Stop With the Abuse

My professor warned us that we were going to be getting into some "dark" territory. Last night I reread Brokeback Mountain for class and it upset me so much I just had to lie there for a half an hour and feel sad. Child abuse and molestation has been another theme running through the assigned stories lately too. It's hard to finish my homework when I keep feeling like a knife is piercing my heart with every word.

Subbing: A Cruel Mistress

The morning is the easy part, except for waking up, that is excruciating, like being ripped from the womb. But after some tea, things get a lot better. After lunch, they get worse. I yell at children, like really yell. Raise my voice and shout BE QUIET. This quiets them a little, but not much. My throat starts to hurt. I forgot my whistle and there are no extras. Stupid public school.

There are signs all over that say 'Calm Bodies, Calm Minds.' I feel philosophically against these signs until three children get injured in 15 minutes. Then I wonder if a law suit is in my future. A girl breaks her shell necklace and is inconsolable.

I decide to make the diabetic boy from New Zealand the shark in sharks and minnows to boost his self-esteem. Then I wonder if one of the kids will bump into the drip pouch attached to his stomach and rip it out. This doesn't happen and he has the time of his life. He grins at me and his nose is encrusted in green boogers. He is wearing a white tank top with a pirate ship on it. I love him.

God Laughs Last

I just got called into be a gym teacher sub tomorrow at my elementary school alma mater. I really need to get a track suit, asap.

Yes, We Did

Where did those girls go, they were having the worst luck...

Hey, is that them over there in the woods?

Well, hello guys! We were just taking a little break.

Nothing says Obama '08 like brewskis in the woods, right?

I think our influence on the Obama campaign is clear.

2nd Person, Personal

You have been sick with a flu/head cold thing for over a week, but are also broke as a joke, so when the school calls asking you to sub as a gym teacher, you don't say no. Ask what you should wear, and when she says "something casual" put on a green hoodie and black yoga pants. When you get to the school, discover that the other gym teacher is wearing a red, white, and blue track suit. That's ok, it's to be expected.

The first class is kindergarden and you are struck as how tiny, unique, and adorable each child is. Wonder how the hell you've gotten by everyday without such authentic and sincere creatures in your life. Vow to babysit more. To Invest in Children. Some of them whisper so low you can't hear their names, but look them in the eyes and say hi anyway. When they smile, feel fulfilled. Believe that you have just discovered your true calling. Know that you love children and always will. How could you not? They run to sit next to you in the circle, grab your hands when they want your attention, and unselfconsciously hump each other during games. Feel assured of the goodness and beauty of life.

Don't be alarmed when the rest of the day does not go as smoothly as the first block. When a 1st grader asks "Are you a girl?" forgive yourself for replying "Are you?" It's ok to walk away smugly when she looks confused and nods yes. It's also ok for the other gym teacher to overhear the interaction. Cope with the situation by sending out a text message to your friends from the bathroom telling them that you are a lesbian gym teacher for the day. Wait for positive reinforcement to pour in from outside. It will.

Ponder how life takes people in strange directions after you try to convince an 8th grade girl to shoot hoops instead of standing around. Become angry at how much processed sugar is fed to children when the class immediately following lunch is a pack of monsters. Blow a whistle and remind everyone to stay WITHIN THE GREEN LINES! Become overwhelmed when they all rush at you at once and ask to use the bathroom. Deny them all permission to use the water fountain. Feel that they are all a bunch of lazy little slackers. Decide that you were being cruel and allow the next class to get many drinks. Try not to feel personally responsible when a 3rd grader comes back with her head soaking wet. Convince yourself this will not reflect poorly on you. Rationalize that you can't be in all places at all times.

Feel happy when you discover that you went to high school with one of the teachers. Feel in your heart she is also a lesbo. Pray that she won't remember you wearing yoga pants the next time she sees you out. Pray for the day to end quickly. Feel the seconds dragging like minutes and the hours like years. Become disorientated when it is actually time to leave. Write a nice note and leave your number in case they ever need anyone in the future. Wonder at what you will do for money. Feel that you simultaneously never want to leave and can't escape fast enough. Wait until you drive to Whole Foods before changing out of your yoga pants in the car. Getting arrested for indecent exposure on school grounds will surely sink your new career. Lock your keys in the car and call your mom. When she arrives, convince her to buy a free range turkey for Thanksgiving. Then have her buy you hundreds of dollars worth of organic fake meat products. Drive home and collapse into bed.

Thank You, Barack

Barack Obama has already changed my life in so many ways. Besides renewing my faith in the goodness of humanity and the citizens of the U.S. desire to act in it's own self interest, he has also turned me into a news watcher. For the past two weeks, I have enjoyed, that's right enjoyed, watching 60 minutes. Tonight he reconfirmed his committment to close Guantanamo Bay. Friends, I could just cry with joy. In fact, I have, several times since he's been elected.

