So here's the thing.
I participated in National Novel Writing Month exactly once (Nov. 2011). The novel I wrote then remains unedited and unread. It was fun and viciously challenging. I'm glad I did it. However I far from primarily consider myself a novelist. My writing priorities actually go something like this,
poetry
essays/blogposts
prose poems
short stories
novels.
So while I won't say I'm not a novelist I will say that writing a novel is not high on my list of priorities right now. In light of this preference and my fierce passion to get better at nonfiction, this year I've elected to hold myself to the daily 1,666 word count demand of NaNoWriMo (50,000 words in a month). Free from the expectation of a novel I'll encouraging myself to daily draft both a personal essay/otherwise creative nonfic piece and a poem.
In addition to writing the directed 1,500+ words I'm resolving to blog every day this November. As someone who generally posts about twice a month obviously this terrifies me. Writing 1,500+ words can take at the very least 40 minutes (and I'm anticipating the switching genres will only take longer) and editing a drafted blogpost usually takes 1.5-2 hours. This is a huge undertaking. And it is bound to have some kinks.
In the past two years I've tried to hold to content of this blog to some standard of coherence and relevance/usefulness the communities I care about. I will still attempt to meet this standard, but I can't promise that the quality of my upcoming daily posts will not be somewhat erratic. Bear with me friends, it's gonna be a long month. And please please please comment on upcoming posts, especially if something you read sounds interesting yet unfinished. I plan to make updated/expanded/edited post on the things I'll likely only be able to skim by doing daily posts.
Thanks!
<3 WRM
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
I need consent to be normal because sex is normal
Every time I see a project like this the cockles of my heart open like a bird's voice to the sunrise.
I am thrilled overjoyed and dancing in solidarity to these messages. They are important educational messages that can and I am sure do stamp out rape culture and prevent rapes and assaults.
I am thrilled overjoyed and dancing in solidarity to these messages. They are important educational messages that can and I am sure do stamp out rape culture and prevent rapes and assaults.
But in my mind it is not enough. I by no means am calling for the people doing this important work to stop, or to say that their work is insufficient to it's intended purpose. It is appropriately designed clearly worded and will probably be politically effective. What I AM saying is that the intended purpose of consent education need to be bigger and go beyond just sex.
I've written in the past about consent-positivity and even provided some models for respecting other's (potential) boundaries. But sometimes I feel like I am the only one.
I am so deeply passionate about pushing conversations about consent beyond just the sex for two basic reasons.
The first is strategic, if we teach and model respectful consent in nonsexual everyday interactions there there will already be a a common groundwork of practice and intelligence that can be easily applied to sexual interactions.
The second is conceptual: I think about sex as an everyday interaction. And not just because I masturbate/have partnered sex pretty much daily. The (im)moral and highly sensationalized lessons our culture teaches about sexual interactions are bunk. Much of the sex-positive movement has done a fabulous job of identifying this exactly what I mean:
Sex is normal*. Part of it being normal is that not everyone is into it and everyone is into it differently. Sex is normal in the way that pop music is normal. There're many variations and many ways to enjoy pop music/sex, most people are specific in their tastes and not everyone likes what you like and some people don't like pop music/sex at all.
I am sick of culture treating sex as if it's some sort of voodoo magic. As if it were so vastly different from other social phenomena**. Yes in many cases it is a highly vulnerable activity, but humans are very well suited to being vulnerable with one another. Not in all cases but in many, sex is a normal way for humans beings to be vulnerable with each other (certainly not the only or the 'right' way for everyone or every relationship!).
Simply put I want the conversations and political passion surrounding consent to be expanded to nonsexual contexts because sex is as normal as any other interaction between humans and I need consent to become the normal context for normal interactions.
I've written in the past about consent-positivity and even provided some models for respecting other's (potential) boundaries. But sometimes I feel like I am the only one.
I am so deeply passionate about pushing conversations about consent beyond just the sex for two basic reasons.
The first is strategic, if we teach and model respectful consent in nonsexual everyday interactions there there will already be a a common groundwork of practice and intelligence that can be easily applied to sexual interactions.
The second is conceptual: I think about sex as an everyday interaction. And not just because I masturbate/have partnered sex pretty much daily. The (im)moral and highly sensationalized lessons our culture teaches about sexual interactions are bunk. Much of the sex-positive movement has done a fabulous job of identifying this exactly what I mean:
Sex is normal*. Part of it being normal is that not everyone is into it and everyone is into it differently. Sex is normal in the way that pop music is normal. There're many variations and many ways to enjoy pop music/sex, most people are specific in their tastes and not everyone likes what you like and some people don't like pop music/sex at all.
I am sick of culture treating sex as if it's some sort of voodoo magic. As if it were so vastly different from other social phenomena**. Yes in many cases it is a highly vulnerable activity, but humans are very well suited to being vulnerable with one another. Not in all cases but in many, sex is a normal way for humans beings to be vulnerable with each other (certainly not the only or the 'right' way for everyone or every relationship!).
Simply put I want the conversations and political passion surrounding consent to be expanded to nonsexual contexts because sex is as normal as any other interaction between humans and I need consent to become the normal context for normal interactions.
*while "normal" has often been used to denote moral approval/acceptance rest assured dear readers I am NOT using "normal" in this way. As an exceptional deviant in many ways "normal" has never felt like a good word in my mouth. I am using "normal" in a sociological sense to denote trends in human behavior.
**I recognize the history and current relationships between sex and violence. Sex being tied to violence, unfortunately does not make it abnormal though the frequency with which sex is related to violence is disgustingly abnormal. Because sex is often vulnerable and we live in a world where exploitation is an unfortunate reality, it is harrowing but not all that surprising that sexual violence is so often used to exploit that vulnerability.
**I recognize the history and current relationships between sex and violence. Sex being tied to violence, unfortunately does not make it abnormal though the frequency with which sex is related to violence is disgustingly abnormal. Because sex is often vulnerable and we live in a world where exploitation is an unfortunate reality, it is harrowing but not all that surprising that sexual violence is so often used to exploit that vulnerability.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
The necessary unpacking of slut shaming
During the recent and highly contentious exchange between Miley Cyrus and Sinead O'Connor I had the opportunity to have lots of interesting and valuable discussions surrounding appropriation, objectification, and sexual expression. Through these discussions I was able to codify my political stance when it comes to slut shaming.
