first. a brown woman. a liberator. a symbol of democracy and justice.

even when she was called down for corruption and deposed, she was still one of the few female figures in world politics dominated by bosnia, nato, haiti, china and taiwan, etc.

granted, she was corrupt. nepotism and accepting bribes were part of her practice and she was oppressive. but not initially. initially she represented freedom of choice, liberty, hope.

even in this election she was a symbol of democracy against an opponent who is a military leader and who just recently released control of the army (in addition to arresting opponents and removing supreme court justices).

she was strong. determined. brilliant. and resilient. she was a complex political figure with a long history in pakistani politics. and i am saddened by her death.

mary pumps the positivity

i can't sit still when this plays...
finefinefinefinefinefine- oooh!
cuz i like what i see when i'm looking at me when i'm walking past the mirror...
i won't change my life, my life's just fine!

(it doesn't hurt that michael's jamming alongside her in the tux.)

thanksgiving

met the parents and family... they were such fun and very sweet people. so things are moving on their rapid way and i wonder if that means to a rapid demise. i hope not, but life is unpredictable in the main- maybe it's actually predictable in the main and only unpredictable sometime. in any case, in this instance i leave our relationship in the realm of the enjoyably, solidly, unpredictable. his mom's funny and kind, his dad's sweet and kind, his sister's really chill and his brother's a pretty hot military gay. plus his grandma's down-to-earth and approachable. he likes my grandma, too. oh yeah, he met some of my family the day before. that also went well.

we fed him chinese food. they did the traditional thanksgiving thing. it was sweet. the desserts really were a treat- especially the vegan chocolate peanut bomb. wow.

after we left, i got myself a bacon cheeseburger and loaded potato skins. excellence.

some e.e. cummings

my sweet old etcetera
aunt lucy during the recent

war could and what
is more did tell you just
what everybody was fighting

for,
my sister

isabel created hundreds
(and
hundreds) of socks not to
mention shirts fleaproof earwarmers

etcetera wristers etcetera, my
mother hoped that

i would die etcetera
bravely of course my father used
to become hoarse talking about how it was
a privilege and if only he
could meanwhile my

self etcetera lay quietly
in the deep mud et

cetera
(dreaming,
et
cetera, of
Your smile
eyes knees and of your Etcetera)



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


since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
--the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

- both poems from 100 selected poems by e.e. cummings
_____________________________________________________


being a sentimentalist, i chose these two poems.

when cummings wrote his poems, did he aspire to greatness or to just write? was he influenced by others? had he studied poetry extensively? when viewing his work, did he see through the lens of structural rules established through academic study? was every word positioned strategically, or was the process more organic- an innate talent?

i'm sure there has been exposition of his method in some book or article out there. maybe he has discussed it himself. i guess i'll take a look around.

if anyone reads this and wants to add a favorite cummings poem to this post or information about his method, please do.

school

either i'm the biggest dummy or i'm just not cutting it. ok. granted i've only gotten A's in my grading. but i wrote my draft abstract for my master's project. yes, it was a very rough draft. my preceptor took a look at it and then wrote a two-pager which eliminated most of the language i used and every place where i'd gotten creative with describing the study's parameters! to make it worse, he used 'track changes,' so i can see every little part of my work that he discarded. ouch.

maybe it's because i think i'm a pretty good writer that makes this feel like such an affront. i want to revise his revision and eliminate almost everything that he did, out of spite. i can't do that though... i'm in this position to learn and this is a huge lesson.

