Indefinite Break

I've had some time to think over the weekend, and I've realized I am tired. I just don't have the time, energy, or words to continue blogging right now. So, I'm going to take a break, and I'm not sure for how long or even if I'll come back to this blog. We'll see what the future holds...For now, thank you for being part of this community and be well.

Turkey Break

Image by denis collette via Flickr

This officially marks the beginning of my Thanksgiving blog break.
Have a good one.

Compartmentalizing

I'm beginning to see how well working, separated/divorced moms compartmentalize their lives. Or our lives, rather. No one could possibly feel everything we feel all the time and still get done all we need to get done. It just couldn't happen.

Yesterday, I was feeling gloomy all day. I couldn't shake the weepiness that hit me in yoga class this week, and I wanted to do nothing but curl up and disappear for a while. But I had to work last night, and before my event I had to pick up the little one and hand her off to a babysitter. Little did I know when I arrived at her school, I'd be greeted by her crying, bruised, and bleeding from a gash above her eye (she fell and hit it on a chair). Instantly, my gloominess evaporated as I kicked into mom mode and weighed whether she needed a trip to the Emergency Room (which she did not, thankfully), more ice, or just some snuggles. And after we had arrived home from school and I had her quietly resting, I finally stopped for a minute. Shit, I thought. She could have really been hurt. And I have to leave her tonight. With a babysitter.

And then I swallowed those thoughts.
And I handed her off to our babysitter.
And I went to talk to a room full of parents at work about financial aid for college.

Because we do what we have to do, us moms. We stuff emotions that threaten to choke and incapacitate us back into their little boxes so we have the room and energy to do the things we have to do to take care of the people who depend on us - all of them. Instinctively, this is what we do -without choice or second thoughts or regret.

Those emotions, though? Just in case you thought differently, they never stay in their box. In the darkness of midnight or the quiet of dawn, they show up, ruthlessly ripping me from my sleep. And today I'm no more sure of what to do with their residue than I was yesterday. I don't want to talk about them or share them. I don't want to analyze them or "work" on them. I just want to find something or someone that makes me not feel them and hold onto that something or someone as tightly as I can. Just for a little while. Just until the compartment that echoes with loneliness and sadness fills up with something else.

Love Takes Many Forms

I bought a pack of these cards recently from the Syracuse Cultural Workers. I love this message.

To Marry or Not to Marry

For obvious reasons, I've been thinking a lot lately about marriage and what it means and what it doesn't mean. Gena Haskett at BlogHer has a great post today about the history of marriage, and she includes a few contemporary ideas, too. I think talking about marriage is important - especially in light of the anti-gay marriage propositions that have been passing around the country (Prop. 8, Amendment 2, Prop 102).

I suppose what I say here should be taken with a grain of salt considering the unraveling of my own marriage, but I'll say it anyway. I'm not sure I want to be married again. I'm not sure I even know what marriage is. I know what it was supposed to mean in ancient - and not so ancient - times, but in today's current society? Not so sure. I don't know if anyone does.

Certainly, there are legal benefits to marriage - benefits available in most states if the married couple consists of a man and a woman. See, this is part of the problem for me. Why should I buy into an institution that only allows a man and a woman to be part of it? It's discrimination. It defines gays and lesbians as "others", and it's wrong. Love is love regardless of the sexual orientation of those who feel it. The government has no right to determine how a couple defines their life together. And for it to give privileges to male/female couples that aren't available to same sex couples is as bad as racism, sexism, agism, etc...All the "isms" really come from the same place after all, don't they?

I don't have any answers except to suggest something that will seem rather radical to you, I'm sure. Abolish the state of marriage altogether. Either destroy the legal benefits to all partners, whose relationship is defined by the partners, or make them available to everyone. It just doesn't seem that difficult to me. Of course, I'm not a religion-crazed homophobe either, so maybe that explains my confusion.

I'm sure I'll have a new partner at some point in my life. I hope so anyway. But a husband? I just don't know. I'm not so naive that I'll say "never again", but I just can't imagine why I'd ever want to do that again. I don't understand what recognition it would bring that would ever matter more than the mutual recognition and commitment between my partner and me. Perhaps if I had realized that eight years ago, this would be a different post altogether...