When "slut" becomes an identity (as some are struggling for it to become through its reclamation) it separates women into categories of sluts/nonsluts. This distinction divides feminists communities and does nothing beyond support individual declarations of identities (which should not be the primary/only function of feminism).
By far the most simple & frequent critique of Sinead's letter was that she was engaging in slut shaming. I understand where the need for this critique comes. It is important but I chose not to write about the slut shaming aspects of the letter in my post and instead made notes about my resistance to use the term.
Slowly I came to realize that my resistance came from a feeling of incompleteness and that it wasn't just this instance of internet people shouting "slut shaming!" that felt incomplete.
I shy away from the using the term "slut shaming" not because I don't recognize and want others to see the sexist behavior it identifies but because I believe the term itself can and has in some instances become a catch-all for very general array of the sex-related oppression women face. In radical contexts catch-alls can easily become problematic excuses to stop defining and going into the complex detail for that oppression. A catch-all runs the risk of overgeneralizing things that are complex and need complex definitions.
In the example I cite in a previous post a friend was asked by "concerned" parents to cover up her "dangerous" breasts so the group of young girls she was traveling with would be "safe" from lusty European men.
We agree that this behavior is both ridiculous and disgusting. We discussed this a potential slut shaming.
Slut shaming as defined by wikipedia is: "the act of making any person feel guilty or inferior for certain sexual behaviors or desires that deviate from traditional or orthodox gender expectations."
Based on her account and this definition I don't think it was. Or at least not just that. To me it was straight up sexual harassment and body policing at the hands of trusted authority figures. In fact they way she was dressing had little-nothing to do with her expressing her sexuality. It was the parents that assumed her clothing choices were "sexual", so how could it have been slut shaming?
Slowly I came to realize that my resistance came from a feeling of incompleteness and that it wasn't just this instance of internet people shouting "slut shaming!" that felt incomplete.
I shy away from the using the term "slut shaming" not because I don't recognize and want others to see the sexist behavior it identifies but because I believe the term itself can and has in some instances become a catch-all for very general array of the sex-related oppression women face. In radical contexts catch-alls can easily become problematic excuses to stop defining and going into the complex detail for that oppression. A catch-all runs the risk of overgeneralizing things that are complex and need complex definitions.
In the example I cite in a previous post a friend was asked by "concerned" parents to cover up her "dangerous" breasts so the group of young girls she was traveling with would be "safe" from lusty European men.
We agree that this behavior is both ridiculous and disgusting. We discussed this a potential slut shaming.
Slut shaming as defined by wikipedia is: "the act of making any person feel guilty or inferior for certain sexual behaviors or desires that deviate from traditional or orthodox gender expectations."
Based on her account and this definition I don't think it was. Or at least not just that. To me it was straight up sexual harassment and body policing at the hands of trusted authority figures. In fact they way she was dressing had little-nothing to do with her expressing her sexuality. It was the parents that assumed her clothing choices were "sexual", so how could it have been slut shaming?
When slut shaming is identified those doing the identifying run the risk of making the mistaken assumption that the subject of the bullying/harassment/shaming is indeed expressing their sexuality. Regardless of what they are wearing we can't know for certain that someone is expressing their sexuality unless they tell us explicitly.
The language of slut shaming is especially problematic in light of recent efforts of some groups to reclaim the word "slut" as an identity.
When "slut" becomes an identity (as some are struggling for it to become through its reclamation) it separates women into categories of sluts/nonsluts. This distinction divides feminists communities and does nothing beyond support individual declarations of identities (which should not be the primary/only function of feminism).
Instead of dividing women based on sexual identities let's acknowledge that we are all humans and we all experience desire. Do we really need a label that denotes that some of us are willing to express the sexual ones?
When slut becomes an identity the harassment/shaming that is related to the expression of sexuality become about identity. The body/behavior policing, the sexual harassment and the gross slew of things referred to as slut shaming isn't about the identities of those targeted (beyond the fact that they are women). It's about their behaviors and expressions.
Slut shaming is not about "you are wrong" but are about "you are doing it wrong". And by "it" I mean womanhood. Slut shaming is about tacitly enforcing the misogynist rules of womanhood. If we want to be radical (get at the root of things) we need to dig in and figure out what specifically is being denied and why. We can't just be satisfied by just calling oppressive behavior "slut shaming" because it's not just about the (slut/nonslut) identity of the person being shamed, it's also about how that shaming fits into the broader context of oppression.
When slut becomes an identity the harassment/shaming that is related to the expression of sexuality become about identity. The body/behavior policing, the sexual harassment and the gross slew of things referred to as slut shaming isn't about the identities of those targeted (beyond the fact that they are women). It's about their behaviors and expressions.
Slut shaming is not about "you are wrong" but are about "you are doing it wrong". And by "it" I mean womanhood. Slut shaming is about tacitly enforcing the misogynist rules of womanhood. If we want to be radical (get at the root of things) we need to dig in and figure out what specifically is being denied and why. We can't just be satisfied by just calling oppressive behavior "slut shaming" because it's not just about the (slut/nonslut) identity of the person being shamed, it's also about how that shaming fits into the broader context of oppression.
It's not enough to see the objectifying oppression of a woman and call it "slut shaming". It's a great first step, but it is just a start. In order to combat the complex nature of sexist oppression
we need to continue making space in our politics for corresponding complexity.
we need to continue making space in our politics for corresponding complexity.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
An Open Letter to anyone confused or enraged by the exchange between Miley Cyrus and Sinead O'Connor
I usually don't write much about pop culture, but the confusion and divisiveness surrounding the recent exchange between Miley Cyrus and Sinead O'Connor has been so intense both in what I have read and within myself that I had to write something about it.
First, I don't think it allows for much room for complexity when those of us watching and commenting on the exchange between these two women to call it a "feud". It only serves to generate further animosity to encourage divisiveness between two people. There is a conflict here but calling it a feud and taking up sides does nothing to encourage resolution.
Because I do not wish to add any fuel to the perception of their exchange as a feud I need to state immediately that I wish to take the side of neither party. Or rather I want to take both their sides because this is not a case of one musician against another. It is a case of all creators and women against the oppressive force of patriarchy and the vicious capitalist exploits of the music industry.
