So I have been reading all of these things by people who call valentine's day a sham, and I'm sick of it. Yes, it's a sham, but it's a sham where you get to make people cupcakes or a card out of construction paper (or if you are sick as a dog like I am this week, buy them cards).
And it's a sham where I get to buy my kid and I some lovely pink tiger lillies and pale sherbert orange roses at the grocery store, and the whole shopping trip turns into foods which match in colour (except the black beans and the milk, those were the odd ones out).
And it's a sham where I get to feel silly and happy and remember how much I enjoyed it as a kid. Yes, it's overhyped. Hell, nothing isn't lately. I remember walking down the aisles at Shopko a few days before Christmas and they were putting out the VALENTINE'S candy. And today, as I walked to the checkout line at-packed-to-the-gills Walgreens, I saw the Easter candy. So, yes, all the ads, and the "YOU MUST CELEBRATE THIS" are annoying, but it's a far simpler day to ignore than the three months of Christmas, and it's simply a better day.
I'm tired of cynicism. I'm feeling very vulnerable and being sick on top of being snowbound for a week or so... I'm just spent. All I want to do is sleep all day (and since I've been up nearly all night, that is likely a good idea).
As far as Valentine's Day goes with me and my man, I told him I don't care about a present, but I want to be with him and have us both say "happy valentine's day", celebrate it by just being together. It's not a big deal, but it's a *deal*.
Happy Valentine's Day. Would you be mine?
Showing posts with label what I think. Show all posts
Showing posts with label what I think. Show all posts
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Some interesting perspectives on the upcoming election which I've read recently
First of all, I should say that I'm going to be voting for Barack Obama in the upcoming Wisconsin Primary. I'm excited about it, a little, although the overriding feeling I have about this election is still rooted in deep cynicism. I don't believe that the next four years is going to be good for our country (while we try to dig ourselves out of the bush/cheney hole), but it will be far better to have a human being in the White House.
My kids were the first people to convince me to stay involved (however peripherally) in the election. My youngest in particular is SUPER SUPER excited about Barack Obama. SUPER excited. Excitement is contagious.
I originally was going to vote for Dennis Kucinich in the primary, before he dropped out to concentrate on his congressional race, after which I decided to support John Edwards. Now that Edwards has dropped out I am firmly in the Obama camp.
This morning I read this article by guest blogger Naamen Gobert Tilahun at Angry Black Woman and I was struck by it. The "race" issue is why I have felt hesitant about saying I was gonna vote for Barack Obama.
It's really worth a read.
Yesterday over at Racilious, various contributors gave their reasons for supporting Barack Obama. Some highlights:
*****
*****
All of the people I've heard talking about why they are voting for Hillary Clinton are white women of a certain age [ETA: I can't believe I played the Race, Gender and Age cards here, I'm embarrassed]. I've listened to a fair amount of "progressive" or lefty radio the past two days. What I've heard is these women talking down to the strawman/Obama supporters, talking about how the young aren't the people we need giving us [older folks] advice about who to vote for, and how the message of "Hope" is somehow empty. REALLY? Thanks, but no thanks. Hearing crap like that will make it really hard to support Sen. Clinton if she indeed takes the nomination. I really don't want to grit my teeth and vote for another uninspiring candidate.
Sen. Obama is far from perfect. Face it, anyone who wants to be president has to have something wrong with them. But he's become my candidate. Because of the many opportunities this race presents me with getting really mad, I'll no doubt be posting here about this. It should be, at the least, an interesting year.
My kids were the first people to convince me to stay involved (however peripherally) in the election. My youngest in particular is SUPER SUPER excited about Barack Obama. SUPER excited. Excitement is contagious.
I originally was going to vote for Dennis Kucinich in the primary, before he dropped out to concentrate on his congressional race, after which I decided to support John Edwards. Now that Edwards has dropped out I am firmly in the Obama camp.
This morning I read this article by guest blogger Naamen Gobert Tilahun at Angry Black Woman and I was struck by it. The "race" issue is why I have felt hesitant about saying I was gonna vote for Barack Obama.
It’s because I’m black.
