If, for some reason you have not read this great piece by BFP, please do so.
Like, now.
Remembering Katrina
Because I didn’t live in New Orleans two years ago, remembering is the least I can do.
Updates
So, Adonis and I have been in Boston for almost a month. Him, less so, because he joined me later in August.
I have been working 70 weeks with little time to organize my new apartment, my new office, my schedule, and, overall, my new life. My new life has vomited upon itself several times with no bib for stain control. The remnants are disgusting.
A truly spectacular facet of life is the ability to move to a big(ger) city and feel like your world is actually smaller than before. Living in downtown Boston has cornered me to visit the same 7-11, Dunkin Donuts, grocery stores, and walking parks. Everything is walkable, which is a dream, but it also has shrunk my world to my own two feet. For (mostly) better or for worst, my car runs on the same tank of gas it has run on for almost 3 weeks. That has never happened in my entire life of driving. It’s a beautiful thing.
But the urban life has it’s downfalls. The human-made noises of cities can be a bit much, there is no available quiet. Just last night there was a shooting across the street. And while I do not live my life in fear of danger, it is a bit startling to think I just walked through the door, walking that sidewalk where such violence occurred.
Adonis and I have been talking about the issues of homelessness that cannot be ignored in our new community. Poverty has always been the most central issue in my social justice feats, but to begin to recognize faces everyday has begun to unravel me. The man on crutches, with one leg, who has stopped shaking his cup when I walk by has entered my dreams now. Who I am to this man that he stops hoping I give him change? Who am I and what do I do? Do I give? How much and for how long? Do I volunteer? Do I pray? Talk to him? Hope for the best and expect the worst? What happens when a nor’easter comes through in a few months?
How does one respond to systematic injustice in which the effects are so visible in our everyday lives? I am human as this person and feel trapped. The vulnerable and weak humanity in both of us is so clear – his ability to live a just life, my ability to help.
I think about how much I wanted to move to a city after the midwest and I laugh. Every time I think I have passed a stage of naivety, I realize I am merely entering a new one. Ready for the bustle, speed, and excitement, but ill-prepared for the exhaustion, urbanurbanurban-ness of it all.
Adonis begins his doctoral program in two weeks and I am trying to keep my greedy hands off of his new books and syllabi. Ooooo, I get excited for doctoral classes. I rip open his book packages – which are clearly labeled with his name – for myself because I want to sniff out the topics he is delving into: genocide and Rwanda, violence as an epidemic, and theological ethics.
I am going through another bagel phase in my life. I have eaten a Lender bagel nearly everyday for three weeks. If I missed a day, I have grabbed one at Dunkin Donuts. They are supplementing my meals in which I have had no time to cook or, for that matter, no money to buy for real meals or experimental recipes. I still have my beautiful spice rack, but I think my manaical cooking escapades must take back burner as we step down to a one-income partnership.
I miss my family, I miss my life. I miss working in a place that centered feminism where it was so easy to live it out. Feminism, these days, are about explaining who I am to people who are not familiar with it and nod slowly when I explain wedges of complexity. My co-workers are deeply curious and, for some reason, I feel intensely private about my beliefes. I fear they might be too radical. Perhaps that should be a welcome challenge. I am living out my feminism where it is unprotected and unknown. A new territory has been ventured, and I am walking slowly through it. With bagels, of course.
Spotlighting WOC Feminist Authors
Because if one more person gives me a book about feminism written for young women in which YOUNG women of color are given a sideglance
Because if I bitch anymore without offering options
Because if I don’t do my part in highlight women of color who are standing up and speaking out
I MIGHT GO NUTS BEFORE ’08 GETS HERE.
Want to give young women of color books to read where they may feel more at home with the author?
Here’s an option, order a copy or download the entire work of a woman from Advocates for Youth
Marcela Howard’s, “Walk in My Shoes: A Black Activist’s Guide for Surviving the Women’s Movement.”
I have yet to finish it in its entirety, but this is a series of essays meant for a younger crowd, a telling of why one woman of color stayed with the Women’s and Reproductive Rights Movement despite its history of racial exclusion.
UNFP: The United Nation’s Population Fund…
is the largest international resource of assistance for women, some in the poorest parts of the world.
Read how their funding has been withheld for the past six years and what is going on with global health and women’s rights.
And what you can do about it.
Over the Feminist Rainbow
This photo was taken by the author in Kauai, 2005.
Somewhere over the rainbow
where I can’t see
There’s a place that I dream of
called feminist equality
Somewhere over the rainbow
womyn of color fly
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true
Some day I’ll speak and be believed
And wake up where there is no rage inside me
Where oppression melts like lemondrops
and racism ends like lollipops
That’s where you’ll find me
Somewhere over the rainbow
womyn of color fly
I watch others fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can’t I?
Some days I read hooks and Lorde
And dream of Anzaldua’s sword
My words come from harvest crops
and carries to the mountain tops
That’s where you’ll find me
Somewhere over the rainbow
Freedom flies
I need to fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can’t I?
If feminism says I can fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can’t I?
–adapted from the original song Over the Rainbow by Yip Harburg
Mabuhay
Here is powerful piece about what is dying in the Homeland, the Philippines.
I am crosssing my fingers for my first trip “back home” sometime in March. It’s softer than tentative plans. But my parents are returning home together for the first time since they came to this country over thirty years ago.
There are moments in life where nothing is more important than being a witness.
I must be there.
My Classifieds Section
This is the new way and tag that I will be blogging about my mood – offering it to the world in the form of a classified ad. The need is real, so respond if you fit.
FOCW seeks Mentor.
This feminist of color writer seeks passionate mentor.
A passionate person who is willing to dish it out with me. A person who will challenge me, push me, understand me, offer me, inspire me with their experiences of the world. Must be able to redirect, rephrase, interrpt my long winded explanations. Communication channels between brain and mouth must be devoted to issues of oppression and difference. Issues will be devoted to commitment, writing schedule, gender/ace battleships, and resistance. Must love the grey issues, Brown, and all things related to true radical, inclusive, progressive feminism.
Please email with interest.
This Bridge I Must Strengthen
I continue to do photography worship for This Bridge Called My Back. Playing around with the facets of the bridge and its relevance to women of color and feminism, I consider the elements of why Bridges are so fascinating, and the symbolic meaning of when they collapse.
It’s something I wonder about with my radical women of color bloggers and the future we are building for young women. In our contemplation of collective change and organization, we consider things very carefully. I wonder where and how we will strengthen and revitalize the Bridge built for us. I am more than aware of the warnings issued about the weak areas of the Bridge for young women of color. What can I contribute to ensure safe crossings into the future, to stabilize what weakens with the natural passing of time?
