It's been coming for a while, as my posts to this blog have become less and less frequent over the last year. And now it's here. I'm clear I've lost my drive to blog. It might be temporary, so I'm not officially closing this blog, but rather going on hiatus.
Thank you for your support! See you, perhaps, down the road.
Given that the Twin Cities is clearly swarming with we GLBT people and our allies, I find it hard to imagine that there are people with absolutely no reasonably close contact with anyone or anything gay. But just in case, I thought a guide for those ten straight people who live completely outside our world would be helpful.
So here is my Straight People's Unofficial Guide to the 2012 TC Pride Festival and Parade (and gay people in general):
Don't let all that flamboyance fool you, we can be as dull as the next person. At the same time, that seemingly achingly boring co-worker in the cube next to you just might be the most fabulous drag king or queen at the parade. You just don't know.
Our world is as diverse as yours. Given our hugeness, you can imagine there is a niche for everyone. We are hipsters, geeks, corporate types, suburbanites, city dwellers, rural folks, families, singles, couples, old people, young people, happy people, sad people. We are brown, black, tan, and white. We are rich, poor, and just getting by. You get my drift. And we will all be at the festival (or at least a representative sample will be there).
We claim many names to express our identities. The standards of course are gay, lesbian, bisexual. But we are also queer, dyke, boi, stud, femme, butch, bear, and on and on. The transgender community is fierce and strong here, complete with its own rhythms, language, and lifestyles. We are all in this together. I personally like to call myself "queer" because of its inclusiveness, but will use the more tame "lesbian" when needed.
When I came out over 20 years ago in my mid-thirties and went to my first pride festival, it was somewhat daring to be a politician in the parade or a corporation with a tent hawking wares and showing support in the park. Times have changed! These days, the parade is way too long because so many politicians, churches, and businesses join in. In fact, some people don't like how "corporate" we've become. I think it's a wonderful sign of our normality, and of our political and buying clout.
Lots and lots of straight people come to the festival and parade. In fact, it is impossible to tell who is gay, straight, bisexual, or something else all together. Don't worry about going to Loring Park and being labeled as gay. We won't be able to tell, and neither will your neighbors if you wind up on TV. Beside, being gay is great. If you get mistaken for one of us, enjoy!
But lest you think this is a commentary on how "we are just like you but gay," here are a few of the ways our similarities to you part, and why we fight so hard for simple things like the right to marry, to be parents, to worship, to be ourselves.
Parenting/family. We are crawling with kids. Some of us (like me) had kids before we came out, and many others chose one of the many routes to becoming a parent while "in the life:" adoption, artificial insemination, fostering. My point is this. Most GLBT folks have to work really hard to become parents (it's pretty hard to get "knocked up" by accident in a same-gender relationship). Since that means we typically need to consciously choose to become parents, we are pretty committed to being good ones.
Worship. While many GLBT people can and do attend mostly straight places of worship, lots of us like to pray together, amongst ourselves. Religion is at the root of most good and much evil. It is used to raise up our common humanity and to create war. So, it's nice to pray where you know you are loved. I know of a church that is all African American, all gay and lesbian people. And they are holy rollers, living by "The Word," their way. I love this, deeply.
Marriage. You truly have to be living off the grid to have missed that GLBT people are fighting for our right to marry. Some people in the gay community are less enthused, wondering why we would want to engage in a practice that has failed so miserably in the straight world (the over 50% divorce rate being their proof point). But lots of us want to get married for all the reasons straight people want to tie the knot -- love, commitment, family, a nice party -- and legal protections. In Minnesota there is going to be a ballot this fall letting people vote on whether or not marriage can constitutionally be defined as only between a man and a woman. Now we have to spend all kinds of time fighting that idiotic piece of legislation instead of other more important social justice issues. Grrr.
Health care. This is actually connected to my marriage point. Those of us in committed relationships don't get access to family health care plans unless we happen to work for a company or organization that provides "domestic partner" benefits. This is expensive and dangerous as it results in many people going uninsured, including children.
Now that you are armed with more knowledge having read this guide, I invite you to come to our festival and parade and join in all the fun. I also invite you to join us in our fight for full equality and acceptance, in life and under the law. Happy Pride!
Freedom Band
Dykes on bikes
Welcoming Church
We have political clout. And we vote
Yes s/he does
GLBTQ youth getting our support, supporting each other
Pride is a family affair for parents with wee ones...