I have not seen and have no desire to see the Wrecking Ball video. I generally avoid Cyrus's work if I can. I find her oeuvre boring and vulgar. I don't find her work vulgar because of the sex/nudity. The amount of sexuality isn't vulgar, the way she replicates the patriarchy and appropriates black/hood culture when doing so is what disgusts me.
When she performed at the VMAs I made a few disapproving tweets and left it at that. I helped that many amazing feminist and anti-racist writers immediately identified the offensively problematic elements of that performance (literal objectification of WOC and unabashed appropriation of black culture to name a VERY few). I even thought it a strange sort of fortune that the problematic elements of that performance where were so obviously racist that even those with little exposure to anti-oppression could notice (kind of like how Seth McFarlane's Oscar hosting was SO sexist that people DID notice and were disgusted).
This week however, with Sinead's open letter and Miley's response there is less obvious stuff going on. It's unfortunately extremely public and very contentious. This is a hard knot of colliding and intersecting oppressions.
If you have not done so please read Sinead's letter to Miley now because I'm going to respond to specific components.
Before I get to the critiquing part I want to commend Sinead for trying to warn Miley about the predatory and exploitative nature of the music industry (and let's be honest the world at large). I am open to the reality that this realization might come as a "duh" to Miley (whose been around the industry her whole life), but it IS one that anyone working within that industry would benefit from remembering and strategizing against.
So yeah. I'm all for Sinead's call for Miley to be vigilant about the ways in which the music industry is trying to exploit her (we should ALL be more vigilant about the ways in which patriarchal capitalist systems are looking to exploit us), but that is where my support stops. And where Sinead begins doing some pretty subtle and serious concern trolling. I recognize the bravery and concern it takes to attempt and intervention but it needs to be done respectfully and in several ways this Sinead's open letter just wasn't.
My biggest beefs can be boiled down to two basic complaints:
1.) The use of "prostitution" as a linguistic scare tactic. It completely throws sex workers under the bus to use their profession as a means of degrading comparison. I'm harkened back to the maddening distinction Tyra banks so loved to tout when it came to shaming any contestant of ANTM who'd had any history at all of stripping/exotic dancing. Using the language of prostitution in this derogatory fashion creates a hierarchy of women who are either worthy of human decency or who aren't and clearly those who "sell themselves" as Sinead puts it are less worthy of human treatment, which means... protection apparently which bring me to my second point
2.) "You ought be protected as a precious young lady".
In this we find the most glaring example of concern trolling and victim blaming. All of my fears that were stirred up by Sinead's use of the word "prostitution" were suddenly confirmed. For Sinead "lady"=someone worth saving/protection=someone not a prostitute. In conversation about the letter yesterday a friend was brave enough to share with me that Sinead's letter had reminded her of a time when on a trip through europe with friends she had been asked by their parents to cover up her breasts more carefully because they might attract dangerous attention from men.
The problem in Sinead's call for protection & my friend's story are the same: that women are somehow inciting the violence and oppression that exists in the world. And that if they just behaved as proper ladies (and covered up) they would be "protected".
This idea is sexist and exclusionary. The idea that she should be "protected" is bunk. It denies her agency and does nothing to challenge the reality that the world is dangerous in ways beyond the control or any one person (protector or protected). Protection and preventative measures only go so far and are only available to those who can afford them (whether the cost be in $ or in compliance to "ladyship"). When we live in a culture that perpetuates it all the time there is no way sure way to protect against being harmed by the violence of predatory and patriarchal exploitation.
I have more one smallish cut of beef about all of this. Why did this letter need to be open and public? In some sense Sinead's making public her disapproval for Miley's work creates a perfect beacon of faux-rightouesness for everyone who thinks that sex and sexual express is something women need to be protected from.
I find Miley's responses to Sinead deeply disrespectful and abusive in ways that are pretty fucking obvious. Just because I have some beefs with Sinead's letter and approach doesn't mean I think she need to be bullied by Cyrus and her supporters.
I know scarce little about Sinead's mental/emotional health and relationship to the music industry. I chose not to focus on those things in this piece. Many are defending Sinead's misstep on the bases of the trauma the music industry inflicted on her. And yes. Trauma is valid. Totally and completely. But victims and survivors of trauma don't get a special pass to shame/boss/save others who have had or are having similar experiences.
I understand that seeing people make choices that might hurt them in the long run is painful. And yes, speaking up in those instances can be life saving, but interventions like this can and must be done with complete respect for the agency of the people we are trying to reach. We can't think we can save them, or that we can know their experience better than they do.
The dismantling of the patriarchy will not be accomplished by ignoring the agency of others, using sex work as a specter of shame and/or calling for protection for some women. Real prevention and harm reduction starts when we require everyone to confront and take responsibility for the violence and oppression they either directly participate in or are complicity endorsing in themselves and their communities by not speaking up. None of us are exclusively victims or perpetrators. We are all uniquely harmed by and responsible for the oppressions that exist in this world.
Sinead fails to communicate this in her letter. Her derogatory use of "prostitution", her calling for Miley's protection, highlight the uncomfortable cultural tension between the confining roles that patriarchy allows women to inhabit: the whore or the (protected) virgin/lady.
First, I don't think it allows for much room for complexity when those of us watching and commenting on the exchange between these two women to call it a "feud". It only serves to generate further animosity to encourage divisiveness between two people. There is a conflict here but calling it a feud and taking up sides does nothing to encourage resolution.
Because I do not wish to add any fuel to the perception of their exchange as a feud I need to state immediately that I wish to take the side of neither party. Or rather I want to take both their sides because this is not a case of one musician against another. It is a case of all creators and women against the oppressive force of patriarchy and the vicious capitalist exploits of the music industry.
I have not seen and have no desire to see the Wrecking Ball video. I generally avoid Cyrus's work if I can. I find her oeuvre boring and vulgar. I don't find her work vulgar because of the sex/nudity. The amount of sexuality isn't vulgar, the way she replicates the patriarchy and appropriates black/hood culture when doing so is what disgusts me.
When she performed at the VMAs I made a few disapproving tweets and left it at that. I helped that many amazing feminist and anti-racist writers immediately identified the offensively problematic elements of that performance (literal objectification of WOC and unabashed appropriation of black culture to name a VERY few). I even thought it a strange sort of fortune that the problematic elements of that performance where were so obviously racist that even those with little exposure to anti-oppression could notice (kind of like how Seth McFarlane's Oscar hosting was SO sexist that people DID notice and were disgusted).
