Cry me a river...

I said in my last post that I would explain why/how I went from writing a post about how I understand that it's hard to speak out about -isms to actually speaking out about one.

One thing that I know about myself is that annoyed is a feeling I feel fairly regularly. We could try to analyze the reasons behind this fact, but for now let's just say that lots of different things annoy me.

One thing that really annoys me is when white people tell me stories about how they have recently witnessed something racist happen. Okay, just telling me the story isn't annoying. Telling the story in a "Can you believe that ignoramous said that ?!?" way followed up with the revelation that the white person telling me the story just sat there and didn't say anything. Said white person might classify their reaction as stunned silence.

I want to turn to this person and say, " White person, I can believe that you heard so-and-so say that. You know why?

Because so-and-so has probably gone through his/her whole life saying these racist/racish things, and has had these comments met with laughter or silence. So and so doesn't even know you well enough to know you'd be offended; so obviously this kind of stuff comes out of so-and-so's mouth pretty easily. And everytime so-and-so says one of these comments and isn't called out on it, so-and-so gets the message reinforced that saying those things is ok. "

When I hear a white person tell a story like this, there are two things that bum me out. The first one is hearing the story. It's always sad to be reminded of the fact that racism still exists. The second one is knowing that there was a person who knew that something wrong was happening, but didn't speak up. A person who (since they are not black,) can't have their comments immediately dismissed as being oversensitive/having a chip on his/her shoulder/etc.

So, knowing how much stories like this irritate me when they involve people of color, I knew I couldn't in good conscience come to my blog and write about how I had the opportunity to talk to someone about homophobic remarks and didn't take it.

Now, I am not saying that you must speak out each and every time you hear someone say something disrespectful/hateful/ignorant about a member of some marginalized group. I don't choose to take the time/energy to do that and I can see why you wouldn't either. But hey if you want to...knock yourself out.

But what I don't want is for you to come and talk to me about it, oblivious to the very important role you played in the exchange. If you want to talk to me about it like, "I heard this, and I know I should have said something--but I didn't. What can I do differently next time something like this happens?" I can work with that. Or if you want to just keep your story to yourself as you struggle internally with why you didn't do something--I can work with that too.


Maybe now you're thinking, "myblackfriend, you're not being very compassionate/understanding right now. You weren't this mean to Ken --Why are you being so hard on me? I'm one of the good ones!?!!

I just want to interject and say that I am cracking myself up over here.

It's true...if you are a white person and taking the time to read this blog, you probably have a level of race awareness that most white people in the United States do not have. But I think that it is important to realize that you probably have just enough information to be dangerous--remember John Mayer? It is precisely because you are more up on things than the average white person that I am being less forgiving.

It's like gymnastics: When you are a little two or three-year-old and you take a gymnastics class, everyone cheers and applauds for every little move that you do.

Somersault? Whoo hoo!!
Barely marginal cartwheel? Here's your trophy!

That's kind of what Ken is like. Ken is still learning the "don't post slurs on the internet" lesson of awareness. So any movement past that is to be celebrated.

But you...you're advanced. You're like "Hey I like gymnastics, and I think I'm pretty good at it--I'm going to keep taking lessons." So you hire me, your mean old Romanian coach. And it seems like all I do is criticize you. You even break your ankle twice and have to miss your Prom!

You start to wonder, "Is this really worth it?" But when you start boo-hooing to me about it I say, "You don't like it? Get out of my gym!"

That's just my way of figuring out how badly you want it. I don't really want you to go, because I know you've got potential. But if you don't want to work-- Hey, I'm not going to beg you to stay.

That's pretty much what it's like with this blog. This is my space to say what I think/feel. If it is too much for you, then don't read it. If I start censoring myself here...only bad things will happen. Work around these issues is hard; and it is probably going to be hard for as long as you and I are alive. It is only the people who are willing to do the hard work, to ask themselves the tough questions, and to make the tough decisions that are going be the ones moving us towards positive change. Everyone else will just be sitting on the sidelines.

