I went to church last night and this morning, as I do, and we sang "Come, ye faithful, raise the strain," which contains one of my favorite phrases: "led them with unmoistened foot..."
It tickles me every year.
This year, though? Not the phrase that tickled me most. Oh, it tickled me, as it always does.
But then, a few hours later, my extended family and I were sitting at the table, eating a wonderful Easter feast of lamb and asparagus and rice and salad and lemon crumb cake. And my sister spoke to her son, my beautiful not-quite-two-year-old nephew, and a new, not unrelated, favorite phrase for the day was born.
"Don't lick your sock."
It tickles me still.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
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Y'know what's driving me bananas? Those equal signs.
And there are a few reasons for it, some of which are summarized nicely here, and some of which are also summarized nicely here. HRC is not without its flaws.
And one of which, the one that really caught me off guard, is this: When I have seen brave queer (often trans) friends try to address the problems with HRC* on Facebook in the last day and a half or so, they have, with only one exception, been basically told to lighten up. And they have been told that by people who would like to think they are allies.
When people you are trying to help say they feel hurt by your actions, you have more or less three choices:
I feel lucky not to know most of the folks I've seen behave in the third way, but the main reason I am that "lucky" is that I am a big coward who got off Facebook for a bit rather than address it, because I did not want to be jumped on in the ways I saw my friends jumped on. And I want people to like me, to not think of me as judging their attempts at sweet gestures.
By the way, in case you were wondering how I feel about marriage equality, it's like this: I think equality generally is critical. I think if we live in a culture that privileges certain relationships (and we do), people need equal access to those privileges. I think marriage equality is, in fact, critical for some people, and I do not always think you know whether you're one of those people until the problems start. I think marriage equality is a weird but true benchmark of the acceptability of certain kinds of queer relationships, and I think one of the many reasons one of my past relationships failed is that my partner was convinced no one would ever accept us because marriage equality seemed so unlikely.
I also think we have bigger social justice fish to fry — like, way bigger. And that marriage equality, while critical for some folks (though quite possibly not, say, me), is not going to solve all our problems. And I think it might behoove us all, particularly those saying "one step at a time," to think a little about our end game.
One step toward what?
Regardless of your identities, what is the biggest dream you can dream, social-justice-wise? Is it affording middle-class LGB types the exact same things our middle-class straight friends aspire to? Is it opening the doors to privileging a way wider spectrum of relationships and arrangements, or none of them? Health care for everyone? Is it some perfect anarchy? Some perfect libertarian ideal? A view of a more involved state, a less involved state? An unstate? An end to poverty? Or violence? Or slavery? Or families?
I don't know all of what I'm going for, but I bet it's more radical than some of you would guess, and I will for sure be thinking about how to frame it here.
And really, I want to know what you are going for, as you fight the good fight with your dollars and your words — and your Facebook profile pictures. Comment anonymously if you must, but pleeeeeeeeease comment? Please?
*Do those of you using the equal sign all know you're using essentially a corporate logo? If so, that's fine; people wear corporate logos all the time. But if not, I thought you'd want to know.
And there are a few reasons for it, some of which are summarized nicely here, and some of which are also summarized nicely here. HRC is not without its flaws.
And one of which, the one that really caught me off guard, is this: When I have seen brave queer (often trans) friends try to address the problems with HRC* on Facebook in the last day and a half or so, they have, with only one exception, been basically told to lighten up. And they have been told that by people who would like to think they are allies.
When people you are trying to help say they feel hurt by your actions, you have more or less three choices:
- Listen and change your behavior (obviously valid),
- disagree to yourself and don't change your behavior (definitely valid in some cases but maybe less than people are inclined to do it),
- disagree out loud that the people who feel hurt have any reason to feel that way (rarely helpful to anyone).
I feel lucky not to know most of the folks I've seen behave in the third way, but the main reason I am that "lucky" is that I am a big coward who got off Facebook for a bit rather than address it, because I did not want to be jumped on in the ways I saw my friends jumped on. And I want people to like me, to not think of me as judging their attempts at sweet gestures.