This week however, with Sinead's open letter and Miley's response there is less obvious stuff going on. It's unfortunately extremely public and very contentious. This is a hard knot of colliding and intersecting oppressions.
If you have not done so please read Sinead's letter to Miley now because I'm going to respond to specific components.
Before I get to the critiquing part I want to commend Sinead for trying to warn Miley about the predatory and exploitative nature of the music industry (and let's be honest the world at large). I am open to the reality that this realization might come as a "duh" to Miley (whose been around the industry her whole life), but it IS one that anyone working within that industry would benefit from remembering and strategizing against.
So yeah. I'm all for Sinead's call for Miley to be vigilant about the ways in which the music industry is trying to exploit her (we should ALL be more vigilant about the ways in which patriarchal capitalist systems are looking to exploit us), but that is where my support stops. And where Sinead begins doing some pretty subtle and serious concern trolling. I recognize the bravery and concern it takes to attempt and intervention but it needs to be done respectfully and in several ways this Sinead's open letter just wasn't.
My biggest beefs can be boiled down to two basic complaints:
1.) The use of "prostitution" as a linguistic scare tactic. It completely throws sex workers under the bus to use their profession as a means of degrading comparison. I'm harkened back to the maddening distinction Tyra banks so loved to tout when it came to shaming any contestant of ANTM who'd had any history at all of stripping/exotic dancing. Using the language of prostitution in this derogatory fashion creates a hierarchy of women who are either worthy of human decency or who aren't and clearly those who "sell themselves" as Sinead puts it are less worthy of human treatment, which means... protection apparently which bring me to my second point
2.) "You ought be protected as a precious young lady".
In this we find the most glaring example of concern trolling and victim blaming. All of my fears that were stirred up by Sinead's use of the word "prostitution" were suddenly confirmed. For Sinead "lady"=someone worth saving/protection=someone not a prostitute. In conversation about the letter yesterday a friend was brave enough to share with me that Sinead's letter had reminded her of a time when on a trip through europe with friends she had been asked by their parents to cover up her breasts more carefully because they might attract dangerous attention from men.
The problem in Sinead's call for protection & my friend's story are the same: that women are somehow inciting the violence and oppression that exists in the world. And that if they just behaved as proper ladies (and covered up) they would be "protected".
This idea is sexist and exclusionary. The idea that she should be "protected" is bunk. It denies her agency and does nothing to challenge the reality that the world is dangerous in ways beyond the control or any one person (protector or protected). Protection and preventative measures only go so far and are only available to those who can afford them (whether the cost be in $ or in compliance to "ladyship"). When we live in a culture that perpetuates it all the time there is no way sure way to protect against being harmed by the violence of predatory and patriarchal exploitation.
I have more one smallish cut of beef about all of this. Why did this letter need to be open and public? In some sense Sinead's making public her disapproval for Miley's work creates a perfect beacon of faux-rightouesness for everyone who thinks that sex and sexual express is something women need to be protected from.
I find Miley's responses to Sinead deeply disrespectful and abusive in ways that are pretty fucking obvious. Just because I have some beefs with Sinead's letter and approach doesn't mean I think she need to be bullied by Cyrus and her supporters.
I know scarce little about Sinead's mental/emotional health and relationship to the music industry. I chose not to focus on those things in this piece. Many are defending Sinead's misstep on the bases of the trauma the music industry inflicted on her. And yes. Trauma is valid. Totally and completely. But victims and survivors of trauma don't get a special pass to shame/boss/save others who have had or are having similar experiences.
I understand that seeing people make choices that might hurt them in the long run is painful. And yes, speaking up in those instances can be life saving, but interventions like this can and must be done with complete respect for the agency of the people we are trying to reach. We can't think we can save them, or that we can know their experience better than they do.
The dismantling of the patriarchy will not be accomplished by ignoring the agency of others, using sex work as a specter of shame and/or calling for protection for some women. Real prevention and harm reduction starts when we require everyone to confront and take responsibility for the violence and oppression they either directly participate in or are complicity endorsing in themselves and their communities by not speaking up. None of us are exclusively victims or perpetrators. We are all uniquely harmed by and responsible for the oppressions that exist in this world.
Sinead fails to communicate this in her letter. Her derogatory use of "prostitution", her calling for Miley's protection, highlight the uncomfortable cultural tension between the confining roles that patriarchy allows women to inhabit: the whore or the (protected) virgin/lady.
Due to Sinead's unfortunate missteps her open letter ends up echoing the privileged anti-sex work activists blindly shouting "save yourself" at sex workers. It's well meant but deeply condescending, and full of impractical solutions to the symptoms of our larger condition of patriarchal and capitalist oppression.
Postscript and preview of future post:
Postscript and preview of future post:
I've heard the cries of "slut shaming" about Sinead's letter and intend to address "slut shaming" in an upcoming post. Please stay tuned.
Friday, September 27, 2013
I made an e-book!
It's been a long while since I have posted. Rest assured, my goodbye letter to Seattle was not a goodbye to this blog.
However saying goodbye to Seattle and starting my long transition toward a brand new state (I'll eventually be landing in Madison WI this winter/spring) has been quite a task. Writing of course has remained a constant but finding time to refine my words has proven a challenge.
I have been putting work into a personal writing project for the past few months. As some of you may now I've been experiencing some health problems lately. The problems themselves aren't new but their severity and frequency have spiked in the last six months. I've been learning how to navigate the world at a reduced capacity and it's been tough. More than just physically.
I made a project out of documenting the disconnect and frustration I felt with my body, the medical industry, and my own conception of self.
I am really excited to announce that in addition to the various hard copies of Symptoms I've been printing out and sending off to my loved ones I finally took the plunge and e published the contents of this collection via amazon.
This is the result.
I wanted to share it with the world. I've wanted to since I finished the project last month.
Hell, it was tough not to immediately publish some of the things that came out of this project right here on this blog.
So sorry to have held out on y'all but it needed to be a collection. As recourse I'll let you taste the preface:
Crafting records, quiet bravery, and beginnings
This is just a beginning.
We all know what it is to want to feel better than how we're feeling. This is a beginning because the work of becoming comfortable in our bodies is never finished. This work deserves recognition. It is my hope that the pieces in this collection offer a safer space to recognize the discomfort of living.
