Letter #4

Dear Veronica,

Your Lolo, my die-hard Republican father, called me this morning and said one sentence, "Obama is my president this morning." Oh, how we laughed.

Yesterday was a day that I will tell you about someday when your history text books water everything down and sensationalize the wrong parts of what has taken place these days.

Our first bi-racial President came into office yesterday! But everyone calls him our first African-American president. To me, my darling, he's a man who I see much promise and brings out the promise of others. That's why he got the vote, and first action as a campaign worker, out of me.

I debated as to whether or not I should stand in the cold in Washington, D.C. to be a part of history, or witness history, or however people are phrasing it. And, I decided, I will go and stand on the mall when I see the first womyn take the highest seat. I suppose it would have been worth it to see Obama sworn in, but I feel that I already experienced the best part of history in November, the election day that got us to the inauguration.

That day - election day - is one you'll hear me rave about this until infinity But it was a day I'll never forget and one that I'll never fail to describe. I was able to drive to local campaign office and be partnered up with another volunteer to go canvassing, door to door, and talk with voters to make sure they had exercised their precious right to be heard. Most already had, but what struck me was the feel of my knuckle on the wood, the rapping sound that I caused in a near empty neighborhood and looking into the eyes of a stranger with a smile to ask if Barack Obama could count on their unconditional support that day. Most said, "Of course!"

There were people of every age, a boy on his bike talking about his excitement, a high risk pregnancy woman describing her willingness/ability to still work the phones despite her condition, the fast paced speed at which the organizers spoke, and the long hours I spent with a stranger who turned out to be a physician at a nearby clinic. Her gentle black face and my young brown face smiled for hours as we walked miles and supported one another that day.

Now THAT, my dear, is called being a part of history. If ever you want to be a part of history, remember something: it takes more than just watching. It means sacrificing something along the way and watching your sacrifice unfold in something unpredictable. Being a part of history is a risk, an action. Don't ever just be a witness to history, be one of the holders of the pen that documents it. DO something to make history unfold. They'll always be enough witnesses. Always. Create history instead of witnessing it.

But, still, the majesty and ceremonies was wonderful and the crowds took my breath away on the mall. However, the crowd at Grant Park, the night Obama won, still holds the trophy for wondrous.

Veronica, your father cried yesterday when Obama took his oath and I sprung to my feet and screamed while I jumped up and down in front of our breaking down TV with the largest bunny ears imaginable. No cable choices, we stuck with mainstream NBC to usher us into a new era. I listened as Obama talked about the day you might have children and thought about how your father and I could barely imagine someday having a daughter or son like you to consider, but how the ache to meet you drums louder in our chests everyday.

There are a handful of great days that transpire in life, my love, and yesterday was one of them. Perhaps an even greater day will be the one where I give you a copy of this letter and tell you about this in person.

Love,
Mom

An Open Letter to the Feminist Blogosphere

Dear Feminist Bloggers,

I have to confess, when the Weblog Awards come around, I am usually overwhelmed with the number of how many blogs I DON'T read even though, during the other 364 days of the year, I usually feel like I spend too much time reading other blogs and not working on my own.

Well, this year is no exception. Plenty of great writing and creating going on among the nominees.

I read The Bilerico Project, which is up for Best LBGT Blog. There's not just one thing that I admire about this place, it's just a great group of folks; incisive, provocative, smart. Serve me up some Bilerico anytime.

I'm a pretty big fan of Bitch, PhD which is under Best Very Large Blog. Bitch, PhD is a terrific corner of the internet. Bold, fierce, kind of like watching a rocket first thing in the morning. That's how I feel about this site.

Under Best Hidden Gem, I am hands down for Zuky. Kai Chang is a great supporter of many women of color bloggers and he is ALL about quality writing, quality editing, quality everything. In my mind, Zuky is the blog I give a tender hug every time I read it. It ranges from sobering to free flowing music to jack in the box howling laughter.

Black Women, Blow the Trumpet is up under Best Small Blog and I gotta hand it to BWBTT, it deserves every vote. I began reading a few short months ago and am impressed with the overall energy of the writing. Not to mention, BWBTT is a community builder kind of blog. I often spot her leaving encouraging comments around the internets.

Not that Dooce needs any more press, but under Best Diarist, Dooce took my vote purely because I've read her off and on and watched her make her jump into internet fame and make a bucket of money along the way. She's probably the only mainstream-ish blog I read. What I appreciate most is that she makes me honestly laugh out loud and not LOL kind of fake way, but in a LAUGH OUT LOUD kind of way.

Feministe has a nice round-up of pointing out the "feminist" blogs and offers a guide as to whom may want to throw your weight behind and, of course, it always begs the questions, "What makes a blog feminist?" Out of the blogs out there, what criteria makes a blog feminist? What separates a "feminist" blog from a gender-centered "liberal" blog? What criteria do you have for what makes a writer a "feminist?"

