My Most Un-PC Post Ever

Politically-Incorrect

I have quietly sat on the sidelines, watching the world pass me by, feeling like a really old cranky woman.

Scarily, I can relate to some of the dotard supporters.

I wonder if being Politically Correct has not gone too far. Way too far.

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Crazy Making!

Some of the things that make me shake my head in bafflement:

  • the ever-morphing gender names
  • the ease with which to transition
  • kids medically and surgically transitioning
  • how one can “be” a she/her in the morning, a they at lunchtime and a he/him by sunset… and how anger feels justified if someone misgenders the person
  • how people quash free speech in the angry alt-right
  • how stupid the president is… and no one is stopping the crazy-making behaviors before he kills all of us
  • how easily people lie (myself included)
  • how men really are led around by their cocks (blame my sex work job for that one)
  • how transwomen insist they were not acculturated into the male world growing up and insist on crashing women-only spaces
  • how people lobby to make Disney characters gay or lesbian
  • how the word “fat” is the nastiest epithet someone can call another person
  • how the more I know about Islam, the less I respect it
  • how “christians” in the US have become the most hateful people on earth (so much for cultivating new christians through love and kindness)
  • how stupid people can be not understanding kneeling for the National Anthem – they are purposefully being angry just to annoy those of us who believe Black Lives Matter
  • how a “snowflake” is now an epithet instead of a lovely geometric design
  • how “The Wall” is quietly being built and people just sit and watch
  • how Flint, MI still doesn’t have clean water (that legacy is going to haunt us for eons)
  • how Puerto Rico is being treated like shit because they are brown people and how Americans bloody well know it and don’t care in the least
  • That In the Heights in Australia was shamed into not being performed amidst accusations of whitewashing when they did their best to fill the actor slots with People of Color

I was tempted to defend myself (I use PC terms when I can, I am not prejudiced against these folks, etc.), but I am leaving this piece to speak for itself.

Thank Stephen King’s On Writing: A Memoir for the Craft for this vomiting of things I have been too afraid to say out loud. He tells writers to “Be brave!” and write the things that are the most difficult to say.

So I did.

(And yes, I feel shame.)

Who Is “45”?

“45” is what I call POTUS, the 45th president of the United States, that horrid man who squats in the White House tweeting (LYING) about random topics to divert our attention from the fucked up bullshit he does that will, PLEASE GODDESS, get him impeached.

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Intersectionality

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I am watching the Women’s March on Washington and while I had learned about Intersectional Feminism previously, seeing how women’s lives overlap with race, religion, genders, abilities, histories (jail, being on welfare, etc.) and more, live right in front of me, is profound.

And then, as I am writing this, I see that intersectionality itself has been a controversial part of the Women’s March! Well, the organizers made it clear, to me at least, that intersectionality is a major part of the event.

It did not come without conflict, even causing white women to stay away from the March after they felt left out of the planning and implementation of the event.

These reactions reflect an ongoing debate about intersectional feminism — the idea that many women are members of other marginalized groups, which affects their experiences — that is bigger than the march. The issue has especially heated up since social media has democratized and made public conversations about issues affecting women.

“Intersectionality simply means that there are lots of different parts to our womanhood,” Brittney Cooper, an assistant professor of women’s and gender studies and Africana studies at Rutgers University, explained. “And those parts — race, gender, sexuality, and religion, and ability — are not incidental or auxiliary. They matter politically.”

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So, reading about intersectionality in general and the March in particular, I am learning the history.

Kimberlé Crenshaw, a law professor at both UCLA and Columbia, is credited with coining the term intersectionality. She did this in her 1989 paper “Demarginalizing the Intersection of Race and Sex: A Black Feminist Critique of Antidiscrimination Doctrine, Feminist Theory, and Antiracist Politics.”

Crenshaw also pointed out that she came up with intersectionality to address a specific legal problem: As she put it, “To capture the applicability of black feminism to anti-discrimination law.” An example she frequently cites in explaining the need for intersectionality is the 1976 case Degraffenreid v. General Motors, in which five black women sued General Motors for both race and gender discrimination.

I know that understanding where intersectionality comes from gives me context from which to pull.

I Am Intersectional, Too

I have written about how I collect descriptive labels. Interestingly, many, many decry labels and refuse to inhibit their identities with them. But, how does one eschew labels yet embrace intersectionality? Is that possible?

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I was raised completely different than who I am now. As a young girl, I learned the ways of the white, heterosexual, cisgender, able-bodied and middle-class world. Yet  I am a super-fat mother & grandmother, a femme Dyke, Cubanx/Latinx (knowing virtually nothing about my culture), mentally ill, disabled, a-theist, sex worker, non-TERF feminist who loves a Muslim man and who learnt Spanish as an adult. I don’t know how I would figure out my intersections without all those labels… and the ones I forgot to list.