...and with teen ones
Me, with random clown
Friends being festive, having fun
Photo source: My personal TC Pride photos 2007-2011
I got a little teary eyed as the news broke and we learned President Obama officially went on record to endorse same-sex marriage/marriage equality. Another historic moment experienced in my lifetime. Another step on the march toward full equality as citizens in our nation for queer people.
A kiss from my president to my queer self.
As someone who has worked for twenty plus years in public relations, including a stint as a communications director for an elected official, I know first hand the discussions, the vetting, the weighing of how/if/when to take controversial positions on polarizing, controversial topics. But I scoff at the cynics who see this as purely a political move. Yes, we are in an election year, and yes that had, HAD, to be taken into account.
But I believe Barack Obama - the person - has fully supported and believed in equal rights for queer people for many years. Those are the values he and his wife are instilling/have instilled in their children after all. I believe he came to a point personally AND politically where his personal beliefs needed to be aligned with his very public role as President. No matter the risk. Because it simply was the right thing to do. It's yet to be seen if this hurts or helps his reelection bid.
Yes, there are nuances to better understand. Will he now openly work to overturn DOMA? I hope so. Will he champion legislation to make same-sex marriage legal everywhere? I hope so. But whatever happens know this: that endorsement is a huge, historic, important next step that transcends President Obama. As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr said, "The arc of the moral universe is long, but It bends toward justice." Yes it does. Yes it will.
Earlier today I imagined, as the news spread, millions of queer people across this country feeling a little lighter, a little more valued and accepted. I imagined closeted people cracking open that oppressive door and considering, "Maybe I can, now." I imagined more queer people kissing in public. Just because. And most important, I imagined queer and questioning youth envisioning a more open and accepting future awaiting them.
My tears came when I took this all in, took in what it means to be queer in this country under a president who says, "You matter. Your rights count."
So this is so much more than endorsement of same sex marriage. It is endorsement of being queer, in all its beautiful forms.
Thank you, President Obama. Again and again and again.
Some highlights from the interwebs:
The endorsement
The inspirational image to share
For the rainbow inclined
The Hillary meme (Go Hillary in 2016!)
And best of all, a brand new meme to celebrate (you MUST click to see the gifs. Hilarious.)
I just turned 56. First, thank you universe, I am still hear, still alive, still fierce, still working it out. Second, I am now on a trajectory towards 60. I have lots to say about this, I've been ruminating all winter about aging - and more importantly - ageism. I just haven't been writing. But I'm almost ready. So stay tuned. It's a coming...
Until then, as this blog was first called, I invite all to EMBRACE YOUR AGE: YOU'RE LIVING!
Finally, what we all have been waiting for. President Obama speaks out about Trayvon Martin. This story has been elevated to a level where our country - the world - must now pay attention. Finally, thanks to social media and the ability it creates to mobilize millions, this senseless tragedy may find justice, and a national conversation on race relations is exploding. Finally, millions of white people may now have an awareness about and a better understanding of "the talk" parents of black and brown children must have about "no matter how amazing and wonderful you are, you are not safe in this world" as their children are coming of age. Finally.
National Public Radio reports the story here, but below is an excerpt:
"When I think about that boy, I think about my own kids" and that "if I had a son, he'd look like Trayvon," President Obama just said when asked about the death of 17-year-old Trayvon Martin and the national discussion it has reignited about race relations in America.
Without commenting on what happened in Sanford, Fla., on Feb. 26, when 28-year-old George Zimmerman shot Martin, the president said it is "absolutely imperative that we investigate every aspect of this" to determine "exactly how this tragedy happened."
"All of us have some soul searching" to do, said the president, "to figure out how something like this happened."
And Obama said he has a message for Martin's parents: "If I had a son, he'd look like Trayvon. I think they are right to expect that all of us as Americans are going to take this with the seriousness this deserves and get to the bottom of what happened."
And here is a video clip of his comments:
I would just add this: Yes, if President Obama had a son he would look like Trayvon. And at 17, the teenager who would become our president could have been Trayvon. Think about that and let it sink in...
Trayvon Martin, killed at age 17, on Feb. 26, 2012
Most of us didn't know much about the murder of Trayvon Martin until it blew up on Twitter when the 911 tapes were released on March 16. The tapes essentially documented that a teenage African American kid was murdered in Florida while walking back from a store where he had bought Skittles and iced tea. Apparently those actions were grounds for "suspicious behavior," to be shot and killed.
