Friday, May 16, 2014

'That’s Just How Daddies Are' by Ravyn LaRue

I never used to think about this
but it really worries me
that out of the two guys I’ve properly dated
I didn’t really like either of them
and I’m scared that one day
I’ll end up a mother
apologetic for my child’s father’s actions
just as my mother was and is
“Oh, honey,
That’s just how Daddies are
they never think you’re smart enough
and want you to settle down with a nice guy by sixteen
and then you’ll date bad people
who make you feel like nothing
that’s just the what makes the world go round, dear"

Thursday, May 15, 2014

'Singing Badly Is Better Than Not Singing At All' by Ravyn LaRue

I was writing midnight poems in my head
thinking about how an artist I admire
had been ranting on twitter about how
his work isn’t good enough
and that he isn’t as proud of himself as others are of him
and I wondered if this was due
to his dealings with depression
since I haven’t felt truly proud of anything I’ve made
since about November, hence about seven months
likely due to my own depression
yet I keep on with my art, not because I think it’s good
but because I feel there isn’t any alternative
if I were to quit doing what I do, I would feel less human
so then I began thinking
about how I want to be an Ed Wood
I want to press on regardless of what I or anyone else thinks of my art
not because I’m caught up on quality
since, believe me, I don’t currently care for my own stuff
but because that is how I need to exist
and the art I need to make
is what I need to put my energy into
since if I were to channel my energy elsewhere
who knows what would happen
and I, at least, cannot afford to find out

Consciousness Raising and Invoking Role Models

(I'm uploading my Women's Studies homework, which is, of course addressed to the professor who'll be grading it, because of personal reasons...)

Consciousness Raising: A Radical Weapon by Kathie Sarachild:

Summary: In this article a group of women gathered together in order to simply talk about their stories and see whether these things happened to women in general or just themselves. What they discovered is that, sadly the negative things including being insecure about their bodies, feeling compelled to play dumb around boys, were universal for women. They went on to begin asking questions, such as who benefits from women feeling insecure and playing dumb. They decided to use their own personal life as research to become intellectually armed against the oppression of patriarchy, since knowing and recognizing our own, and each other’s struggles and fighting against that oppression, is the sort of activism that helps change the world for the better little by little.

Response: I began writing about this article, on Tuesday with my response focussing on the mere validation that the idea of personal storytelling as activism brought me in regards to combatting the selfishness I feel when I kvetch about difficulties in my life, but since then something unexpected yet related to this happened to me. I write poetry as a way to have emotional catharsis and in hopes of understanding things that plague my mind with uneasy questions, and subsequently I’ve written a multitude of poetry about my experiences last semester. Last semester I went to Columbia College Chicago for writing with a minor in acting, yet things changed entirely when I wound up having a bigoted acting teacher. She said and did a multitude of things I found tremendously homophobic, misogynistic, transphobic, racist, slut-shaming and body negative, though I was in the minority in terms of taking issue. I was the one of two openly queer kids in the class, and since the other individual said he wasn’t offended since he was used to it (which made me incredibly sad) everyone in authority I told about her bigotry towards queer people brushed me off as being overly sensitive, and likely just making things up. I began to doubt my own feelings, since I had major depression at the time and figured perhaps I was as crazy as those I told were making me out to be. Since this was, and still is, a really confusing thing to me, that I can be made to feel so broken by someone who held the same role as the person who made me feel the best (see next response) and to have my emotions pegged as invalid by people I once trusted, I wound up writing lots of poetry about the situation. Recently, since I posted my poems on my blog, someone who’s currently an acting student as Columbia sent me a message asking if my poetry about the bigoted teacher was referring to [jerk Teacher's name], which it was, and if so, I’m not the only one who feels/felt oppressed by her, since a multitude of her friends all feel the same. She said they were so hurt that they’ve banded together to inform authorities and hopefully get her fired, or at least told off for her remarks and actions. At first I was relieved that I wasn’t alone in feeling hurt, but immediately after that honeymoon stage, I realized how awful it is that it isn’t just me- that other people feel as degraded as I once did. I commended them for being braver than I and asked the person who messaged me to let them know that I support them entirely, and if there’s anything I can do to help their effort, I’ll do it. What this proves to me is that storytelling as activism isn’t just a bunch of pretty words and rose-tinted goggle beliefs. If I hadn’t written about my struggles then they wouldn’t have been read by like-minded individuals, and I wouldn’t have realized that I truly am not alone in these feelings.
style no. 1 by Sonia Sanchez:

Summary: This poem is about a woman who invokes the strength of a family friend named Mama Dixon in order to call out a sexual harasser who flashed her. She cusses at him and yells at him in a way Mama Dixon would. Subsequently she used one of her heroes as inspiration to take action and not be silent when someone harasses her.