See when I admit that I support Obama, people (mostly white) get this look on their face and that’s the end the conversation. They don’t ask why, they don’t start a dialogue, there’s just this look. The look is very much like a slap in the face. What the look says is “Ah, I knew you would”, “Of Course.”, “Well, I’m not surprised.”. The look rests on the assumption that as a black man of course I would be voting for the black man. It’s a racist assumption that insults not only myself but Obama as well. When we deconstruct the look there are two main attacks that are happening here.
Number one they are assuming that Obama has nothing to offer except being a black man, they are assuming that none of his politics matter that his only viability as a candidate stems from his race.
It's really worth a read.
Yesterday over at Racilious, various contributors gave their reasons for supporting Barack Obama. Some highlights:
Does Obama appeal to me because he’s multiracial, like myself? Because many of his relatives are Asian? Because in living abroad, he’s had the same international Third Culture Kid (TCK) experiences as me? In part, yes.
But what really excites me about Obama is that he is completely in touch with how race in America is lived in 2008. He understands that race is not just about who’s black and who’s white, or who’s a victim and who’s an oppressor. He’s fearless about addressing institutional racism, but is absolutely uninterested in playing oppression olympics. His message is one of hope and change, yet he doesn’t sugarcoat the realities of racism or insist on engaging in meaningless celebrations of diversity. He proudly identifies as a black man, yet is committed to bringing together people of all races.
*****
Barack voted against the War in Iraq at a time when a substantial portion of America was convinced that going to war was the right thing to do. I greatly respect a leader who can see through the clouds of illusion that politics often create. And when it comes to foreign affairs in the Middle East, there is no better time than now to be incredibly diplomatic and make decisions with our country’s best interests in mind. Bombing additional countries won’t help the damage we’ve already done, nor will building additional military bases (which, as demonstrated in South Korea and Okinawa, can often lead to more problems with regard to security for the host nation’s citizens than before).
*****
He is willing to radically depart from the politics of fear that various people have used to justify the need for military might and instead work toward global community and understanding.
All of the people I've heard talking about why they are voting for Hillary Clinton are white women of a certain age [ETA: I can't believe I played the Race, Gender and Age cards here, I'm embarrassed]. I've listened to a fair amount of "progressive" or lefty radio the past two days. What I've heard is these women talking down to the strawman/Obama supporters, talking about how the young aren't the people we need giving us [older folks] advice about who to vote for, and how the message of "Hope" is somehow empty. REALLY? Thanks, but no thanks. Hearing crap like that will make it really hard to support Sen. Clinton if she indeed takes the nomination. I really don't want to grit my teeth and vote for another uninspiring candidate.
Sen. Obama is far from perfect. Face it, anyone who wants to be president has to have something wrong with them. But he's become my candidate. Because of the many opportunities this race presents me with getting really mad, I'll no doubt be posting here about this. It should be, at the least, an interesting year.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Trying to keep a cool head
So Bf and I nearly had an argument last night about something around which we tend to disagree, and that is... complicated. It's about the nature of RACE.
As a student of Anthropology (particularly cultural), I really have embraced what I've been exposed to about race being a cultural and not a biological construct. Sure, people are different, look different and on some level share common DNA markers with others of the same original geographic heritage, but RACE as a one size fits all, there are six of them (and one more, the one I belong to, "other") and thats "just how it is"?
Excuse me while I laugh and or scream and or cry.
No.
In class the example I used to mention my own confusion about race was my 8 year old. If you saw him, you would say to yourself, "white kid". There wouldn't be any question in your mind on that point. If you saw us together you might have some cognitive dissonance, because most of the time "white woman" doesn't pop into people's heads when they see me.
So, if race is a purely biological construct, what am I? What is he? And what, pray tell, are the millions of people who are all mixed up? Where are the hard and cold facts separating us and who has that list - is it available as a PDF?
The problem last night is that as I was describing (poorly, alas) the lecture, bf said, voice dripping with derision, "oh, is he a biologist?" I will tell you that I very nearly came unhinged at that moment. It felt as though a thousand bees were in my head screaming to protect the Queen. I did swear, friend, and I did use a terribly unfriendly tone, but quickly composed myself.