In the following pages I detail my own experience of discomfort, frustration, and conflict within my own body. In doing so I have crafted as true a record as I can of my body's experiences. I, like so many, often misread or misremember my body's signals. So when there are minute shifts in my functions and capabilities it can feel like my body has betrayed me. Having this record reminds me that when it comes to my body there is not a “normal” and that my expectations can always and often should be changed.
Going through uncomfortable body stuff has challenged me to surrender to uncertainty as much as I can. And to really listen for new information about how to live in my body more sustainably. This surrender requires a new kind of bravery. One that is quiet and almost invisible, but a bravery that has become vital to my survival.
On your journey through the words that follow and beyond, I hope that you find this bravery and that it carries you from beginning to a place where you can feel better than you're feeling now.
If you've already received a paper copy of Symptoms buying an ebook version is a great way to show your support of my writing.
If you don't have an e-reader or really really just want a paper copy let me know and I'll send you one by post.
Thanks.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
I'm breaking up with my city and it's tough as nails
To My Dearest Seattle,
I love you, but you have broken my heart.
Not swiftly or intentionally I think, but for three years there's been a slow crack growing in my chest. This crack's been pulling slowly open from the repetitive tension of lacking that, for so long, went beneath my notice.
I've made love to the grooves of your geography. Found comfort in the crooked of you disagreeing streets. The curling friendship of your neighborhoods has cushioned the empty of my resources these three years we have shared together.
I came to you, Seattle my ass freshly kicked out of a rigorous and a sadly less-than-radical teaching program. I showed up with 800$ in my pocket and no job guaranteed. I came seeking rebirth, looking to put some roots down. With you I wanted to fuck around unfurl in ways I was afraid to do while I was digging myself into the debt of college. I let the story of starting fresh seduce me. I believed I could prosper here.
Little did I know my belief in your gift of prosperity was the same one that ruined my college experience. It's the one that so many young folks of my generation are painfully and swiftly recognizing as a false promise.
When I arrived I sunk the last of my borrowed money into you. Dear city, I've spent the time since waiting for a return on that wistful investment. In the three years we've been together I've been out of work more than I've be in it. I worked as a pizza delivery guy and a data entry clerk. I pulled shots at a doomed co-op in the south end. For six weeks I drove through winter's hardest hours of morning with a van full of fresh bread I couldn't afford to buy.
I took a job on a boat giving tours. I proudly told strangers all about your most beautiful features. And in some ways I loved it (minus the 10 hour days and rigorous nautical duties). Talking about you always brought a smile to my face and almost made those grueling duties worth it. I used to dream about mentioning you and my love for you on the back of my very first bestseller. But your lack of give back has stopped me from dreaming about such things.
But I loved you before all of this, before I even came close. Seattle I loved you before I sunk my trust into your salty soil. It would take me days to list everything I love about you. Every third poem I write is about your body. None of my other lovers can boast this number. But you've never belonged to me. Your salt, who's flavor I love, has continually rejected the all of the roots I've tried to stick into it.
I've moved 7 times in the past 3 years. Your arms may have been open but not always comfortable. Even in this last year, while I've had enough resources to render my poverty invisible, while my address finally stayed the same for a little, I could feel you shifting, still feel you constricting.
This is tough for me to say. Because if anyone asks me where I am from I will say “puget sound born and raised”. I'm proud of how constant you've been in my life. I love your fractional politics and your highly visible friction between urban an rural communities. In so many ways we are family, you and I.
I don't even know how to contemplate living someplace without salt in the air. Your breath is all that know.
But I've begun to prepare my lungs anyway. Started slowly packing a few bags. I'm tired of being the only one of my friends who doesn't pay their own rent.
My dearest Seattle, I simply have no idea how to make it with you. I've always felt at least one step behind your gorgeously rapid cultural beat. I have been intimidated by your purportedly artsy and encouraging communities. Those I've attempted to dip into have always seemed a little too cool for me. And I've been dipping into your icy for long enough to see that its not just my impostor syndrome anymore. As cultured as you are Seattle, you are the wrong city for beginners like me.
I am not a prodigy (I gave up this version of myself long ago). I'm actually a lot slower than you think I am. Addicted to the uncertainty of learning, I don't know if you can wait for me to catch up anymore. And as much as I love the way my legs long to race when I see you looking at me, this time I need to resist the way you tug at my sensibilities.
I'm not sure of what I am going to do with this life. With you, Seattle there is so little room for confusion. I always feel you begging me for a definitive answer to questions my body is not ready to set free. Can't you see? I want to stay in the swill of my curiosity. Curiosity is my salt.
I recently saw some pop article that rated you as the hardest working city in the US. With most residents putting in a combined 56 hours per week of work, volunteering, and other scheduled activity. Who knows if it's true, but it felt true when I read it. Right now and for the near future, I don't intend to work a regular 40 week. I'm not going to over-volunteer or compromise on how much work I know my body can and cannot do. I don't intend to martyr my energy for the righteousness that's touted as one of your defining features. I am still playing, I am still trying things out and in some cases doing what you some of your other residents would call "wasting time". But I'm still a beginner. And I'm not going to rush anymore.
People often talk about the "Seattle chill" (some of your residents will express interest in an event or relationship then not show up/follow through). And sometimes and I think that this chill is an unfortunate byproduct of how you pressure us to always be doing and to be pulled in so many directions. We're drawn to commit our energy and interests in ways that are unsustainable and eventually become disingenuous.
As my health has declined in the last several months I've become less able to keep the same commitments I've had in the past. Those commitments have become less and less sustainable I've not had any sort of replacement or acceptance of my new shift in/ability. I am afraid continuing like this will lead to a breakdown in my integrity.
I have never lived anyplace else. So maybe this is a problem everywhere, for every city. But I'm willing to strike out and see if there is a city out there that might just be a little better for beginners like me.
Seattle I want to be with you, but you ask so much from me and you don't give back enough for me to stay healthy and honest to the person I aspire to be. So I've decided to leave.
I'm leaving with less money, less hope, and less health than I came to you with. I am leaving to see if I can find or create that which you could not give me.
I'm leaving in September. I might come back in November, or February, or April. I know you hate when plans aren't concrete, I do too, but I can't say for sure when I'll be back.
Because I might not come back.
And yes, Seattle, it's true that there are parts of you I can never leave. I've embedded my identity in your most precious residents; sunk my love poems into your salty pockets; mixed my saliva with the sweat of your distant ocean neck. My bike and I have sliced through your avenues churning, yearning, and howling out 80's power ballads.