Watching the end of the March’s rally, I am incredibly happy to see the wide variety of women represented , many of whom do intersect with my identities.

I’m sure the arguments for and against the Women’s March on Washington are being formulated or written about even now, but I am extremely pleased… more than that… excited, energized, inspired… by the speakers, poets, musicians, singers and leaders who were on that stage today.

I wish I was there.

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2 Years Ago Today…

…I left San Diego.

My daughter Aimee and I got into my red Explorer with my two puppies, Cash & Lilo, and headed east, bound for Orlando.

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Ironically, 15 years before, to the day again, I arrived in San Diego from Orlando, believing I would be with my Zack forevermore.

So many changes.

(The litany of changes are playing in my head: gastric bypass, fires, coccidiomycosis, buying a business, losing a business, having lots of money, having very little money, getting a dog, the dog dying, kids moving in, kids moving out, getting more dogs, getting fat again, midwifery in El Paso, studying midwifery, getting licensed, being ostracized, opiate addiction, mental illness struggles… and then Zack coming out trans.)

Zack coming out trans.

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Zack Coming Out Trans

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I know I wasn’t, but it felt like I was the only partner who struggled with the transition of a loved one. I mean, I wanted him to be authentic, wanted him to be happy… but what about me? (That sounds so selfish! And it was/is. I have had to come to terms with that, but clearly still feel guilty.)

There were two options when Zack came out:

  1. He comes out, transitions medically and surgically and is happy as a clam.
  2. He comes out and stays in the body he hated and possibly commits suicide.

The real life options for my response to his choices above, to his coming out were:

  1. I miss his female body terribly, try to be happy for him, but struggle for years to find balance and mental stability.
  2. Breathe easy that he doesn’t transition physically, being as selfish as can be that my life won’t be changing very much at all.

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Zack Transitioned

Of course, we know he medically and surgically transitioned, I freaked out and we physically parted 2-years ago today.

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artist, Helena Wierzbicki

We had emotionally parted several years before, probably in the exact moment he came out.

A non-drinker, the first 3 days after he came out, I got very, very drunk and then we had sex. We did recognize my actions finally and I immediately stopped drinking, but sex became painfully challenging. Whereas we had always had an amazing, physically fulfilling sex life (pheromones!) before his transition, after, to me, if felt like we were strangers in a completely unemotional, clumsy struggle to connect.

Dripping Words

This, the first of sure to be a dozen or so posts of my processing Zack’s transition, took 2 days to eek out. My heart hurts, it’s hard to breathe and the tears won’t abate.

I will keep writing anyway.

Don’t Call Me an Ally

The Word “Ally”

I have chosen not to call myself an ally… first, because I don’t believe I can name myself an ally, but that it is a word given… graced upon one from the main group itself.

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Gee Lowery of the Onyx Truth explains in brilliant detail why I know I am not anywhere near ally status at this point. They say, in “Dear White Allies, I’m Not Really Interested In Being An Ally With You“:

The day your so-called ally status can prevent a cop from developing irrational fears of Black people & prevent cops from going into itchy trigger finger mode is the day you might actually become a true ally.  The day your so-called ally status you seek can get a cop sentenced to prison for taking the life of an unarmed Black person, you might actually become a true ally.  The day your so-called ally status decides to vote to funnel necessary funds into these Black communities that have high levels of Black on Black crime to create economic & educational opportunities so that Black people in these communities won’t have to resort to a life of crime, you might actually be a true ally.  The day your so-called ally status walks up to a political figure with an agenda that is SPECIFICALLY catered towards BLACK PEOPLE that deals with OUR issues ONLY…not this “minority” double talk bullshit…you might actually become an ally.  The day your so-called ally status allows for you come up from behind that computer or smartphone to venture off into the Black community to spend your money in Black establishments as much as possible in order to further help the wheels of Black economic empowerment roll along, you might actually become a true ally.  Until you can actually do that, then what the hell are you actually good for?

My Challenges

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Even to me, I sound like I am making excuses for not being more active, but I know these are my very real limitations: my disabilities (including my size), my mental illness and my financial status.

I cannot physically go out and demonstrate without being in amazing pain as well as the logistical issue of being trapped or hurt if a confrontation with people or the police occurred. I would be a liability instead of a help. Just writing that makes me sad, but I have to soothe my Activist Self with I have marched for LGBT rights, rights for people of size, against the Iraq war and any number of other causes and issues over the last 30+ years.