When I listened to the tapes, I flew into a rage, a mama rage, and joined in the shared outrage on Twitter.
If you've been paying attention, you know this story by now. You know that his shooter, Geroge Zimmerman, a "neighborhood watch" volunteer, has not yet been arrested. You know the Department of Justice is finally involved. And you know this story was silent in our national headlines for far too long. How did it take almost two weeks for most of us to learn about this? Somehow the senseless death of a black teenage kid just doesn't make the lede. But thanks to social media and a few dedicated journalists, the outrage, by this week, could no longer be ignored.
If you haven't been paying attention, catch up now. One of the best sources is NY Times journalist Charles M. Blow, who was one of the first to bring this story to a national audience in his March 16 column. He also has been relentless in his pursuit of the story, chronicling it all on his Twitter account. Another good source is Goldie Taylor, again on Twitter. Or Google "Trayvon Martin."
But here's the deal. The outrage is mostly polarized. Like it was with so many slain young African American men before Trayvon. And it is polarized in a specific way. We white people don't get how each death is so much more than the horror of the individual incident - it is most certainly that - but it is also the hundreds and hundreds of murders and lynchings that have come before, and the daily threat to any black person, but especially any black male over the age of 12, that this too could be your story. Any day. Any time. For any reason.
The Grio just published this slideshow which sets Trayvon's murder in the terrible history of young men and women who have been killed before him. Watch, remember, and carry it forward. Because there will be more.
Write about that instead. Write about how white people, even if we are terribly upset about what happened, cannot begin to understand the depth of the outrage, sorrow and worry that black and brown people feel. Unless we have a black or brown son, spouse or loved one. Only then do we begin to step a little bit closer to that outrage, the despair, and the worry - because only then do we feel it from within the context of love and the deepest parts of our hearts.
I never would have understood this had I not raised a black son. He was first stopped and searched by the police at 13 and has been stopped many times since for no reason. His daily existence equates to "suspicious behavior" for far too many. I live with a constant worry of "what if." He has already been dragged under by the streets, by "the system," and by his own foolishness. Yet still he survives, trying to thrive. Actually just trying to live. And he knows, as sure the air he breathes, as sure the depth of his love for his own young son, that at 29, at any given moment, he could be the one in the cross hairs for "acting suspicious."
Even if we have a Black president. Even if he was president.
That is our country's shared disgrace. That is the thing we must all understand and fight.
March 21 Update: NPR has excellent coverage of this issue this morning.
This is a trailer for an upcoming documentary about stylish New York older women. While their tres chic, over the top sense of style may or may not be you, I love the message: No matter your age, no matter your personal style, werk it girl!
I still have her debut album, on vinyl, scratched with use and time.
It was 1985. I remember listening to it over and over, and thinking it was the most amazing voice I had ever heard coming out of the most beautiful young woman I had ever seen. Three octaves smooth like butter. She became a staple in our home during the 80s and 90s, and my kids, born in '83 and '86, both remember growing up with her music. My daughter sang "The Greatest Love of All" in her middle school choir, and remembered all the words thanks to the constant rotation at home.
I have visceral memories of two of her movies, again related to my family.
We adopted viewing "The Preacher's Wife" as an annual holiday tradition, but my daughter, now 26, loved it so much she watched it over and over, year round.
Her favorite track from the movie:
And mine:
Just this morning, my almost 29 year old son and I were talking about her passing. He was visibly shocked and moved. His hard-core-rap-loving tough guy self, it turns out, had a soft spot for Whitney. He said "She was my girl. The Bodyguard. Oh my God." Me too, son, me too.
And who can forget her rendition of the Star Spangled Banner at the 1991 Super Bowl. The best, perhaps ever.
I remember her fading from my personal life soundtrack as troubles overtook hers and the hits slowly stopped coming. I was sad for her, but never stopped loving her music or hoping she would get over whatever demons gripped her and that she would come back. For us, for her.
Yet she is gone at 48. Preceded so recently by Don Cornelius, Etta James, Heavy D, and of course Michael Jackson. Others who left indelible marks on my life and the lives so many others. I feel so very sad about it all, this loss of artists/celebrities I never met. It's not the wrenching grief of losing a friend or a family member; it's sadness for the loss of people who gave us amazing music that is embedded deeply into our life's memories; artists who mark an era, a time, a place. Forever.