Oh the glorious moments we shared! Like the first morning of this year, when I was wildly hungover you convinced me to climb out to you. You snagged my vision on your distance, on the crisp of your wide cyan embrace. The cold comfort of a mountain range steady behind each of my shoulders pushed me and my bicycle forward. In that open moment, emptied of breath, it was easy to love the pressure of you and to forget how you constrict me, my gorgeous winding salt water lover.
I love you so much. And I'll send you so many post cards. Thank you for giving me what you did. I think we both wish that it had been enough.
<3
WRM
I love you, but you have broken my heart.
Not swiftly or intentionally I think, but for three years there's been a slow crack growing in my chest. This crack's been pulling slowly open from the repetitive tension of lacking that, for so long, went beneath my notice.
I've made love to the grooves of your geography. Found comfort in the crooked of you disagreeing streets. The curling friendship of your neighborhoods has cushioned the empty of my resources these three years we have shared together.
I came to you, Seattle my ass freshly kicked out of a rigorous and a sadly less-than-radical teaching program. I showed up with 800$ in my pocket and no job guaranteed. I came seeking rebirth, looking to put some roots down. With you I wanted to fuck around unfurl in ways I was afraid to do while I was digging myself into the debt of college. I let the story of starting fresh seduce me. I believed I could prosper here.
Little did I know my belief in your gift of prosperity was the same one that ruined my college experience. It's the one that so many young folks of my generation are painfully and swiftly recognizing as a false promise.
When I arrived I sunk the last of my borrowed money into you. Dear city, I've spent the time since waiting for a return on that wistful investment. In the three years we've been together I've been out of work more than I've be in it. I worked as a pizza delivery guy and a data entry clerk. I pulled shots at a doomed co-op in the south end. For six weeks I drove through winter's hardest hours of morning with a van full of fresh bread I couldn't afford to buy.
I took a job on a boat giving tours. I proudly told strangers all about your most beautiful features. And in some ways I loved it (minus the 10 hour days and rigorous nautical duties). Talking about you always brought a smile to my face and almost made those grueling duties worth it. I used to dream about mentioning you and my love for you on the back of my very first bestseller. But your lack of give back has stopped me from dreaming about such things.
But I loved you before all of this, before I even came close. Seattle I loved you before I sunk my trust into your salty soil. It would take me days to list everything I love about you. Every third poem I write is about your body. None of my other lovers can boast this number. But you've never belonged to me. Your salt, who's flavor I love, has continually rejected the all of the roots I've tried to stick into it.
I've moved 7 times in the past 3 years. Your arms may have been open but not always comfortable. Even in this last year, while I've had enough resources to render my poverty invisible, while my address finally stayed the same for a little, I could feel you shifting, still feel you constricting.
This is tough for me to say. Because if anyone asks me where I am from I will say “puget sound born and raised”. I'm proud of how constant you've been in my life. I love your fractional politics and your highly visible friction between urban an rural communities. In so many ways we are family, you and I.
I don't even know how to contemplate living someplace without salt in the air. Your breath is all that know.
But I've begun to prepare my lungs anyway. Started slowly packing a few bags. I'm tired of being the only one of my friends who doesn't pay their own rent.
My dearest Seattle, I simply have no idea how to make it with you. I've always felt at least one step behind your gorgeously rapid cultural beat. I have been intimidated by your purportedly artsy and encouraging communities. Those I've attempted to dip into have always seemed a little too cool for me. And I've been dipping into your icy for long enough to see that its not just my impostor syndrome anymore. As cultured as you are Seattle, you are the wrong city for beginners like me.
I am not a prodigy (I gave up this version of myself long ago). I'm actually a lot slower than you think I am. Addicted to the uncertainty of learning, I don't know if you can wait for me to catch up anymore. And as much as I love the way my legs long to race when I see you looking at me, this time I need to resist the way you tug at my sensibilities.
I'm not sure of what I am going to do with this life. With you, Seattle there is so little room for confusion. I always feel you begging me for a definitive answer to questions my body is not ready to set free. Can't you see? I want to stay in the swill of my curiosity. Curiosity is my salt.
I recently saw some pop article that rated you as the hardest working city in the US. With most residents putting in a combined 56 hours per week of work, volunteering, and other scheduled activity. Who knows if it's true, but it felt true when I read it. Right now and for the near future, I don't intend to work a regular 40 week. I'm not going to over-volunteer or compromise on how much work I know my body can and cannot do. I don't intend to martyr my energy for the righteousness that's touted as one of your defining features. I am still playing, I am still trying things out and in some cases doing what you some of your other residents would call "wasting time". But I'm still a beginner. And I'm not going to rush anymore.
People often talk about the "Seattle chill" (some of your residents will express interest in an event or relationship then not show up/follow through). And sometimes and I think that this chill is an unfortunate byproduct of how you pressure us to always be doing and to be pulled in so many directions. We're drawn to commit our energy and interests in ways that are unsustainable and eventually become disingenuous.
As my health has declined in the last several months I've become less able to keep the same commitments I've had in the past. Those commitments have become less and less sustainable I've not had any sort of replacement or acceptance of my new shift in/ability. I am afraid continuing like this will lead to a breakdown in my integrity.
I have never lived anyplace else. So maybe this is a problem everywhere, for every city. But I'm willing to strike out and see if there is a city out there that might just be a little better for beginners like me.
Seattle I want to be with you, but you ask so much from me and you don't give back enough for me to stay healthy and honest to the person I aspire to be. So I've decided to leave.
I'm leaving with less money, less hope, and less health than I came to you with. I am leaving to see if I can find or create that which you could not give me.
I'm leaving in September. I might come back in November, or February, or April. I know you hate when plans aren't concrete, I do too, but I can't say for sure when I'll be back.
Because I might not come back.
And yes, Seattle, it's true that there are parts of you I can never leave. I've embedded my identity in your most precious residents; sunk my love poems into your salty pockets; mixed my saliva with the sweat of your distant ocean neck. My bike and I have sliced through your avenues churning, yearning, and howling out 80's power ballads.
Oh the glorious moments we shared! Like the first morning of this year, when I was wildly hungover you convinced me to climb out to you. You snagged my vision on your distance, on the crisp of your wide cyan embrace. The cold comfort of a mountain range steady behind each of my shoulders pushed me and my bicycle forward. In that open moment, emptied of breath, it was easy to love the pressure of you and to forget how you constrict me, my gorgeous winding salt water lover.