What I Can Do

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I might forever remain on that bottom rung of the Ally ladder, the top being awarded the Ally Medal of Honor, but I can only do what I can do. (I keep repeating that to myself to assuage my feelings of inadequacy.)

  • I can write: Blog posts. Comments to other blog posts and articles. Tumblr posts. Tweets. Comments to both posts and Tweets.
  • I can give rides to those who need them to get them off the street and out of harm’s way.
  • I can get a tattoo that represents my support for different people and their fighting oppression. At the moment, the Safety Pin is the concept with an LGBTQIA+ rainbow, a Muslim flag…not sure what exactly yet, but something from Islam…, a peace sign, probably a rainbow one combining the two symbols… a #BLM and a flag for immigrants… probably Cuban because I am born of a Cuban Refugee even though they/we are not the Refugees of the Minute. I want a tattoo to show my support… a symbol of support that cannot be taken off like a safety pin. Hijabis, Blacks, People of Color, Disabled folks and many Gay or Transfolks cannot just take off the parts of themselves that bring, not just oppression, but (especially now), violence and death. And I have been looking deeply at my motivation for the tattoo. Is it to make me feel better with my White Guilt? Or is it really as a demonstration of solidarity. At this moment, I feel it is the latter. I have until December 6, 2016 to figure it out.

I don’t want anyone to feel alone, especially in this political climate.

I am here and I am not going away.

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Maslow’s Hierarchy: We All Fall Down

I was talking to my cub tonight about The Election (groan) and we were sharing what news we had read during the day, what people talked about and our feelings about it all. Note that I do not watch or read the news (my therapist and Psychiatrist have forbidden it), but get information from Tumblr and Facebook. My cublet, on the other hand, is a CNN junkie. Between us, we can usually cover all the bases.

Reality vs. Political Statement

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AP photo

We got to the Silicon Valley investors wanting to “Calexit” the United States and began a discussion of:

Is this for real? Or is this a statement of protest. 

When the protests at colleges began the night of the Election and now that they have continued, including the #NotMyPresident hashtag, I started with “People are PISSED! They need an outlet.” The protests will mean zero to Trump’s White House. However, they are an incredible show of force of just how angry we are that this animal has become the President. I also believe they are laying the foundation for the election in 2020. (I am sure I’m not the only one watching to see who The Leaders will be as things unfold.)

Then the Calexit stuff… will they really try to secede or are they making a loud statement of distaste and anger. I believe it is the latter.

Next up was the Change.Org Petition to ask/beg/demand the Electoral College to not vote Trump in in December. My love was NOT happy about it at all, saying that we can not like what happened and be as loud as we want about it, but that asking that the Electoral College to do this is not the way our American System of Government works. I offered that it was yet another “statement” of anger and frustration and surely people will know that an online Petition wasn’t going to make one iota of a difference with what happens in December. He said that even some college educated people he knows who do know how the government works were demanding their friends go and sign the Petition, acting like if there were enough “signatures,” it would, in fact, sway the Electoral College. (At the time of this writing, there were already over 2 million signatures.)

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Whatever Means Necessary

I made the comment that I felt people were grasping for control in an uncontrollable situation because they are terrified for their lives.They are using any means accessible to them… the streets, the press, social media and even as out-of-the-ordinary as Calexit, people are going to find a way to shout their sheer terror so someone will hear them.

Maslow’s Hierarchy

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I commented that many of the Protesters/Protectors have been plunged from the top of the Pyramid (Self-Actualization) to the bottom two levels (Safety and Physiological) in the time it took to hold one Election Night. Even the most oppressed have fallen down the rungs.

Women (including me), the LGBTQIA+ community (including me), Muslims (including my cub), immigrants, the disabled (including me) and so many more are, quite literally, scared of violence against themselves and their families… violence that can lead to death. As we know, it has started already. This would be the second level in Maslow’s Hierarchy.

Desperate people, especially our trans brothers and sisters, are killing themselves, bypassing the bottom level and removing themselves from life altogether. I hardly have words to express my incredible sadness that this man has terrorized our country so intensely it seems hopeless to even try and fight with The System.

It’s Up to Us

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Within the span of days, I, along with millions of other, are galvanized to fix things… do away with the Electoral College, take Trump/Congress/the government to court if they attempt to stomp all over our Constitution & Amendments (thank you ACLU!)… and to reach out, speaking for and taking care of others who do not (and have not) had a voice for far, far too long because of the oppression this country has harbored since taking the land belonging to the Native Americans.

For the first time since the night of November 8th, I am feeling hopeful that we can begin to reverse the tragedy that’s taking over our White House in January 2017.

We can do it. I believe in us.