LESSON:
an abstract for a study or a paper is not an introduction for an essay.

just when you think you know some shit, you learn you don't know nearly as much shit as you think you do.

blah.

i need to catch up on everything...

male aggression

and male oppression. i've got a lot of work to do around this stuff- i need to have some real conversations, especially with men, and do some hardcore reading.

i'm largely ignorant and the scope of it, from preliminary discussion and thinking, is immense.

any volunteers? i listen well...

aaaagh!!!!

my baby just surprised me by coming home early!!!! i'm so happy!


yes! worrrrrk!

stop violence against women

did a small demonstration in response to the call for a day of action on October 31st. The BE BOLD. WEAR RED. campaign was really important to me. i'm glad i made the space for it and that other folks came out. altogether there were 10-12 folks- mainly women- that attended. the call was in response to some violent acts perpetrated against women of color in the recent past; i recognize the racism that makes it ok to ignore violence done to brown bodies and the silence that surrounds violence done to women of color and i acknowledge that violence towards any woman is steeped in a history of sexism and patriarchy, so it was imperative that I act. i also wanted to make it more universal, so the sign i made said 'stop violence against women.' i love koyuki. she's a great friend. mike's a lucky dude to have her in his life. she helped me a lot.

two women came up and told their stories. it made the act worthwhile. i think of all the stories we didn't hear, but the women that may have felt encouraged by our making our stance. i also felt a little weird about putting something that i care about on such a public platform. it went well for two days worth of planning though...

here's the text of the call:

be bold be brave be red stop the violence http://documentthesilence.wordpress.com/

Recent events in the United States have moved us to action. Violence against women is sadly, not a new phenomenon in our country or in the world, however, in the last year women of color have experienced brutal forms of violence, torture, rape and injustice which have gone unnoticed, received little to no media coverage, or a limited community response. We are responding to:

* The brutal and inhumane rape, torture, and kidnapping of Megan Williams in Logan, West Virginia who was held by six assailants for a month.

* Rape survivors in the Dunbar Housing Projects in West Palm Beach, Florida one of whom was forced to perform sexual acts on her own child.

* A 13 year old Native American girl was beaten by two white women and has since been harassed by several men yelling "white power" outside of her home

* Seven black lesbian girls attempted to stop an attacker and were latter charged with aggravated assault and are facing up to 11 year prison sentences

In a Litany of Survival, Audre Lorde writes, "When we are silent, we are still afraid. So it is better to speak remembering we were never meant to survive." These words shape our collective organizing to break the silence surrounding women of color's stories of violence. We are asking for community groups, grass-root organizations, college campus students and groups, communities of faith, online communities, and individuals to join us in speaking out against violence against women of color. If we speak, we cannot be invisible.

Join us and stand up to violence against women!

* Be bold, be brave, be red. Wear red on October 31, 2007. Take a picture or video of yourself and friends wearing red. Send it to: beboldbered@gmail.com. We'll post it!

* Take Your Red to the Streets! Know of a location where violence occurred against a woman of color? Have a public location where you feel women of color are often ignored? Make violence against women of color visible by decorating the space in red. Be sure to send us pictures and or video of your display!

* Rally! Gather your friends, family, and community to rally. Check out the Document the Silence website for the litany we're asking participants to read together on October 31st. Be sure to send us pictures and/or video of the event! You could even gather where you created a display!
--
STOP THE VIOLENCE
WEAR RED ON OCTOBER 31, 2007
http://documentthesilence.wordpress.com/

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

and here's a tiny picture of us before City Hall in Philadelphia:

california

took my lover. well, now i can do some work and catch up on some sleep. get myself in order again. joy and sorrow intermingle at the thought of two weeks without him. it will feel really good to have my mind again, not that i won't think of him, but yeah- i'll be able to do some critical thinking about my program and projects. by the time he gets back, maybe i'll have figured out how to better balance school and infatuation. we can hope...

Starting over

listen children
keep this in the place
you have for keeping
always
keep it all ways

we have never hated black

listen
we have been ashamed
hopeless tired mad
but always
all ways
we loved us

we have always loved each other
children all ways

pass it on

****

won't you celebrate with me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,
my one hand holding the other; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.

-Both poems by Lucille Clifton

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


This woman was a genius; truly gifted with the use of language. I think her work calls me to awareness in two ways- first, there is an internal pull that reawakens deep, personal knowing; second, there is a call to remember the stories that make up my past (the woman stories, black stories, travel stories, queer stories, Jamaican stories, etc).