A Few Wise Words

Written by Alice Walker here:

"We must learn actually not to have enemies, but only confused adversaries who are ourselves in disguise."

A Framework for Moving Forward

I cannot describe how elated I am that it is November 5th. That the billions (yes, billions) of dollars spent on this presidential election can now be directed elsewhere. That perhaps the media will now cover the real stories of everyday injustices because they matter, not just in the context of the Republican and Democrat candidates but in the context of humanity. I awoke this morning conflicted - certainly not immune to the excitement and hope and stirrings of change - but the weight I thought would be marginally lifted from my chest was not. So I went searching for solace in other folks' writing. And I found quite a lot of material that has helped me frame my myriad of emotions this morning. Here are some excerpts:

In an interview in the Daily Banter last month, Noam Chomsky's answer to a question on the economy and bail out proposal resonated with me. I've been struggling to name my discomfort with all of the democracy talk that continues to get thrown around in this election, and Chomsky's comment helps me understand that in many ways, we are a long way from a functioning democracy:

In a democracy, in a functioning democracy, what would be happening is that popular organizations, unions, political groupings, others would be developing their programs, putting them forth, insisting that their representatives implement those programs. And there are possible programs that might make a difference, but none of this is happening. And the reason this isn’t happening is because there is no functioning democracy. The role of the public is restricted to shouting ‘No’. The bill passed in the House because the alternative was quite dire, but it doesn’t mean it was a good proposal, or by any means the best proposal.

I also revisited an article written by Howard Zinn for the March, 2008 issue of The Progressive. I've been reading his text, The People's History of the United States (which is probably why I've felt so conflicted these past few months about politics), and I wanted to re-read his thoughts about the election madness. He says the following, and I've emphasized the last two paragraphs because to me, they are particularly meaningful:

This seizes the country every four years because we have all been brought up to believe that voting is crucial in determining our destiny, that the most important act a citizen can engage in is to go to the polls and choose one of the two mediocrities who have already been chosen for us. It is a multiple choice test so narrow, so specious, that no self-respecting teacher would give it to students.

And sad to say, the Presidential contest has mesmerized liberals and radicals alike. We are all vulnerable.

Is it possible to get together with friends these days and avoid the subject of the Presidential elections?

The very people who should know better, having criticized the hold of the media on the national mind, find themselves transfixed by the press, glued to the television set, as the candidates preen and smile and bring forth a shower of clichés with a solemnity appropriate for epic poetry.

Even in the so-called left periodicals, we must admit there is an exorbitant amount of attention given to minutely examining the major candidates. An occasional bone is thrown to the minor candidates, though everyone knows our marvelous democratic political system won't allow them in.

No, I'm not taking some ultra-left position that elections are totally insignificant, and that we should refuse to vote to preserve our moral purity. Yes, there are candidates who are somewhat better than others, and at certain times of national crisis (the Thirties, for instance, or right now) where even a slight difference between the two parties may be a matter of life and death.

I'm talking about a sense of proportion that gets lost in the election madness. Would I support one candidate against another? Yes, for two minutes-the amount of time it takes to pull the lever down in the voting booth.

But before and after those two minutes, our time, our energy, should be spent in educating, agitating, organizing our fellow citizens in the workplace, in the neighborhood, in the schools. Our objective should be to build, painstakingly, patiently but energetically, a movement that, when it reaches a certain critical mass, would shake whoever is in the White House, in Congress, into changing national policy on matters of war and social justice.

Last week, my friend Adele Nieves posted an interview on ZNet with Rosa Clemente, the Green Party Vice-Presidential candidate on the Cynthia McKinney ticket. In this interview, Clemente discusses her thoughts on third-parties and disillusioned voters who are still tied to the two-party system:

First, I don't consider it progressive if you blindly accept the Democratic Party. I'm personally not trying to persuade anybody. If you want to be a Republican or a Democrat, that's fine. I'm trying to get at the 49% who don't vote; the millions of African American and Latino young people who are not registered to vote. I'm trying to get to the young people who aren't caught up in the Obama hype. I'm trying to persuade working-class white people who are not caught up in the Republican hype, and have disengaged from the system. So I'm not trying to persuade somebody to vote differently.

