Skillbuilding

The skills we leave off our résumés:

• kicking people when they're down;
• awkwardly responding, "you too!" when told, "enjoy the movie!" or "have a good day in class" when the other person isn't doing those things;
• getting paper instead of plastic;
• successfully folding a fitted sheet;
• eating;
• clogging the toilet with too much toilet paper;
• waking up today;
• apologizing as a knee-jerk reaction;
• giving windows that "streak-free shine" with the first attempt;
• saying anything other than, "I'm good, and you?" when asked how you are;
• doing awful privileged person things that make you cringe when other privileged people do them;
• delivering decent blowjobs;
• taking medicine with food at proper intervals;
• picketing;
• packing light;
• standing between two people who are fighting to block the blows;
• having a pair of tweezers in every room and in the car, for brow and misc emergencies;
• embracing my "crazy";
• properly using the Oxford comma;
• smiling no matter what;
• even if I don't want to;
• even if I don't owe you one.

A prayer?

My wish for this upcoming week: no crises that need my immediate attention. Not to sound selfish, but I need to be able to take care of my shit this week without the powers-that-be interfering. Maybe if I write it out and send it into the void, my wish will come true. Here's hoping.

On Ownership

 August 3, 2014

I am a cisgender white woman.
Those three markers of my identity are intersections that shape my perceptions and experiences in western culture.
I benefit from the gender binary, as someone who is feminine and whose birth assignment aligns with my expression.
I benefit from white supremacy; because of my complexion, I can have unquestioned access to resources that my peers of color do not. My material privilege is assumed to be merit-based while my peers of color are not given this same benefit-of-the-doubt.
I can own a gun and use it and that would be my right; my peers of color are told they are thugs when they obtain a gun.
My life is not threatened on a daily basis, and cops don't pull me over every time I am driving.
Because of our misogynist culture, I am seen as fragile and hysterical, but misogynoir and transmisogyny magnify and elevate these misconceptions and put women of color, especially trans women of color, in constant danger. Lives are lost on a daily basis because of misogyny, misogynoir, and transmisogyny.
Every day, multiple times a day, it is my responsibility to interrogate and analyze my privilege. Sometimes, that process is uncomfortable; however, my discomfort is not more important than the lives lost to racism, transphobia, and other forms of bigotry that are woven into the fabric of American culture.
Being challenged does not hurt me.
Wanting justice for all does not strip me if my rights; everyone having rights does not eliminate mine.
These conversations are important to have, but the onus to educate me is on my own shoulders and not on the shoulders of those who are more oppressed than I am.
I am a cisgender white woman.
I am learning and growing in my compassion. I invite others to do the same.

 

Collecting

We collect
the skeletons
of our dreams.

We polish
the bones
and line them
in a row.

With tired eyes,
we judge them harshly,
and toss
the cracked ones
back
into the ocean.

When did we become
so afraid?

The list is short, but...

I am a list-maker: to do lists, grocery lists, goal lists, reminders... I have a Word Doc with a list of things that have altered my life in negative ways during the course of this year. I look at each item, pray/meditate about it, and hope that this ritual alleviates my anxiety and lessens the power each item has over me. In a separate Doc, I have a list of blessings. Some items from the former list end up copied-and-pasted into the list of blessings.

I do this to remember and learn. There are people in my life who have tried to hurt me and take things that are important to me away. It's as if they want to be on the list of things that are obstacles and burdens. And maybe they do end up on that list.

But then, one day, they end up on my list of blessings. All of the bullies, and abusers, and all of the "well-meaning" people who've told me to not follow my dreams, that I wouldn't be successful -- all of them, along with those who have told me to stop being kind, to stop being me... I overcome these obstacles. I overcome these adversities. I jump over all these people as if they were actual hurdles, and I am the athlete wanting that gold medal. That gold medal is the right for me to be me. That medal is the right for me to teach. That medal is the right for me to spread kindness.

Don't ever, ever stand in my way.

A Haunting

I believe in ghosts: past mistakes,
yesterday's words haunting me.
When the kettle whistled,
no one took it off the stove:
ghosts screaming out.
And yet neglect
is commonplace, the stove left on,
left to burn.
The ghosts remain,
are commonplace, their figures
charred into memory, their faces
blending into mine.
And when I called out,
no one answered
but the past.