Comments? Leave them below.

The rest of the story...

Awhile back, I wrote about Tyler Clementi's suicide and how it (and the suicides of countless other teens,) spurred me to recommit myself to speaking out about homophobia and also continue to examine my own heterosexist thoughts and feelings.

Well, wouldn't you know it, just a few days after I wrote that post I had the opportunity to put my proverbial money where my proverbial mouth was. Here's how it all went down...

I was on Facebook and I noticed that one of my friends (a member of my extended family actually,) was making comments every so often about gay people that seemed to be intended as jokes, but were very liberal in their use of gay slurs. It's interesting because even with the Public Service Announcements that are around these days, it would seem that using derogatory language around being gay is still pretty prevalent among young people.

So I'm reading my news feed, seeing these comments and thinking to myself, "Ok, I need to say something about this because I consider myself a person who cares about these issues. And if I am a person that truly cares, I have to show it through my actions."

Not long after having those thoughts, these strong feelings of fear and anxiety came over me. "What if Ken (that's my fake name for my relative,) gets really angry? What if he defriends me? What if he talks to some of our other relatives, and it turns into this big thing?"

What's funny about this is that Ken is not someone that I talk to often and see even less frequently; so my concern about what he would think didn't make a whole lot of sense. But as I type that last sentence, I understand that my fear actually does make a lot of sense. Because I (like most other people,) have a basic need to feel liked and accepted by others. Especially members of my own family. And I was considering risking that like and acceptance to speak out about something that many would argue doesn't directly affect me.

So, after I decided I needed to say something, I also just happened to decide that I needed to clean my house. So I did some vacuuming. Then I did some organizing of my books and papers. Then I did some straightening of my couch cushions. Next thing you know it was almost 5 o'clock, and time for me to go pick my husband up from work. As I was driving to pick him up, I thought to myself, "Making this decision to speak to Ken is really hard. Maybe I won't say anything. Then I can make a blog post about how hard it is, and how my difficulty helps me understand why my white friends don't speak out about racism."

[Spoiler alert: Luckily, that is not what this blog post is going to be about, and I will explain why later.]

Eventually, I decided to stop my procrastinating, and started to take some steps that were going to help me say what I needed to say to Ken.

I went for help to the same place that I go to find answers to many of life's burning questions: Google. Google is actually my homepage, so I went there and typed in: How to respond to homophobic comments or something like that.

I came across a British site that said if you hear a comment like this, you should turn to the person say "Well, isn't that a disgusting comment?" and turn away.

Um, yeah...no.

I think reacting in that way would primarily serve to make the person making the comment feel shamed, which would most likely lead to anger and defensiveness. That was not the reaction that I was going for.

After, clicking on a couple more links, I realized that I would pretty much be on my own when it came to crafting a response to Ken. This is what I came up with:

Yo Ken-

I wanted to write you about some stuff that I've seen recently on your wall. I've debated writing this message for a couple of days, but finally decided that it was better to say something than to not.

I think that the gay related comments that I've been reading recently are not very cool. I know that you and your friends are probably just joking around, but anti gay comments, lead to anti gay feelings, which lead to anti gay behavior. Maybe not by you, but I'm sure you've got some young impressionable people among your FB friends.

Besides, you are a funny guy, and I know that you can find other ways to show that fact that don't include putting other people down.

So, that's it. I hope that I can still maintain my favorite [insert familial relationship here] status. If you want to talk more about this--you know where to find me.


myblackfriendsays.com

Change Ken to his name and myblackfriendsays.com to my name and you've got the actual message unedited. There are a couple of things that I think are important to point out about what I wrote.

1) I tried to make the message as brief as possible. I didn't want any extra words, because I felt like the more extraneous words the greater likelihood the message I was trying to convey would get lost.