You see, this is the kind of thing which strikes (sadness? madness?) something deep in my heart. The line, the thin, thin line upon which I have always tread is one which I have had to make myself. There is no one path for a mixed race person to walk, and for me, I have decided to let others do the fighting because no one is happy with my choices. But when I hear that tone of voice implying that I am blind to the obvious facts of the existence of Caucasiods and Negroids (made up terms, friend, cut from whole cloth to suit the needs of a few) - I will tell you, no matter who says it I lose my shit.
As I am fond of saying "I've been to the Caucasus (Armenia is a beautiful place), and the people there? By the standards of our culture (and many others) would not be considered White". I'll get up the courage to tell the story of how the Caucasian "race" came to be, sometime soon, I hope, but for now, please let me guarantee you that not everything we know to be true is an objective truth. And for race, that goes double.
The winners write history, as it's said, and the winners in this case were myopic ethnocentric fools.
We never got around to really discussing this, so I'm airing unfinished laundry here. I'm sure we'll get around to ironing this out at some point. This story (my monologue here) will continue...
As a student of Anthropology (particularly cultural), I really have embraced what I've been exposed to about race being a cultural and not a biological construct. Sure, people are different, look different and on some level share common DNA markers with others of the same original geographic heritage, but RACE as a one size fits all, there are six of them (and one more, the one I belong to, "other") and thats "just how it is"?
Excuse me while I laugh and or scream and or cry.
No.
In class the example I used to mention my own confusion about race was my 8 year old. If you saw him, you would say to yourself, "white kid". There wouldn't be any question in your mind on that point. If you saw us together you might have some cognitive dissonance, because most of the time "white woman" doesn't pop into people's heads when they see me.
So, if race is a purely biological construct, what am I? What is he? And what, pray tell, are the millions of people who are all mixed up? Where are the hard and cold facts separating us and who has that list - is it available as a PDF?
The problem last night is that as I was describing (poorly, alas) the lecture, bf said, voice dripping with derision, "oh, is he a biologist?" I will tell you that I very nearly came unhinged at that moment. It felt as though a thousand bees were in my head screaming to protect the Queen. I did swear, friend, and I did use a terribly unfriendly tone, but quickly composed myself.
You see, this is the kind of thing which strikes (sadness? madness?) something deep in my heart. The line, the thin, thin line upon which I have always tread is one which I have had to make myself. There is no one path for a mixed race person to walk, and for me, I have decided to let others do the fighting because no one is happy with my choices. But when I hear that tone of voice implying that I am blind to the obvious facts of the existence of Caucasiods and Negroids (made up terms, friend, cut from whole cloth to suit the needs of a few) - I will tell you, no matter who says it I lose my shit.
As I am fond of saying "I've been to the Caucasus (Armenia is a beautiful place), and the people there? By the standards of our culture (and many others) would not be considered White". I'll get up the courage to tell the story of how the Caucasian "race" came to be, sometime soon, I hope, but for now, please let me guarantee you that not everything we know to be true is an objective truth. And for race, that goes double.
The winners write history, as it's said, and the winners in this case were myopic ethnocentric fools.
We never got around to really discussing this, so I'm airing unfinished laundry here. I'm sure we'll get around to ironing this out at some point. This story (my monologue here) will continue...
Friday, July 27, 2007
The non-contagious non-epidemic
I am, by standards such as the BMI, obese. I won't beg to differ with that, I just chose to ignore it. I'm well aware of my body size and composition, and I've decided to use different standards to gauge my physical health.
By now you've likely heard of the new study which "proves" that fat is "contagious". Unfortunately, that representation is just not very accurate, and it makes some annoying (and possibly harmful) assumptions.
For some people, being fat is unavoidable - they start out in childhood with extra weight and just stay that way - for others it's medication related (example: I gained 30 lbs when I was taking lithium this past fall, the weight just PILED on, and for the most part didn't leave when I stopped the meds), or as for many women, related to a medical condition such as PCOS (Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome).
Being fat is just as normal as being skinny, being thin, being average. Over the whole of human history, there have been fat people. Look to art, folk and fine, for proof of that. Fat men and women are people, just like non fat people are. The idea that fat isn't normal is prevalent and harmful.