By the way, in case you were wondering how I feel about marriage equality, it's like this: I think equality generally is critical. I think if we live in a culture that privileges certain relationships (and we do), people need equal access to those privileges. I think marriage equality is, in fact, critical for some people, and I do not always think you know whether you're one of those people until the problems start. I think marriage equality is a weird but true benchmark of the acceptability of certain kinds of queer relationships, and I think one of the many reasons one of my past relationships failed is that my partner was convinced no one would ever accept us because marriage equality seemed so unlikely.
I also think we have bigger social justice fish to fry — like, way bigger. And that marriage equality, while critical for some folks (though quite possibly not, say, me), is not going to solve all our problems. And I think it might behoove us all, particularly those saying "one step at a time," to think a little about our end game.
One step toward what?
Regardless of your identities, what is the biggest dream you can dream, social-justice-wise? Is it affording middle-class LGB types the exact same things our middle-class straight friends aspire to? Is it opening the doors to privileging a way wider spectrum of relationships and arrangements, or none of them? Health care for everyone? Is it some perfect anarchy? Some perfect libertarian ideal? A view of a more involved state, a less involved state? An unstate? An end to poverty? Or violence? Or slavery? Or families?
I don't know all of what I'm going for, but I bet it's more radical than some of you would guess, and I will for sure be thinking about how to frame it here.
And really, I want to know what you are going for, as you fight the good fight with your dollars and your words — and your Facebook profile pictures. Comment anonymously if you must, but pleeeeeeeeease comment? Please?
*Do those of you using the equal sign all know you're using essentially a corporate logo? If so, that's fine; people wear corporate logos all the time. But if not, I thought you'd want to know.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Giving Up: Third Sunday of Lent
I fell down on the job a lot this week, I hate to say.
Day 11: Call an old friend. I posted to Facebook:
Day 12: Pray the Paper (pray for people and situations in today’s news). I sort of forgot to do this and so did it on Day 16 instead. Here's some of what was in the news that day:
OK, to be fair, I didn't actually pray over that last one, but it was interesting to think about, right?
Day 13: Read Psalm 139. I did, and shared it with a friend, too, a day later. Those of you who also did, or who are following along now, that one ends sort of weird, right? What do you make of it?
Day 14: Pay a few sincere compliments. I did this, and tried to focus on accomplishment, rather than appearance. It seemed to go over well. People like that stuff. Who knew? (I also attempted to go to Goodwill again, and failed, again.) I did it some more the next day, too, because it worked so well. On that next day, I also encountered this article in Forbes on "7 Ways You're Hurting Your Daughter's Future,"* which claims doing so will also make my niece richer, which I am all for, because someone needs to care for Auntie Bzzzzgrrrl in her old age.
Day 15: Bring your own mug. I don't really use mugs except at home, so maybe I'm missing the point of this one. Do they mean bring my own mug to a coffee shop where they think I'd buy coffee, so I wouldn't waste a paper cup? I guess that's probably what they mean. I don't drink coffee. I did go to friends' house for dinner, and was pretty sure I'd be offered tea or coffee after dinner, so brought my own mug for just that purpose. Then I was able to explain to my friends, who are a minister and a seminarian, and we all amused ourselves for a while. Maybe the idea of this is to do something amusing. Probably not.
Day 16: Educate yourself about human trafficking. Boy howdy, did I. I read a 30-page report on human trafficking in my state. There's a lot to know. Coincidentally, one of my favorite feminist bloggers came out of semi-retirement to talk about her shifting views on sex work. There is, unsurprisingly, a lot more cussing in that post, but it's interesting reading.
This week, a colleague I don't know well asked about the whole giving things up for Lent thing, and suggested that taking Sundays off from that practice was basically cheating. He was mostly asking a Catholic mutual friend of ours about her opinion, which did not stop me from chiming right in. I explained that Lent is actually 46 days long, so that we can take Sundays off and still do 40 days of whatever Lenten observance we're doing.
"Seriously?" he said. "Canon law?"