Dating a white man makes me want to revisit these facets of my identity to maintain clarity and balance. Our connection is fulfilling, but it does throw into stark relief all the identities that I have actively and passively claimed. What does it mean for me to be queer-identified, to work in an LGBT community, to be visible in that way and to be partnered with a man? What does it mean for me as a black woman who is invested in black liberation/unity to be dating a white person? What does it mean for me as a womanist and feminist to be dating a nonfeminist man? As an immigrant woman, do I represent, to him, an exotic other for consumption? Can he, as a white US citizen, really see me and be with me on equal terms?

So far we haven't had any problems interpersonally, but I have had to- and still do- grapple with these questions. It helps that he is actively antiracist. It helps that he is totally enamored of me and my brain. It helps that he is not a homophobe, but is an LGBT ally.

I don't believe that I have to surrender any of these identities because of who I partner with, but I do think it requires examination so that I can avoid compromising or undermining myself. It's helpful to have read some of lucille clifton's work because of its effect on me; because it pushes me to investigate self and history. It stands to reason that I would have to see to my foundations so that I am able to fully meet and be with my partner. I'm sure neither of us would be very happy with an alexia that has lost her grounding.

Here's a quote from Michel Foucault that really fits this little post, "The critical ontology of ourselves... has to be conceived as an attitude, an ethos, a philosophic life in which the critique of what we are is at one and the same time the historical analysis of the limits that are imposed on us and an experiment with the possibility of going beyond them."

This relationship is definitely an exploration beyond my historical and personal limits. Thank goodness it's sexy and fun!

bendicion

BLESSING THE BOATS
(at St. Mary's)

by Lucille Clifton

may the tide
that is entering even now
the lip of our understanding
carry you out
beyond the face of fear
may you kiss
the wind then turn from it
certain that it will
love your back
may you
open your eyes to water
water waving forever
and may you in your innocence
sail through this to that



From Quilting: Poems 1987-1990 by Lucille Clifton. Copyright © 2001 by Lucille Clifton.

good vibrations

Let go of your worries

and be completely clear-hearted,

like the face of a mirror

that contains no images.

If you want a clear mirror,

behold yourself

and see the shameless truth,

which the mirror reflects.

If metal can be polished

to a mirror-like finish,

what polishing might the mirror

of the heart require?

Between the mirror and the heart

is this single difference:

the heart conceals secrets,

while the mirror does not.

- Rumi

Things are going well. Classes have begun and we're looking at really cool identity/difference/multiculturalism-type theory. It's exhilarating, somewhat and challenging- I won't pretend that the material is facile, but it's fun!

Other awesome things happening: my friendships are deepening and I'm opening up/connecting with folks more easily than I have in the past; I went on an interview for my Master's placement and the guy pretty much asked me to choose their spot for my work (wow!); my brothers and I have been having really, really good interactions (not fraught with tension and with fewer reservations); I've had some pretty good dates (HOT, in one particular case); K. and I have resolved that unresolved stuff and she's awesome; my mom and I are better friends, taking interest and joy in each other's interests and joys (I like, and cherish, that); my house mate and I are getting on famously; and finally, riding my bicycle just feels better each day- especially with the new tires and seat.

Though that paragraph (?) was not a paragraph, it hit all the necessary spots.

More anon...

Myanmar

(photo by gmhembree)





power to the peaceful! i am so moved by the struggle of the people of myanmar/burma in the face of such absolute repression. i am humbled and inspired by the strength and determination of aung san suu kyi, who has spent so many years on house arrest, but won't abandon her country when given the chance.

the people have held on to their hope for a democratic nation and the junta should submit to the will of the people. still, considering that they were not elected, why would they stand by a process that to them has no meaning?

it is my hope that the people continue to struggle and gain self-determination- that they achieve the gov't that they so obviously desire, and that that government be given the chance to get on its feet and run effectively. i don't know that i think democracy in this day and age is a pure and good form of government- there are too many other forces (economic, especially) that shape a state- but i do think that the people have a right to decide.