There is an irony when someone famous dies who has slipped into harder times, harder places. Like Michael Jackson, with Whitney's passing, we are flooded in every media/medium possible with tributes and clips of her good years, her greatest songs, her amazing talent. Last night when the news of her passing broke, Twitter was an online community conversation and remembrance. We forget the drama and difficulty. Instead, we remember the music, the gifts we all received, times when the music marked our lives. And we are grateful and in love all over again.
Last Friday, a group of friends came together to go see Pariah, a coming of age story featuring an African American lesbian teenager living in New York. It is a fabulous movie, specific to its characters and geography, but a coming of age story anyone could relate to. It was opening night for the movie and I was shocked and disappointed that the theater was not packed. In Minneapolis we have a huge GLBTQ community and we need to support films like this. But we were there and we loved it. I asked my friend Millicent if she would write a review and guest post it here. She agreed and it's great. But before you read it (below), watch the movie's trailer.
Pariah - A Review by Millicent
Pariah was one of the best coming of age stories I have ever seen. Alike, the main character, was deeper than most teen characters are in films I’ve seen. She was tomboyish, but not overly so, like her best friend Laura. She liked alternative music, she was quiet and introspective. And she was a writer. Definitely not the stereotypical inner- city black, baby dyke. Her butch appearance during school was different from what was inside her. I liked the duality in this 17 year old budding lesbian. She knew who she was; she was just trying to find out how to express it.
I can relate to Alike. I, too, am a Black lesbian who grew up in a big city. When I was young it was hard to just be ‘me’. I wasn’t hard enough for the fem girls, and I definitely wasn’t fem enough for the butch dykes. And reading and bike riding and going to foreign films didn’t always sit well with some of the people I knew back in the day. To be a person who thinks for yourself sometimes leaves you alone to find your own way. It takes strength to be an individual, and Alike learns this in the movie.
The movie was different in the way it chose to show where Alike’s conflict came from. Her mother was in denial, of course, but she had support from her father, her sister, and her best friend. The real battle was going on inside her. Could she have the guts to confront her mother? Could she allow herself to seek out others who had the same interests as she did without losing her best friend? Could she find love and still be Alike? These are the issues she struggled with in the film, and unlike a lot of GLBT films that I see, she actually does something about her problems, and doesn’t die or get treated like dirt at the end. I don’t like tragedy for tragedy’s sake, and this film breaks the mold on typical ‘gay’ films.
It was great to see a rough dyke like Laura portrayed as a deeper character also. She was a good friend to Alike, and had issues with family and work. Her rugged exterior hid a softer side, and I think it was good to show mainstream audiences that these women are complex beings. What you see is not all there is. She reminded me of a lot of my friends from back home. I loved my rugged dyke girlfriends, and that tough exterior was and is often just a mask of who they really are.
Overall Pariah is a must-see for anyone wanting a coming of age story that is truthful and real. I liked it, and I may even buy a copy to add to my collection.
For the last few weeks a slew of videos have been passed around the internet about "shit [insert ] say," or "shit [insert] say to [insert]." Some people hate them, saying they perpetuate stereotypes. Other people love them, saying they are funny truths about what they experience and know.
I love them. I think humor is healing and humor is a great teaching tool. White people are the butt of a lot of the jokes. I'm guessing many people never knew until watching the videos that their words or behavior is offensive.
See for yourself:
But wait. I'm not laughing anymore. Kind of overwhelming isn't it, after watching 12 in a row. Imagine living with it. Every. Day. Or maybe you do live with it. Every. Day.
“Our nation was born in genocide when it embraced the doctrine that the original American, the Indian, was an inferior race. Even before there were large numbers of Negroes on our shores, the scar of racial hatred had already disfigured colonial society. From the sixteenth century forward, blood flowed in battles of racial supremacy. We are perhaps the only nation which tried as a matter of national policy to wipe its indigenous population. Moreover, we elevated that tragic experience into a noble crusade. Indeed, even today we have not permitted ourselves to reject or to feel remorse for this shameful episode. Our literature, our films, our drama, our folklore all exalt it.”
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
A true visionary who saw the interconnectedness among all in the fight for justice.
In honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr Holiday: Jan. 16, 2012
