An alternate approach to dealing with racism in the form of a rant

Although I've been trying not to be pulled in, some of the--ahem--let's say, conversations about the Confederate flag and its related language, the South, and naming rights have pulled me in. There are just too many personal ties. People I used to know keep slopping sugar about how much they just love all their friends of every color, but they'll "just have to agree to disagree." There's all this talk about how none of this was a problem for years and years and there's only been unity. That is a completely illogical conclusion unless you've refused to listen for the last several decades. And I know that's not true for these people 'cause they've heard ME explaining things to them.

People need something to cling to, so, okay. Maybe people need to interpret the Confederacy "heritage" or whatever (of course, I'm a lifelong Southerner, too, but whatevs).

But here's what I don't get: Why the dismissal of people who say that these things are painful? Do they not believe it? Or do they just not care? "Suck it, people of color!"

And can they find some way in which their Christian ethics (plastered all over FB pages and such) jibe with their position?

Most of all, what I don't get is that you call me your friend. You say you care about me. You say you love me with the love of Christ. It's one thing to say that you think "outside agitators" are "stirring things up" but it's a whole other thing to say that a request for change is "stupid" and "oversensitive". But let's say that's true. I'm just hyperemotional (me, your friend, not the "outsiders")--how much does it cost you to just give a little on this? Does it cost less than hurting your friend? who you love?

I realize that I've switched to second person here. That's how crazy this making me. So I've decided that neither logic nor pathos is going to work. I give up. Have your racist idols. They mean more to you than relationships and compassion and "love". I give up. I know you're going to argue that they're not racist and neither are you. That's not logical, but enjoy it anyway. I tried to remember that my silence wouldn't protect me, but losing my righteous mind and having a stroke is more than I'm willing to give you. Never-freaking-mind.  That is my official position.

So, instead, I'm reading Yo Is This Racist?  It's much better than working my way into a stroke.

Girls, girls, girls

So, I stumbled upon the Billboard Awards pre-show and tried to watch. I could only get through a few short minutes, though, because I had all this commentary and no place to put it. It was practically making me itch. What else is there to do in these circumstances except to blog?

The host made much of Beyonce and Taylor Swift’s open use of the the F word. Just as I was trying to remember the few lyrics I might know from “Drunk in Love” the word “feminist” splashed across the screen. I’ve tried to put aside my academic elitism and be more open to the idea that Beyonce is a feminist star. Seriously, I just can’t get there. There’s so little nuance. The idea that “girls run the world” might be nice, but it’s not a reality. I mean, girls don’t even run this country. Then, Swift says that feminism is only now mainstream and she believes that it will continue to have an impact for the next few decades. I’m hoping that she wasn’t actually saying what I think she was saying because it sounded like she was saying that feminism was some tiny, fringe movement until this moment—you know, when Taylor Swift arrived on Earth. And what’s going to happen after feminism has its moment? When its impact ends after “the next few decades” will the country/world go back to its June Cleaver aspirations? I’m not sure what she meant exactly, but again, it seems short-sighted. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t discount the ways in which the likes of Beyonce and Swift intersect with third wave feminism. But I also wouldn’t put either of them at the center of the movement simply because they sing songs about breaking up with their boyfriends.

Nicki Minaj then says that she doesn’t believe women have to be anyone’s girlfriend, and the host points out that Minaj isn’t afraid to be overtly sexual. I can’t begin to unpack the complicated ways in which Minaj both undermines and bolsters feminism’s concept of gender equality. But I do know that her consciously constructed public persona makes me uncomfortable. In part, this is because I’m not sure that such overwhelmingly sexualized rhetoric emerges from a desire to express oneself; I suspect that it is just another response to the same male-centered ideas that generate lots of other ideas about who women should be.

Then, there is Meghan Trainor and her declaration that she’s bringing booty back. The host notes her refusal to be fat shamed. Ok, yeah. But every single time I hear that line I think, “Hello, Miss! Some of us never lost it!” Many women of color have always known that there’s value and beauty in a curvy hips and round bottoms and thick thighs. Why would Trainor, in particular, be the chosen one to bring it back? I am totally giving her the side-eye.

I think perhaps all of my internal dialogue is a sign that I'm old . . . . 