Response: When I first read this poem, I thought it was an interesting poem, but I didn’t think much of it, aside from the fact that the speaker was definitely far braver than I would’ve been, but then, with the combination of re-reading it and having our discussion in class, I realized the core of what I should get out of this. I almost teared up in class since I realized all at once who my Mama Dixon had to be: my former teacher, Ms.Hart. Ms.Hart was my acting/singing teacher and my hero who taught me to value myself and gain the confidence I needed to thrive as a Musical Theatre major in high school. Sadly, over the last year, I’ve reverted to the self I was before I knew her- the sort of demure, un-assuming, catholic girl who barely said ten words per day, and when she did, those words were all, “sorry”. I can’t help but be perturbed with myself for allowing the difficulties I faced to scare me back into my shell. Subsequently, especially since Ms.Hart isn’t in my day-to-day life any more, I think I have to conjure her as my Mama Dixon so I can become the self I want to be, and stop being as fearful as the sorry self I’ve reverted to.

Combined Response: I know this is unorthodox, but I wanted to do a combined response with the first and second articles since my reactions to both are linked to one another: I think I need to conjure Ms.Hart’s strength in my mind as I continue to push back against my bigoted former teacher. I may have to return to Chicago to testify, and I cannot allow my fear to overcome me, especially since I doubt her actions would have hurt me as much if I hadn’t realized how striking the contrast is of an acting teacher who truly wants you to thrive exactly as you are, as opposed to only wanting the pretty, white, straight, gender-conforming individuals to achieve great things. Ms.Hart would be as heartbroken as I if she knew someone with the same authority as her was causing people who simply want to make art as best as they can, to feel like art no longer accepts them. There’s a lyric from an Amanda Palmer song that I clung to at the time that said, “And I am tired of explaining / And of seeing so much hating / In the very same safe havens / Where I used to just see helping.” I can use the fact that my hero would be so appalled and wouldn’t stand for what she and I both find as our safe-space turned into something that’s furthest thing from safe to help give me courage to keep fighting, even though I was scared enough to run away. I can fight from afar from continuing on with storytelling as my way of activism. I’ve been wanting to write a feminist memoir (for lack of a better word) about the entirety of last semester since even having attended stereotypically bigoted catholic school, I’ve never known anywhere where bigotry was so thick in the atmosphere as Columbia. Know with recent developments, I think my first goal should be writing about my bigoted teacher, since in that way, I am not the only one, subsequently I’m not stifled by perceived selfishness in my kvetching.

This class also gave me courage, and I am truly thankful! I may venerate Ms.Hart, but I have an arsenal of feminist role models who give me strength, and you (Sharon) are among them, and I’m grateful for this class. I really love Women’s Studies and I hope to take your Women and Empowerment class in the Spring, but at the very least, I want to join the Feminists Organizing for Change club on campus. My friends have been joking lately that I’ve turned into a roaring whining Feminist, and as strange as that may seem, I wear that alleged insult as a badge of honor. If I had been a roaring whining feminist last semester, I may have help make positive changes happen, but my opportunity hasn’t ended, and this class motivates me to never stop fighting for feminism, even if that simply means posting my silly little poems online. Thank you very much, Sharon, you’ve helped me greatly!

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Storytelling Is Activism

Today in my women's studies class we talked about the importance of consciousness building, which is done by making each other aware of our experiences through our stories in order to keep from hiding our difficulties and human-ness. The point of this is to know for ourselves and to make sure others realize that we are not alone in our plights and journeys, particularly in regards to marginalized groups. My professor mentioned how our culture has sadly veered away from personal storytelling in favor of allowing the power of storytelling to be controlled by the higher-ups in media, subsequently believing hollywood portrayals of difficulties over our own experiences and stories, and over the stories of our friends. That's really problematic since, regardless of how hard the creative people involved may try, big media companies always have at least a tiny sliver of an agenda, even if that agenda is simply, "it'd be nice if we could make some money off of this thing, lest we starve" subsequently there is more of a push to be appealing than telling the truth.

Not only that, but due to the people in power who do want to actively subdue people whose voices have historically been more stifled, there is often a pushback when personal stories of marginalized peoples are told. The oppressors often say things to the effect of, "Why are you whining? There are children in third world countries starving to death and you're crying about microaggressions and misrepresentation like a big baby..." This isn't the right approach, this is simply a way to further silence the stories of people who aren't at the top of the media pyramid.

This struck me so strongly, since I've been struggling for ages with going back and forth between wanting to tell my own story of my survival semester difficulties, and feeling like I'm some big whiner who doesn't have the right to complain about my struggles since I wasn't left for dead in an abandoned ditch (or whatever). What this specific class today did was make me feel empowered, so that whenever I get those feelings, remember, no matter how minute the stories may seem, storytelling is activism!