This last one is the toughest idea to address - that fat is bad. Fat is fat. Being unhealthy is bad, yes, but FATNESS DOES NOT EQUAL BAD HEALTH. At my heaviest my cholesterol numbers were well below 200, and my overall health good. My blood pressure was also good, although I will concede that it's got better when I was thinner, I do think my life was a lot more stressful (married life, finances), so that was likely a factor.
The "facts" (PDF) that fat people are less healthy, have greater mortality, will always be prone to diabetes and heart disease are not as iron clad as some people would have you believe. The dangers (or to be more mild, harmful effects) of repeated weight loss and gain [yo-yo-ing] are becoming very clear. And the fact is that for people who tend toward heavy, dieting can lead to a slower metabolism, and a weight loss is logically followed by weight gain as their bodies attempt to 'normalize' after a period of deprivation.
Right now in my life I am healthier and happier than I've been in years, really. AND I'm fat. Make of that what you will.
I've ready many, many excellent reactions to this study and how it's being presented (and misrepresented) in the media right now.
Always good are Kate Harding, Harriet Brown and many of the bloggers who are aggregated on this feed.
A good one stop shop for discussion of this study (lots of links) is from On The Whole, and is worth a look.
Please don't think I am not saying that diet, eating habits and other things should not be examined and tweaked to promote optimal health, because I'm not. The food in our school cafeterias alone has me hyperventilating more often than not (filled with hidden sugar, for one thing), nevermind the orgiastic portions at restaurants and the hard-sell advertising to kids and adults alike.
But to base our ideas about what is good for us by if it's "okay" or "good" or "guilt-free" instead of by common sense factors such as if we are hungry, and what are bodies need and request is only asking for trouble. We are given tastebuds and an appetite for a reason. Learning to listen to and respect your body is the best way to open yourself up to better health. I know that when I am craving an apple, I'd better get one, and that when I want chocolate shoppe zanzibar chocolate ice cream, I'm happiest when I *have* it, rather than punishing myself because I *shouldn't*.
Fat Hatred is very real, and it isn't something that fat people can easily avoid. The worst part of it is how it twists everyone's mind up, so that standards of beauty are narrow, and we spend too much time judging ourselves and others by these narrow standards. As hard as it is to re-program my thinking, I'm happy that I've starting to really engage with the struggle to love and accept myself on this level - it has unlocked self acceptance on other levels - in therapy I feel things falling into place and I'm thrilled to be leaving behind messages about food and my body which I got from my parents when I was 6. After 30 years, it's time to let them go.
And too, time to let go of the idea that there is an epidemic. There ARE problems with the way we eat in the US, the way we work, the way health care is distributed, they way we are disconnected from our bodies, but all the fat-free yogurt in the world isn't gonna change that. Free your mind, and the rest will follow.
By now you've likely heard of the new study which "proves" that fat is "contagious". Unfortunately, that representation is just not very accurate, and it makes some annoying (and possibly harmful) assumptions.
- Being fat is avoidable
- Being fat is abnormal
- Being fat is baaaaaaad
For some people, being fat is unavoidable - they start out in childhood with extra weight and just stay that way - for others it's medication related (example: I gained 30 lbs when I was taking lithium this past fall, the weight just PILED on, and for the most part didn't leave when I stopped the meds), or as for many women, related to a medical condition such as PCOS (Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome).
Being fat is just as normal as being skinny, being thin, being average. Over the whole of human history, there have been fat people. Look to art, folk and fine, for proof of that. Fat men and women are people, just like non fat people are. The idea that fat isn't normal is prevalent and harmful.
This last one is the toughest idea to address - that fat is bad. Fat is fat. Being unhealthy is bad, yes, but FATNESS DOES NOT EQUAL BAD HEALTH. At my heaviest my cholesterol numbers were well below 200, and my overall health good. My blood pressure was also good, although I will concede that it's got better when I was thinner, I do think my life was a lot more stressful (married life, finances), so that was likely a factor.