Late to the game

So, I guess everyone else on the planet already had this realization, but I was watching a Grey's Anatomy rerun after watching a DVR-ed Scandal episode and it just dawned on me that Ellis Grey/Sally Langston was paired with Thatcher Grey/Cyrus Been in both shows.

I get all excited about these kinds of TV connections. Of course, I didn't Google it, though, so there's a chance I'm totally making this up . . . .

Spring Reading?

The semester is coming to a close soon (yeah!) and in a conversation with a friend, I realized how little I've been reading for pleasure lately. I'm thinking that I should be reading something I really love as I gear up to read lots and lots of what may be very questionable student writing. Books have been such an integral part of my life for as long as I can remember; it feels weird to realize that this has been so reduced. It makes me kind of sad. I think that one of the reasons I'm bad with directions is that I was always reading in the car. Other children were watching the scenery go by or looking for punch buggies (it was the 80s and pre-Kindle/gaming systems). In the last year or so, I've started books that I didn't finish--that never used to happen. For sure, I don't have time to waste on books that I don't actually want to follow to the end. Still, I used to get lost. I miss that.

So, I want a book that will excite me. I've read two or three that I liked enough to teach. I guess it hasn't been that long since I've fallen in love with words on a page. Come to think of it, there's been a couple of non-fiction ones, too.  I'm hoping that another book will make me want to stay up nights. Tell me: What should I read?

Link Love--You want to read this

I can't exactly find the words I want to say about this, but I'm moved by some of the language in it. Love or unlove. Seeing all children as whole people. I want to govern myself by this principle (I'm pretty sure I don't too much of the time, but still . . .) Anyway I thought I'd share:

http://alisonpiepmeier.blogspot.com/2015/03/letter-i-wrote-to-principal.html#comment-form

RBOC--start of the year, start of the term

• My afternoon class is always turned up to 10. It's a rare semester when that class is sedate or quiet. Last semester, a group of them yelled my name and commented on my outfit each day when I came into the room. This term, they mostly stared at me like they were bored. Second week of class and I've already had to give the evil eye/you're pissing me off look to a student taking out her phone. Questions hang in the air like a bad smell. I may have to start eating chocolate during class before it's over with.
• I've exhausted most of the television series I wanted to watch on Netflix. That makes me sad. Binge-watching Netflix has become quite dear to me. I started Twin Peaks, since I didn't watch it originally. I don't know if it's worth continuing. We'll see.
• The department somehow ended up with several first year students who don't have a composition course to enroll in. All of the sections are full, so new ones have to be created. But a number of students came begging to be overloaded into my sections. They balked at the idea of finding a class taught by a different instructor. A couple said that the material I chose for my classes was right up their ally. That made me feel really good, especially since I often feel like the work I do in the classroom means nothing to anyone but me. Of course, I still sent them out of my office to find another class.
• The pastor of the church we attend asked the membership to fast this month. Skipping meals gives headaches, so I was going to fast from sugar. Then I made a cup of hot tea and the honey was coming out too slowly. So I used sugar. Then I decided to fast from candy only. That's probably not really what the pastor had in mind, and it's probably rather pathetic, but it's the best I can do. And since there people keep leaving mini-chocolate candies on the lobby desk, it's not a small thing to resist.

Things to Do in 2015

Here's the plan:

1. Consciously and intentionally spend time alone doing non-mommy things. Away from my house.
2. Find a way to keep my children out of my bedroom much more often.
3. See The Diva more frequently.
4. Read more books that have nothing to do with class (although I happily have a chance in the coming semester to teach two books that I loved reading for pleasure)--I vaguely recall that I used to do this all the time. What happened to that?
5. Find truly yummy ice cream that I can eat now that I've discovered a disturbingly sad link between dairy and migraines. I wonder if I can launch a letter-writing campaign to Ben and Jerry. That would be my dream!
6. Laugh more. Seriously.
7. Make some proactive decisions about my career instead of waiting for the ax to fall on my professional head.
8. Cross some more items off my life list.
9. Enjoy being 40. Try to be fabulous.
10. Refrain from completely ignoring my blog. Or decide to end it. One or the other.

Please be kind 2015. The sea is so big, and my boat is so small. But, our family (my extended family--not me!) welcomed a new baby on the last day before the new year. I'll take that as a sign, ok?