Going off of that, it seemed strange to me that, upon being asked if I consider myself an activist, I was the only person in my class to raise my hand. I've always felt like one to some degree- Lisa Simpson was one of my fictional childhood heroes, before I even knew what the words meant, I was belting along with 'HAIR', I remember holding Peace signs on street-corners on election night in 2004. It didn't seem like a groundbreaking, soul-searching question. My professor mentioned that everyone in the class should consider themselves such, or at least had good reason to, considering they were actively taking a class meant to help us better understand other people's struggles.

My professor mentioned how much she appreciates our written responses to such wide-reaching issues as sexual harassment, ablism, domestic violence, body image, religion as enrichment or interference, etc... She said many of the stories we tell, she never would've heard from anyone but us, since many stories we write are so unlike what's portrayed in widespread media. I think that's why I need to keep on with my feminist memoir project- I haven't the slightest idea as to what will become of it, but it's worth being put into the public sphere, since it might be of use to someone else knowing they are not alone in this.

While I'm on the subject, I am really happy and thankful for the people who have put their stories out into the world. They help me on a daily basis to know I'm not alone in my difficulties. Sometimes that solidarity comes in the form of a song, and sometimes in the form of a poem on a friend's blog. Other times it's fictionalized, yet no less personal, for instance two of the things that helped me through my most difficult times were stories of trying to find love in a world full of cruelty, and using art to help you until then, even if everyone else thinks your art sucks ('Demo Reel' and 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch').

Storytelling saves lives- I recently came upon the song 'Ukulele Anthem', which has the lyric, "You may think my approach is simple-minded and naïve- like if you want to change the world then why not quit and feed the hungry, but people for millennia have needed music to survive, and that is why I promised John that I will not feel guilty".

That's why I need to tell my story- it will help someone somehow, even if that someone is simply me!

Saturday, May 10, 2014

'Woven Roots' by Ravyn LaRue

I feel like I'm living to unintentionally piss off beloveds
I see them and I know I did something wrong
though I cannot reconcile what that something must be
but I feel like a burden
I feel like there's no way I'm worth their love
since lately I don't even feel worthy of my own
but I have to press on since that's what must be done
but I feel myself writhing around in awful
balking at everything while my heart tries to stop me
but right now I'm just pretending and coasting
since I cannot dig deep enough
to find the goodness
which is likely why I push away the ones I love the most

Friday, May 9, 2014

'Sunday at the Mall with Tutu' by Ravyn LaRue

Today was lovely
I spent it at the mall with my grandma
just like sweet hapless third grade summers
when tragedies seemed risque and exciting
instead of as sad as they are
since I didn't have to be an adult then

she'd buy me books and smoothies
as she did again today
and she'd let me vent
and abstain from her chatterbox ways
since she knew (and knows) I need her

she told me stories I've heard before
and corrected my grammar meticulously
and made tiny hidden comments about my weight
yet I miss the days when this was always

now everything is so heavy grim and brooding
it was nice pretending to be a kid again
and hearing her brag about me as her granddaughter
and call me Katie

a stranger told me to cherish these times
and believe me
I do

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Feminist Memoir Tidbit- May 8th 2014 12:56 PM

It really shouldn’t hurt to heal from something the world refuses to see as anything but my own selfish teenage angst. I hear people talk about the most horrendous things like rape and violence in the same words I use to describe my survival semester, and I cannot help but feel guilty. I reassure myself with flowery quotes about how feeling is brave and my heart’s aching is legitimate, yet I always find myself writing this same spiel of prose about how so many have it worse off than me, yet I must complain to prompt my own healing. Yet all of this does me no good. I was walking through Minneapolis this morning behind a group of cackling dancer girls who reminded me of characters I saw last semester on campus. I felt an urge to shove my ribcage in, pluck out my heart, throw it on the sidewalk beneath my feet and punt the wretched thing into an adjacent ally, since tiny things like strangers’ similarity shouldn’t be enough to get me to feel such a painful longing. I need to write this book, but I don’t feel smart enough to be an intellectual about this, and I don’t feel strong enough to turn this into anything worthy of being called art. I keep feeling like an improvement until the smallest things reduce me to a sobbing pile of mush. And the things I sought comfort in seem to be disintegrating in my mind. I am in a purgatory for pathetic souls who cannot move on. It’s nearly summer, and I’m still scared to give myself over to this project, especially since instances that others with worse backgrounds can merely shrug off still propel me back to the times when I felt my very weakest. It’s an educated guess that I probably won’t be able to do this, yet I cannot let that stop me. I’m scared, and because I’m scared, I’m resorting to the idea that I ought to scare away those who may hurt me. I cannot live like this- I still feel the same thing as I did in Chicago, where my soul sees all the wrong I do and tries to stop me, yet my autopilot for survival simply will not listen. That’s why I need to write this, even if it only makes sense to me.