The "facts" (PDF) that fat people are less healthy, have greater mortality, will always be prone to diabetes and heart disease are not as iron clad as some people would have you believe. The dangers (or to be more mild, harmful effects) of repeated weight loss and gain [yo-yo-ing] are becoming very clear. And the fact is that for people who tend toward heavy, dieting can lead to a slower metabolism, and a weight loss is logically followed by weight gain as their bodies attempt to 'normalize' after a period of deprivation.
Right now in my life I am healthier and happier than I've been in years, really. AND I'm fat. Make of that what you will.
I've ready many, many excellent reactions to this study and how it's being presented (and misrepresented) in the media right now.
Always good are Kate Harding, Harriet Brown and many of the bloggers who are aggregated on this feed.
A good one stop shop for discussion of this study (lots of links) is from On The Whole, and is worth a look.
Please don't think I am not saying that diet, eating habits and other things should not be examined and tweaked to promote optimal health, because I'm not. The food in our school cafeterias alone has me hyperventilating more often than not (filled with hidden sugar, for one thing), nevermind the orgiastic portions at restaurants and the hard-sell advertising to kids and adults alike.
But to base our ideas about what is good for us by if it's "okay" or "good" or "guilt-free" instead of by common sense factors such as if we are hungry, and what are bodies need and request is only asking for trouble. We are given tastebuds and an appetite for a reason. Learning to listen to and respect your body is the best way to open yourself up to better health. I know that when I am craving an apple, I'd better get one, and that when I want chocolate shoppe zanzibar chocolate ice cream, I'm happiest when I *have* it, rather than punishing myself because I *shouldn't*.
Fat Hatred is very real, and it isn't something that fat people can easily avoid. The worst part of it is how it twists everyone's mind up, so that standards of beauty are narrow, and we spend too much time judging ourselves and others by these narrow standards. As hard as it is to re-program my thinking, I'm happy that I've starting to really engage with the struggle to love and accept myself on this level - it has unlocked self acceptance on other levels - in therapy I feel things falling into place and I'm thrilled to be leaving behind messages about food and my body which I got from my parents when I was 6. After 30 years, it's time to let them go.
And too, time to let go of the idea that there is an epidemic. There ARE problems with the way we eat in the US, the way we work, the way health care is distributed, they way we are disconnected from our bodies, but all the fat-free yogurt in the world isn't gonna change that. Free your mind, and the rest will follow.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Dualism
I am happy, in many ways, about many things.
But the opposite could be said as well.
I am hopeful, in many ways, about many things.
But hopelessness often clouds my mind.
I see opportunity, in many things, in many ways.
But sometimes I see nothing but obstacles.
And in this closed-circuit loop of social anxiety and isolation, I feel very very ugly (on the inside).
Still I will try, I will let laughter loose, I will try a smile when I feel I can't do it. But I need to talk about what is going on.
If anyone ever asks me how they can help their friend or lover or son or daughter with depression, I don't know what I will say. Maybe "take them for a walk", or "help them brush their teeth", or "recall a moment between the two of you", or "tell them they deserve to be happy, that you really believe that", or "get informed", or "talk to them" or "don't ignore their genuine requests for help".
Telling everyone that I can that I was feeling depressed, suicidal, scared - that didn't do anything. People trust me, that's what I choose to believe. Not people don't care, but people trust me not to kill myself. They trust me, and I trust me, too. If I didn't I'd swallow my considerable pride and check myself into the county mental health place. But I know my trust may be misplaced, I'd *know* the second I thought about betraying that trust.
So, am I being manipulative by saying this out loud? Because what I am trying to do is let this out. I have too many secrets, secrets which just don't matter to anyone but me, but as long as I hold them in, they work against me. WAIT! I figured it out.
Because of how things are going right now (stress upon stress, social vaccuum), things which would be 'no big deal' are things I can't stop thinking about. I am feeling incredibly sensitive (especially, oddly, with sound). My appetite is suddenly dead. I am brittle.
This will change.
But right now, this is me.
But the opposite could be said as well.
I am hopeful, in many ways, about many things.
But hopelessness often clouds my mind.
I see opportunity, in many things, in many ways.
But sometimes I see nothing but obstacles.
And in this closed-circuit loop of social anxiety and isolation, I feel very very ugly (on the inside).
Still I will try, I will let laughter loose, I will try a smile when I feel I can't do it. But I need to talk about what is going on.