"It's not so much canon law as it is basic math," I said.**
*... which title I take exception with, because I am pretty sure it's the patriarchy that's hurting your daughter's future, and the fact that there may be small thingsparents mothers (seriously; see #5. This future-daughter-harming is ALL MOM) can do to mitigate the damage does not, I'm pretty sure, make it their fault.
**The rest of this interaction actually did happen, but I did not actually crack out the basic math line, because I only thought of it moments later, and I'm pretty glad about that, because while it's both true and funny, it also would have been rude in the moment, a little, I think.
Day 11: Call an old friend. I posted to Facebook:
[bzzzzgrrrl] has been instructed to call an old friend today. If you would like to be that old friend, private message me your phone number. Priority given to those who can receive a call between 5:30 and 6:30 this evening, or between 9 and 10 tonight.Two people requested calls, and they were two of only a tiny handful of "old friends" with whom I am in very regular contact already. I called one between 5:30 and 6:30 and the other between 9 and 10, and tried to call a couple of others but got no answers. It was nice, though, to connect, to hear voices to love and be loved by people who have known me since I was a much younger adult.
Day 12: Pray the Paper (pray for people and situations in today’s news). I sort of forgot to do this and so did it on Day 16 instead. Here's some of what was in the news that day:
- The sequester
- Bonnie Franklin's passing
- The sinkhole in Florida
- Feeding antibiotics to livestock is a bad idea
- Someone's been charged in Marco McMillan's murder
- Kenyans are voting for a new president
- People support marriage equality
- China (almost) executes people on TV
- Marshmallow eggs don't turn out to have salmonella
- Ralph Macchio is now the same age Pat Morita was in the first Karate Kid
OK, to be fair, I didn't actually pray over that last one, but it was interesting to think about, right?
Day 13: Read Psalm 139. I did, and shared it with a friend, too, a day later. Those of you who also did, or who are following along now, that one ends sort of weird, right? What do you make of it?
Day 14: Pay a few sincere compliments. I did this, and tried to focus on accomplishment, rather than appearance. It seemed to go over well. People like that stuff. Who knew? (I also attempted to go to Goodwill again, and failed, again.) I did it some more the next day, too, because it worked so well. On that next day, I also encountered this article in Forbes on "7 Ways You're Hurting Your Daughter's Future,"* which claims doing so will also make my niece richer, which I am all for, because someone needs to care for Auntie Bzzzzgrrrl in her old age.
Day 15: Bring your own mug. I don't really use mugs except at home, so maybe I'm missing the point of this one. Do they mean bring my own mug to a coffee shop where they think I'd buy coffee, so I wouldn't waste a paper cup? I guess that's probably what they mean. I don't drink coffee. I did go to friends' house for dinner, and was pretty sure I'd be offered tea or coffee after dinner, so brought my own mug for just that purpose. Then I was able to explain to my friends, who are a minister and a seminarian, and we all amused ourselves for a while. Maybe the idea of this is to do something amusing. Probably not.
Day 16: Educate yourself about human trafficking. Boy howdy, did I. I read a 30-page report on human trafficking in my state. There's a lot to know. Coincidentally, one of my favorite feminist bloggers came out of semi-retirement to talk about her shifting views on sex work. There is, unsurprisingly, a lot more cussing in that post, but it's interesting reading.
This week, a colleague I don't know well asked about the whole giving things up for Lent thing, and suggested that taking Sundays off from that practice was basically cheating. He was mostly asking a Catholic mutual friend of ours about her opinion, which did not stop me from chiming right in. I explained that Lent is actually 46 days long, so that we can take Sundays off and still do 40 days of whatever Lenten observance we're doing.
"Seriously?" he said. "Canon law?"
"It's not so much canon law as it is basic math," I said.**
*... which title I take exception with, because I am pretty sure it's the patriarchy that's hurting your daughter's future, and the fact that there may be small things
**The rest of this interaction actually did happen, but I did not actually crack out the basic math line, because I only thought of it moments later, and I'm pretty glad about that, because while it's both true and funny, it also would have been rude in the moment, a little, I think.
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