I love you so much. And I'll send you so many post cards. Thank you for giving me what you did. I think we both wish that it had been enough.
<3
WRM
Thursday, July 18, 2013
How to not catcall
So, it's high summer in Seattle again. And same as happens every summer, Seattlites are crawling out in droves. Sunny sidewalks and fair-weather festivals are awash with fancifully dressed humans soaking up their much needed vitamin D. Among the bustle of ice cream trucks, casual conversations are sprouting like wildfire. Sun-drunk, strangers are talking to strangers.
The difference between a catcall and a friendly respectful approach is more than semantic (although paying attention to content doesn't hurt). The words used to approach someone are often less important than the intuitively communicated expectations behind them.
Example 1: Just yesterday a man passing me on the sidewalk said “I'm sorry if I'm bothering you but you are a very beautiful woman.” While it might sounds like it was the “I'm sorry if I'm bothering you” that made his approach unthreatening (I've had harassers fake apologize for bothering me very often), my ease at his approach had more to do with his posture and tone of voice. He shrank his body down some, pulled his arms back and shoulders up, and maintained as wide a distance between us as the sidewalk would allow. His voice, while not a whisper, was at a volume only I could hear. Because of these and other more subtle factors of gesture and expression it became clear to me that he expected no reaction or engagement from me.
The message I got from his approach went something like this in my head: “If you have the want/energy to listen to me I'd like to share my attention/words/presence with you.”
And I actually did have some energy (but not a lot of time) to share with him. I told him I liked his t-shirt and we both continued walking in our respective directions.
Example 2: Just days before on the very same street as the previous example another man passing me on the sidewalk approached me with very similar content: “Hey, you look real nice.” But the difference between his tone and posture and those used by the man in the previous example spoke volumes. His voice was loud and his tone what I assumed to be suggestive. He looked directly at my eyes all the while I was in his visual range (hoping to force eye contact). As I passed he also leaned close and thrust his hand into my path (I assume for a handshake).
I walked around his hand and did not respond to his comment, gesture, or attempt at eye contact. As I walked on he shouted after me “What, you can't say hello!?”
The message I got from his approach: “I want your attention. Gimme. You're a jerk if you don't.”
The person in this example felt expectant and I assume even entitled to my attention based on what he shouted after me. He resented me for rejecting his approach, further confirming my read of his body language, expression, and his volume and tone of voice. And for a the few moments we continued to share the block I felt grateful to be outdoors and heading in the opposite direction of this person (folks who consider/attempt approaching strangers in captive environments like elevators or buses TAKE NOTE! The thing I felt grateful for was that I could physically get away from this person if he decided to continue seeking my attention).
On some level the approacher in the second example was gaming me for me attention. And I don't play power games with people I don't know.
The crucial difference between these two approaches is that the first approacher, clearly expressed his concern for where my boundaries and potential to interact with him might be through his body language and voice. He approached me with no expressed expectation that he would receive any attention or recognition in return for his offering of attention.
All of this is subtle and nonverbal, but it is not out of bounds for anyone who has practice using social cues to communicate with other humans.
If you're like me you're probably thinking “Okay I see how those two approaches are different but how do I DO that respectful approach thing?”
Much as I'd love to offer an actionable list, I have no specific advice about what words or gestures to use. Every person comes with their own history of experiences and every situation comes with it's own unique context.
In her comic strip Girls With Slingshots Danielle Corsetto offers a pretty solid starting point:
But I'd like to flesh out the why and how of this strategy a little bit more.
As I've explored in previous writings, nobody is entitled to the listening of another person. While I believe this to be personally true (nobody is entitled to my listening) there are many ways we social animals feel pressured or obligated to give others our listening and attention. Human beings compulsions to listen to one another can be an incredibly useful and powerful force. It's how we build, trust, relationships, and collaborative communities. But it is also a force that catcallers, trolls, & hecklers know well and love to exploit by relying on the feeling of obligation to listen/respond to those they approach.
Wanna know how to avoid triggering any feelings of obligation surrounding listening a stranger might have before you approach?
First check your wants. What do you want from this person? Attention? Attraction? Makeouts? To trade outfits? Whatever it is that's cool. Now, hear this: They don't owe you any of that. Recognize those wants. They are a legit part of who you are. File them away as potential points of interaction for later, if and only if this approach gives rise to future interactions wherein this person might want to know you and your wants better.
And finally when you approach a stranger for conversation, approach that interaction with no other expectation than to offer that other person your attention and presence.
Sounds simple right?
But in my experience this approach is scarier and more vulnerable than using any line, joke, or any other shitty social norms for getting attention.
Offering your attention/presence openly and without expectation of reciprocity or recognition is brave and raw and it's exactly what I picture whenever someone talks about “putting yourself out there.”
So yeah, it's hard. But it gets smoother with practice and after a while you may even start to feel proud of being brave enough to “put yourself out there” regardless of whether those you're approaching decide to respond to or recognize your approach.
In the event of a less than ideal response or lack of response from someone you approach try to remember that a stranger's response or lack thereof to your approach probably has little to do with you, the content, or even style of your approach. Their experience and learned contexts (which dictates what they assume about their location, and you, and you words) are going to ring much louder to them than whatever you have to say and however you have to say it.
As awesome as summer is, not every encounter with a stranger is sunny. Sometimes it's downright unpleasant. Because catcalls.
There's many types of catcalls but the one thing they all share is their demand for the attention/response of another rather than laying ground for honest equitable conversation. Catcallers seek to illicit a reaction/response to justify the harasser's sense of importance. When people say “insecurity is a turn off” this is what they mean. Using the attentions/reactions of others to justify your own importance is creepy and disrespectful. Don't do it!
The difference between a catcall and a friendly respectful approach is more than semantic (although paying attention to content doesn't hurt). The words used to approach someone are often less important than the intuitively communicated expectations behind them.
Example 1: Just yesterday a man passing me on the sidewalk said “I'm sorry if I'm bothering you but you are a very beautiful woman.” While it might sounds like it was the “I'm sorry if I'm bothering you” that made his approach unthreatening (I've had harassers fake apologize for bothering me very often), my ease at his approach had more to do with his posture and tone of voice. He shrank his body down some, pulled his arms back and shoulders up, and maintained as wide a distance between us as the sidewalk would allow. His voice, while not a whisper, was at a volume only I could hear. Because of these and other more subtle factors of gesture and expression it became clear to me that he expected no reaction or engagement from me.