2) I tried to speak his language. He's young and hip, so I tapped into my young and hip side by using totally up-to-the-minute slang like, yo and cool. :p

It's important to note that I wasn't being inauthentic, I use those words even when I'm not talking to teenagers. The point is that since he's a young guy, I used a more casual tone than I would have if I'd been talking to my Grandma.

3) I started by telling him that I debated even writing him about it. The hope is that by expressing my hesitation, I am making myself a little vulnerable to him, which might make him feel less defensive.

4) I made the point clear that words can lead to actions, which is why something as minor as a status update is important.

5) I didn't claim to know what his intentions were, or make any assumptions about what him using that kind of language meant about him as a human being. I feel strongly that if I am trying to influence others to be more compassionate, the best way to do that is to be compassionate myself.

I've gone back and forth about whether or not I should tell you all about what happened next. I've decided that I shouldn't and I've got a pretty good reason.

I know, I know, some of you are now thinking, "Oh, it was a complete disaster." I will say that it wasn't. I will also say I was satisfied with the outcome.

But the reason I don't want to share the details is because if you go back to the first paragraph, what I am committing to doing is not changing the behavior of others. Since I don't have superpowers, I don't have the ability to control what other people do. What I can control is my own behavior. I can decide, "I'm gonna say something. And I'm gonna say it in the way that I think gets my point across most effectively."

I interviewed a guy once who was applying for a fundraising position who said, "It's not my job to raise money, it's my job to ask for money. And as long as I'm asking for money in the best possible way, I am doing my job." Love that answer.

When we confront people about -ism's--we can't control how they respond. All we can control is how we present what we have to say, and how we respond to whatever reaction they might have. Of course, we're doing it in the hopes that it will change behavior, but if that becomes the focus. it becomes really easy to stay in this place of doing nothing. We can psych ourselves out before we even take action by saying, " Oh, that is not going to work. She's not going to change her mind."

There's some other saying (I can't remember the exact wording,) about how if you don't try, you are 100% guaranteed to fail. My goal is to attempt to throw a wrench into the workings of the status quo. To be true to myself by refusing to remain silent. To say to people, "Everyone does not think like you do. Here's another way to look at this." I hope by sharing my message to Ken, I might be able to help you when you want to say something to someone but are afraid; or feel like you just don't know how.

I could talk about an analogy involving farming and therapy, but I think I've shared enough sayings and stories for today. If you have any thoughts, comments, questions--feel free to leave them. And if you'd like to share what superpower you'd choose to have (I think I'd go with invisibility,)...feel free to leave that too.

wtf?

A week ago on my twitter page I asked, when is someone going to publish the seminal work that answers the question: is the internet bringing us together, or pushing us apart?

My tweet was spurred by learning about the Rutgers student Tyler Clementi, who committed suicide after his roommate allegedly broadcast Tyler's tryst with another guy over the internet. Like millions of other people, I felt a sense of shock and sadness when I learned about this incident. Tyler was a talented young violinist, and ended his life by jumping off of the George Washington bridge. He also left his suicide note on Facebook.

There are many things that I want to say/questions I want to ask about this situation. I have hesitated in writing this post, because of my fear that I will say the wrong thing. Or that I will offend people that have a more nuanced understanding of the events than I do. But I know that my intentions are pure/good, and hopefully that will count for something.

First, I think the fact that both Tyler's roommate and the woman who was arrested with him are both people of color is significant. It's significant because it helps illuminate the idea that the vast majority of us have some identities that align with the dominant culture. So even if you are brown, if you are heterosexual-- that gives you a set of privileges that a white gay person would not have.

Second, Tyler's roommate seems like a straight up a-hole. I don't know that the internet has a whole lot to do with it. If i-chat didn't exist, he strikes me as the type of guy that would be hiding a video camera in the closet, and then showing the VHS tape to all his friends.