Erika on Obama

My friend Erika wrote this really nice little story about her election night experience:

Not a single person I've spoken to since yesterday has been anything but joyous at our new state of affairs. Barrack is president. Everyone says that they didn't think it would ever happen and neither did I. But I can't even imagine what it would be like to be an older person today. Particularly an elder who has fought for social justice his/her whole lives. Particularly an elder person of color who has lived through times in history when segregation existed. How do you wake up one morning and have a black president? How does that happen?

Last night I was at a party with Aileen, my girlfriend, and a bunch of other peers whom I met through my Grad program. It just so happened that this party was in Harlem. I'm not sure that the significance of place was apparent to me before the election was called for Obama on CNN. But when it was called, after sobbing and screaming, we all hit the street. And I mean we all hit it. Yelling and screaming and crying and whooping. We had life sized Obama and Biden cardboard cutouts that we brought out – and the host and a young neighbor guy ran down the streets holding them up. People were crying and yelling with joy, cabs honked profusely, young guys jogged and high-fived everyone and took pictures with the life-sized Obama cutout, and everyone, everyone you passed in the street simply said "Obama" as a greeting and nodded. People waved a HUGE American flag outside and it didn't feel falsely patriotic or conservative. It felt good. Not because all of the sudden things have changed. But because all of the sudden it feels good to be a part of that collective called this country. The collective that elected Barack. WE did this.

Anyway, every time I think about last night and this day, I think about how this the first day in a long time, and the first time in my lifetime, that this country transcended itself to be better than we thought we were. And even though I know lots of beautiful and powerfully good people personally, this is the first time I ever thought perhaps they/we are the majority.

If Obama can be president, we can completely overhaul education. If Obama can be president, we can stop war. If Obama can be president, real universal health care seems simple. Antiracism through activism and queer rights seem possible. Not that they are givens, but they are possible.

so happy. so happy. and we will keep working.

She Shot Me

Halloween kind of got buried under all the election excitement but it was actually quite the party weekend. I went to three parties, attempted to go to four, dressed as Andy Warhol and was killed by two different Valerie Solanis'. Totally awesome.

Don't shoot Valerie! On her back Aleah was wearing a sign with a quote from the S.C.U.M. manifesto that I made, it said: The males like death -- it excites him sexually and, already dead inside, he wants to die. I thought it appropriate for Halloween.
Andy hanging with the Black Dahlia, who was a major hottie and a great hostess, despite being dead.

The Rising

My friend Tim read this poem at our Antioch graduation. I had no idea he was planning on doing so, but he is an incredible orator and added so much to the beauty of one of the best days of my life.

A Cute Top is Hard to Find

America, I Celebrate You

Students were cheering and horns were honking as I drove over the Harvard bridge last night, on my way home after watching the election results at Torrance's house. We were watching John Stewart and thought maybe he was fucking with us when he announced the results so early. We both started crying and I didn't stop for a really long time. The eleated texted messages started flying and my favorite was an ealry one from Ashling which just said "OMFG." I think Gossip Girl would agree. OMFG, I am proud to be an American today.

JOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I feel honored to have lived to see this day!

Feels So Good

Everything Feels Hard

I called my aunt in Nevada to remind her to vote and encourage her to vote for Barack. She told me she's voting for McCain and then I told her I hope she doesn't vote. She reminded me everyone has the right to vote, so I pretended I was kidding. I am trying to remember that my family member's views are not a personal attack on me but I felt a rage welling up inside of me and then a desire to cry. It's so hard not to take this all very personally, even though it's REALLY NOT ABOUT ME. Tomorrow is going to be an intense day, I'm hopeful but nervous.

A little later...

Someone recommended that I throw a fit if I want to, so I started yelling and rolling around on the floor when Artemisia came running over to see what was wrong. She started purring and climbed up on my chest and then drooled right in my mouth. Kitties make it all better.

Beardo Manifesto

All you folk/punk loving ladies out there will remember, perhaps not so fondly, Bitch & Animal's "Pussy Manifesto" song. Last night I was tipped off to the male equivalent: Whiskerino, a website where men celebrate themselves through charting the growth of their facial hair.

Here is an excerpt from their manifesto:

We are alienated from our own facial hair.

Society tells us that full beards are unacceptable. Businessmen, politicians, bankers, and the like are all clean shaven; all demonstrating the standards that middle class society expects us to maintain.

In other words, these are all examples of "the man" keeping down nascent beards everywhere. These are the people that alienate us from our masculinity, forcing us to shave and adopt public personas which might not reflect our own true inner animal.

What a rousing call to freedom. Take back your beards, brave men, creepy as they may look.