The message I got from his approach went something like this in my head: “If you have the want/energy to listen to me I'd like to share my attention/words/presence with you.”
And I actually did have some energy (but not a lot of time) to share with him. I told him I liked his t-shirt and we both continued walking in our respective directions.
Example 2: Just days before on the very same street as the previous example another man passing me on the sidewalk approached me with very similar content: “Hey, you look real nice.” But the difference between his tone and posture and those used by the man in the previous example spoke volumes. His voice was loud and his tone what I assumed to be suggestive. He looked directly at my eyes all the while I was in his visual range (hoping to force eye contact). As I passed he also leaned close and thrust his hand into my path (I assume for a handshake).
I walked around his hand and did not respond to his comment, gesture, or attempt at eye contact. As I walked on he shouted after me “What, you can't say hello!?”
The message I got from his approach: “I want your attention. Gimme. You're a jerk if you don't.”
The person in this example felt expectant and I assume even entitled to my attention based on what he shouted after me. He resented me for rejecting his approach, further confirming my read of his body language, expression, and his volume and tone of voice. And for a the few moments we continued to share the block I felt grateful to be outdoors and heading in the opposite direction of this person (folks who consider/attempt approaching strangers in captive environments like elevators or buses TAKE NOTE! The thing I felt grateful for was that I could physically get away from this person if he decided to continue seeking my attention).
On some level the approacher in the second example was gaming me for me attention. And I don't play power games with people I don't know.
The crucial difference between these two approaches is that the first approacher, clearly expressed his concern for where my boundaries and potential to interact with him might be through his body language and voice. He approached me with no expressed expectation that he would receive any attention or recognition in return for his offering of attention.
All of this is subtle and nonverbal, but it is not out of bounds for anyone who has practice using social cues to communicate with other humans.
If you're like me you're probably thinking “Okay I see how those two approaches are different but how do I DO that respectful approach thing?”
Much as I'd love to offer an actionable list, I have no specific advice about what words or gestures to use. Every person comes with their own history of experiences and every situation comes with it's own unique context.
In her comic strip Girls With Slingshots Danielle Corsetto offers a pretty solid starting point:
But I'd like to flesh out the why and how of this strategy a little bit more.
As I've explored in previous writings, nobody is entitled to the listening of another person. While I believe this to be personally true (nobody is entitled to my listening) there are many ways we social animals feel pressured or obligated to give others our listening and attention. Human beings compulsions to listen to one another can be an incredibly useful and powerful force. It's how we build, trust, relationships, and collaborative communities. But it is also a force that catcallers, trolls, & hecklers know well and love to exploit by relying on the feeling of obligation to listen/respond to those they approach.
Wanna know how to avoid triggering any feelings of obligation surrounding listening a stranger might have before you approach?
First check your wants. What do you want from this person? Attention? Attraction? Makeouts? To trade outfits? Whatever it is that's cool. Now, hear this: They don't owe you any of that. Recognize those wants. They are a legit part of who you are. File them away as potential points of interaction for later, if and only if this approach gives rise to future interactions wherein this person might want to know you and your wants better.
And finally when you approach a stranger for conversation, approach that interaction with no other expectation than to offer that other person your attention and presence.
Sounds simple right?
But in my experience this approach is scarier and more vulnerable than using any line, joke, or any other shitty social norms for getting attention.
Offering your attention/presence openly and without expectation of reciprocity or recognition is brave and raw and it's exactly what I picture whenever someone talks about “putting yourself out there.”
So yeah, it's hard. But it gets smoother with practice and after a while you may even start to feel proud of being brave enough to “put yourself out there” regardless of whether those you're approaching decide to respond to or recognize your approach.
In the event of a less than ideal response or lack of response from someone you approach try to remember that a stranger's response or lack thereof to your approach probably has little to do with you, the content, or even style of your approach. Their experience and learned contexts (which dictates what they assume about their location, and you, and you words) are going to ring much louder to them than whatever you have to say and however you have to say it.
It's okay to be confused about why you didn't get a response. But confusion is a normal part of social life and you have to accept that a stranger's experience is something you just can't know without them letting you in. A person who doesn't know you has absolutely no obligation to give you specific feedback on what about your approach (content, style, context) didn't appeal to them. If you're concerned about or want to refine your skills for approaching strangers ask your friends or a counselor/therapist for feedback, not a stranger.
Many people choose to ignore all strangers who approach them because of repeated instances of harassment. Someone not responding to a stranger's approach does not always mean they assume said stranger is going to harass them.
Example 3: Last week I was worried, running late and without coffee to an early doctor's appointment I was mentally prepping myself for (I hate the going to the doctor). A man passed me and said “I really like your style.” Even though I was unthreatened by the words, body language, and tone of his approach I said nothing and continued on because I did not have energy to open a conversation or even to thank him for the compliment I richly enjoyed.
Final notes and a privilege check: There are many complicated often prejudicial factors that lead folks to engage or decide not to engage with strangers. I recognize these complications but chose not to address them in this piece. If you wanna discuss that with me the comments are a great place! The examples I cite above are by no means completely representative of my interactions with strangers. While it's certainly not the only thing affecting my interactions, I recognize that in my interactions (with strangers or not) I receive some amount of privilege based on how my appearance matches that of current beauty standards. Also I live in a pretty awesome and friendly neighborhood!
Example 3: Last week I was worried, running late and without coffee to an early doctor's appointment I was mentally prepping myself for (I hate the going to the doctor). A man passed me and said “I really like your style.” Even though I was unthreatened by the words, body language, and tone of his approach I said nothing and continued on because I did not have energy to open a conversation or even to thank him for the compliment I richly enjoyed.
Final notes and a privilege check: There are many complicated often prejudicial factors that lead folks to engage or decide not to engage with strangers. I recognize these complications but chose not to address them in this piece. If you wanna discuss that with me the comments are a great place! The examples I cite above are by no means completely representative of my interactions with strangers. While it's certainly not the only thing affecting my interactions, I recognize that in my interactions (with strangers or not) I receive some amount of privilege based on how my appearance matches that of current beauty standards. Also I live in a pretty awesome and friendly neighborhood!
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