If anyone ever asks me how they can help their friend or lover or son or daughter with depression, I don't know what I will say. Maybe "take them for a walk", or "help them brush their teeth", or "recall a moment between the two of you", or "tell them they deserve to be happy, that you really believe that", or "get informed", or "talk to them" or "don't ignore their genuine requests for help".
Telling everyone that I can that I was feeling depressed, suicidal, scared - that didn't do anything. People trust me, that's what I choose to believe. Not people don't care, but people trust me not to kill myself. They trust me, and I trust me, too. If I didn't I'd swallow my considerable pride and check myself into the county mental health place. But I know my trust may be misplaced, I'd *know* the second I thought about betraying that trust.
So, am I being manipulative by saying this out loud? Because what I am trying to do is let this out. I have too many secrets, secrets which just don't matter to anyone but me, but as long as I hold them in, they work against me. WAIT! I figured it out.
I need to feel safe
I need to feel safe speaking
I need to feel safe speaking my mind
I need to feel safe speaking my mind about EVERYTHING
Because of how things are going right now (stress upon stress, social vaccuum), things which would be 'no big deal' are things I can't stop thinking about. I am feeling incredibly sensitive (especially, oddly, with sound). My appetite is suddenly dead. I am brittle.
This will change.
But right now, this is me.
Friday, June 22, 2007
What makes a girl?
Okay, the post title has more ambition than what I came to post about, but as I was reviewing my Shrek the Third review, I remembered a poignant moment at the 7-year-old's dentist this week. As he was picking out his sticker, I noticed that under the roll of disney princess stickers was a small pile of Snow White stickers.
You know Snow White. the Black Haired princess. With a bob.
Yep, that's the one, the short and dark haired princess. Who is, apparently, not all that popular with the little girls.
And thinking about that reminded me of when I bartered at the childcare place at the YMCA, and a girl asked me if I were a girl or a boy. This was when I had a very "short natural" haircut. But at the time, I was wearing a skirt, had my nails painted, and if I recall correctly, had on a form-fitting t-shirt. In case you don't know, I'm a busty gal. To me it nearly defies explanation how someone could see me as I looked that day and "not be sure". Even a 4-year-old. But this kid, this apparently terribly sheltered kid couldn't recognize that I was female simply because I had short hair. That, I think, is indicative of how deeply fucked up society is 'round here.
So think about it, would you, and if you want to, tell me what makes a girl.
You know Snow White. the Black Haired princess. With a bob.
Yep, that's the one, the short and dark haired princess. Who is, apparently, not all that popular with the little girls.
And thinking about that reminded me of when I bartered at the childcare place at the YMCA, and a girl asked me if I were a girl or a boy. This was when I had a very "short natural" haircut. But at the time, I was wearing a skirt, had my nails painted, and if I recall correctly, had on a form-fitting t-shirt. In case you don't know, I'm a busty gal. To me it nearly defies explanation how someone could see me as I looked that day and "not be sure". Even a 4-year-old. But this kid, this apparently terribly sheltered kid couldn't recognize that I was female simply because I had short hair. That, I think, is indicative of how deeply fucked up society is 'round here.
So think about it, would you, and if you want to, tell me what makes a girl.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
I lack a manifesto
This is something I have thought about a lot for many years. I really have never sat down and written out what I believe. I do want to do that for many things as I started to in the "this is what I think" post below.
This is something I am not here to fix - not right now. Final draft of paper (and I'm really angry this morning because I found an article about how bushco is working hard against international reproductive health programs because they acknowledge abortion as a part of reproductive health care - I do plan to write about this in more detail soon) is nearly done, take home exam also nearly there...
Just wanted to note it for posterity. Manifesto-esque posts will be on the menu for your summer reading (dis)pleasure.
This is something I am not here to fix - not right now. Final draft of paper (and I'm really angry this morning because I found an article about how bushco is working hard against international reproductive health programs because they acknowledge abortion as a part of reproductive health care - I do plan to write about this in more detail soon) is nearly done, take home exam also nearly there...
Just wanted to note it for posterity. Manifesto-esque posts will be on the menu for your summer reading (dis)pleasure.
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