for more information, check out any major news source. i've been reading yahoo and bbc world news (though i don't love that they persist in calling the country burma. isn't the name change an act of establishing a national identity post-colonization? it was done by the authoritarian military gov't as a part of extreme repression- yes- but i think the u.k. should at least acknowledge the name since they've traded with the country and maintained a relationship with them throughout...).

some flicks from gmhembree on flick'r... click on the image to see more.

i keep trying

to write something and cancelling the post. life is in a real state of flux right now. i want to return to jamaica. it has been so long since i've been home and the longing is a weight on me. i saw the ocean this summer. i swam in salt water and sang to yemaya. it hurt my heart to taste the salt. i rubbed my feet and skin with the sand and wished that i could return. it must be done. i will go back, and soon.

riding my bicycle home across the river the other day, i got off at the pinnacle of the bridge and began to sing to oshun. the sun was setting on the water and the breeze carried a surprising hint of salt. suddenly, there was a small splash in the water. i thought maybe someone passing by threw something, but how could i have missed its descent? i continued to sing and look at the water when again there was the splash and i saw the golden tail of a fat fish sink beneath the surface. it happened a little distance from me, but i thought... this is oshun. she is hearing me and she likes the song. i started to sing again, joyfully and dance, the fish came right below where i stood on the bridge and did the flip again. i was amazed and delighted. i sang for her and danced for her, uncaring of the passersby (one of whom cautioned me to be careful because the river could draw me in). thinking of it still brings a smile to my face. the spirits and ancestors are with us. the power of light and love are with us at all times, as are chaos, pain and confusion. i feel constantly aware of the pain and challenge, but often lose sight of the love and joy. it was a wonderful, wonderful and liberating reminder.

i see i have something to say, after all.

new old post

Naming

I am afraid of my darkness. I am afraid of my forest self.

I am afraid of the self that seeks to be alone for fear of rejection and now does not know how to return to people. I fear my desperate longing for companionship that leads me to drink and drink until I fear nothing. I fear my invisibility. I walk around as a shadow... Ellison said it eloquently, but to me it feels tender and raw. Invisibility leaves me feeling gutted alive, the ragged edges of my soul sore, aching.

myeyesmyeyesmyeyes are wounds and see no more

I am afraid of the forest that I am- moist and earthy, flowering and treacherous. I am dried up and springing up; rooted and uprooted; seeker and quarry. Promise and potential have been buried in graves deep and shallow (and unforgotten) in me. They lie under moss and fear, rocks and hope, waiting for discovery and redemption.

I fear my ability to spread out, to creep like the forest, out and over land, young trees springing up thin and tall and straight; bushes thickly covering the open spaces between them, scratching to expand. I am afraid to let beauty, power and healing spread like they should- like they want to- from/in me. So, as the farmer and the developer and the city officials to the forest, I trim and trim at its edges to keep a set line, though that is impossible.

A forest, like the spirit, can never be tamed, it can only be experienced or destroyed.

__________

Woman, you are afraid of the forest
I see it in your eyes
When you stare in to the darkness: the terrified look of a defenseless creature.
Woman, you are a forest
strange and deep: I see
you are afraid of yourself.

- Maria Wine

Procrastination

gets the best of me, yet again. I have wasted hours feinting from the writing of even one paper. My time is limited and made even more finite by my completely explicable decision to attend the Sistersong conference this weekend. Who could miss such an event, huh? Who? Certainly, not me. I had a good time remembering why I used to enjoy my brain. Women's resistances really excite! (how does that compare to 'women's resistances rock!' ? hopefully, favorably...)

I must return to my duties, but I wanted to share this... it is ok to love without a religion telling you to do so. It is perfectly fine to live without having to reference some sacred text to determine what to do when and with whom. It's also acceptable to use religion. Can we refrain from trying to belittle folks for choosing alternatives to our beliefs? It's really hypocritical and unfair, i.e. if you have the right to make a choice, others do as well. Show some respect, please.

All done.