Third, Tyler's roommate tweeted, Roommate asked for the room till midnight. I went into Molly's room and turned on my webcam. I saw him making out with a dude. Yay.'

I added the emphasis on the last word, because to me it has a lot of significance. Obviously, he is being sarcastic--he's not really happy about it. But there is a reason that he said yay instead of "sick!" or "gross!" both of which I think are more in line with what he was actually thinking.

He said 'yay' because as a young, little bit of college educated person, he knew that using one of those other words would have made him seem like a homophobe. And he knows enough to know that being a overt homophobe (like being an overt racist,) is not something that is looked upon kindly, especially in college (most colleges anyway.)

So what does he do? He makes his comments more subtle, feels out his audience, avoids saying anything obviously hateful. This is important because it illustrates how a lot of people respond to doing work around diversity and multiculturalism. They learn that some things are not said in polite company, and so they avoid saying them in polite company. But the idea that their hearts and minds are truly changed...I think we know the answer to that.

Fourth, I really wish that Tyler hadn't of killed himself. Refer to my second point, his roommate is an a-hole. Given that fact, an a-hole taping you is not something you want to kill yourself over. He's the one with the problem, not you.

But then that gets me thinking: What caused Tyler to do this? I don't like what I am hearing that places the blame on Tyler's roommate. It is extremely dangerous to put the blame for one person's suicide on another person. What the roommate did was outrageous, and he certainly deserves to be punished. But casting him as the evil one and trying to find a way to throw him in jail for the rest of his life is not the answer.

Our society as a whole has to take some responsibility for this tragic event taking place. When a seemingly healthy, well-adjusted person gets to the point that they are in such deep despair that they throw themselves off a bridge???

Many "straight allies" are pointing the finger at conservative clergy, and just conservative people in general. I agree that any pastor who takes the time to write a sermon calling gay people unnatural; or a conservative voter who does his or her part to deny gay Americans equal rights--they're not helping.

But I said society as a whole, remember?

What about you?
What about me?

My husband and I have beautiful baby son. Already, people make comments about how he is going to be popular with the ladies when he is older. I think to myself, "How do you know he is going to like girls?" But most of the time I don't say anything, because I don't want to seem...weird.

Or when we meet someone new for the first time and say, "Do you have a _________," filling in the blank with the romantic term of opposite sex of the person we're talking to. Now, we'd be fine with the person saying "Actually, I have a _______ (insert same sex term here)" But...why do we even make the assumption?

Or what about when we still think The Hangover was a hilarious movie, even though the characters frequently used homophobic slurs?

Or when someone we know and like (or love) says something intolerant or bigoted, and we don't speak up? Several people were following those tweets about Tyler--what did they do when they read them?

These things are all part of the problem. All these examples promote the message, "Being gay is not ideal, and treating it as something 'less than' is acceptable to me."

Point the finger at conservatives all you want, but not if one of the major motivations is to make yourself feel better and say, "Well at least, I'm not like them." We are like them, and the sooner we recognize that--the better off we will all be.

My baby son is laying on the floor right now; gooing his little heart out.

For Tyler, for all the other nameless gay teens who have died, for my son, and for myself I want to recommit myself to speaking out.

I will risk my heterosexual privilege and take the chance of seeming weird, or annoying, or unable to take a joke. I will continue to examine my own beliefs and attitudes, so that I can try and rid myself of the homophobia that I have picked up along the way.

I will do this in hopes that if my son tells me one day "Mom, I'm gay." I can say, "ok" and that will be the end of it. I won't have to join a support group, and I won't have to worry that because my son is gay, people are going to think it's okay to make fun of him, or beat him up, or kill him.

So, the internet can be used for evil and the internet can be used for good. More than anything, it's probably used to waste ridiculous amounts of time. Today, I am using my little piece of it to invite you all to take risks. To resist complacency; to think about the ways that you continue to be part of the problem, and the things that you can do to continue to be part of the solution.

As always, I welcome your thoughts.