As far as the "lesser of two evils," I think that says it right there. I don't understand why we have to have an evil, period. Both parties are corporate parties. In every policy that one puts forth, one might be less devastating, but eventually it will hurt you. That's what we've seen with Democrats and Republicans. I don't think my generation can afford the lesser of any evil at this point.

Certainly there are similar points echoing through all three of the quotes above. I agree with each in varying degrees of wholeheartedness, and because I do, I'm still left with wanting more. I need to know I can believe in and balance this criticism of our political discourse without succumbing to the cynicism that is beckoning me like a cool pool on a hot day. I need to know I, too, can hope. I can recognize the momentousness of this morning without sacrificing my ideals.

So I continued reading. And on Tim Wise's blog and Facebook (yes, how cool am I that Tim Wise is my Facebook friend?) page, was an essay - freshly written - that provided the clarity I was seeking. He says,

This election does indeed matter. No, it is not the same as victory against the forces of injustice, and yes, Obama is a heavily compromised candidate, and yes, we will have to work hard to hold him accountable. But it matters nonetheless that he, and not the bloodthirsty bomber McCain, or the Christo-fascist, Palin, managed to emerge victorious.

and this,

Those who say it doesn't matter weren't with me on the south side of Chicago this past week, surrounded by a collection of amazing community organizers who go out and do the hard work every day of trying to help create a way out of no way for the marginalized. All of them know that an election is but a part of the solution, a tactic really, in a larger struggle of which they are a daily part; and none of them are so naive as to think that their jobs are now to become a cakewalk because of the election of Barack Obama. But all of them were looking forward to this moment. They haven't the luxury of believing in the quixotic campaigns of Dennis Kucinich, or waiting around for the Green Party to get its act together and become something other than a pathetic caricature, symbolized by the utterly irrelevant and increasingly narcissistic presence of Ralph Nader on the electoral scene. And while Cynthia McKinney remains a pivotal figure in the struggle, the party to which she was tethered this year shows no more ability to sustain movement activity than it was eight years ago, and most everyone working in oppressed communities in this nation knows it.

Wise goes on to address the specifics of what the election meant: who/what "we" defeated by electing Barack Obama and how the result was a victory. And he ends with the following in a way that shows me what we have to do now. And that we can do it - even if we know the inequities on which this country was founded. Even if we understand the two-party system was created to maintain privilege among the privileged and voted for one of them anyway. Even if we see the flaws in the system. In fact, I think we have an even greater responsibility because we know this.

And so it is back to work. Oh yes, we can savor the moment for a while, for a few days, perhaps a week. But well before inauguration day we will need to be back on the job, in the community, in the streets, where democracy is made, demanding equity and justice in places where it hasn't been seen in decades, if ever. Because for all the talk of hope and change, there is nothing--absolutely, positively nothing--about real change that is inevitable. And hope, absent real pressure and forward motion to actualize one's dreams, is sterile and even dangerous. Hope, absent commitment is the enemy of change, capable of translating to a giving away of one's agency, to a relinquishing of the need to do more than just show up every few years and push a button or pull a lever.

This means hooking up now with the grass roots organizations in the communities where we live, prioritizing their struggles, joining and serving with their constituents, following leaders grounded in the community who are accountable not to Barack Obama, but the people who helped elect him. Let Obama follow, while the people lead, in other words.

For we who are white it means going back into our white spaces and challenging our brothers and sisters, parents, neighbors, colleagues and friends--and ourselves--on the racial biases that still too often permeate their and our lives, and making sure they know that the success of one man of color does not equate to the eradication of systemic racial inequity.

"Let Obama follow, while the people lead." Beautiful words, no? And in this framework, I will relax and enjoy the day after. I can think of my beautiful, smart, promising niece and nephews and breathe easier knowing they will grow up with a President who looks like them. They may not understand the struggle it took to get him there (and that is both a blessing and a curse), but they will see themselves positively in the mirror of history. And maybe in this framework, I'll finally allow myself to shed that tear that has been threatening since I watched Obama's speech last night and after saw the Obama and Biden families come out on that stage together - united and overcome with the sheer amazement of their feat. When I saw that powerful and brilliant pair of women who will be in the White House come January. When I looked at the faces of so many young people in the crowd and thought, maybe - maybe there is hope we can change.