Then, I got thinking about the larger blogosphere and the power of the internet. Is the feminist blogosphere any different than other blogosphere? Do we have any joined purpose or any points of unity?

As soon as I asked myself that, horrid memories of past blog wars and division came to memory. For sanity's and this post's sake, I shirked them off quickly and got back to the questions filling my brain:

Is there any organization among feminist blogs, other than category, which typically function more for division and ease of surfing? Do we, feminist bloggers, agree on ANYTHING? Or are we in existence the same way, say, culinary blog are - informative for their audiences, community building for those seeking alliances, challenging those who want to learn? Those are all fine purposes, but, I can't help but feel more responsibility than that. Am I alone? As a feminist BLOGOSPHERE, do we hold any form of higher purpose for women's lives? Or do we get wrapped up in our individually wrapped fem-brands and remain set in our preferred ways of blogging? As a collective, can and should the feminist blogosphere strive to serve a unified deeper purpose than others? Is that even possible?

Is this a balanced comparison?

Feminisms = Improving Women's Lives

AS

Feminist Blogosphere = Improving Women's Lives

Is the feminist blogosphere a functioning arm of feminism? I'd say YES. How many educators are using the feminist blogosphere in the classroom, community discussions, printing off unknown feminist poets, forwarding the pseudonym-ed writers for the purpose of learning and activism? Countless.

How many lives are improved because of the feminist blogosphere? My life has certainly been enriched by hundreds of writers and philosophers ranging in topic from feminist jurisprudence to feminist disability rights to recipes for financially restricted women and their families. I've found a community of writers offline because of the feminist blogosphere.

How many lives OUTSIDE the feminist blogosphere, outside internet circles, are improved by our writing and work? We could insert the "seed" argument here. ("You never know how many seeds you have planted and how they've grown to influence someone's actions and how that action spurred another and..." AKA - the silent and rarely witnessed domino effect.) And I'm not proposing that we start a cyber crusade, bathed in US colonialism, of "helping" those we deem marginalized. I'm simply asking a question: Is the feminist blogosphere improving, or striving to improve, ALL women's lives?

How easy it is to forget the priviliege of writing, reading, and keeping a blog. It comes with time, access, and security. How might the feminist blogosphere be informed if we could find a way to make media available to the women of Gaza right now? Or if we could read about the best diarist of incarcerated feminists? Would those win any awards? Maybe "Most Courageous," or how about "Largest Risk Takers?" or "Most Needed?" I'd love to see the feminist blogosphere identify not just the worthy blogs that deserve recognition, but actually work together on just one thing. We're bloggers. We create a form of media. Where is our collective media justice? Is that too tall of an order?

The feminist blogosphere remains immeasurable in its richness and it is a privilege to be a part of a community of bloggers who are informed by feminism and write for therapeutic, educational, and activist reasons. However, I contend that we, as a messy, loveable, crazy community, can always do better. And should.

I remain, blogfully yours,

Lisa

Cross-posted at Bitch Magazine

More of that Helen Zia Genius Stuff

If you're a regular reader of my blog, you know that I tend to freely admit my idolatry for Helen Zia.  That practice is what I call 

Zialotry: noun.  The continued practice, thought process, advocacy, and idolatry of Helen Zia.

Origin://The Sudy Verr Online Dictionary of Feminist Verbs//

Zia is the host for As I Am, an hour-long radio program that speaks from and to the Asian American experience, which an unbelievably rich and untapped garden of stories.  Gain insight, think of your own culture, and learn from one of the most inspiring feminists alive, tune in to As I Am.

H/T to Jenn at Reappropriate who always shows me more hope in this world.

Hear from Aaminah: Why Blog?

Why blog? That was the question raised (among others). This comment is from Aaminah:

I guess I got into blogging for completely different reasons than why I do it now. As a writer, trying to get known, trying to get gigs, I was told that I HAD to have a website. I know nothing about setting up a website and I'm poor so I can't pay someone to do it for me. I was reading a few blogs, and talking with some other Islamic writers who said they blogged. It's free, it's easy, it can serve as a website. So that's what I did: I set up a blog to be a "professional" site for me as a writer. Almost as soon as I did so though I started being inundated with comments and emails asking for advice on writing. Me, the nobody in the writing world. But I was game so I started writing posts based on my reading and experiences as I had them. As I got into that, I decided to start a more personal blog, to put my more general thoughts out there. No particular reason except that I could. Eventually, I was reading more blogs than any other media and very inspired by what other people, esp women and women of color were doing with their blogs.

BFP and my friend Umm Zaid were huge influences on my blogging. I wanted my blog to be as inspiring and meaningful from an Islamic standpoint as I find Umm Zaid's. And I wanted to talk about the other not-specific-to-Muslims issues that I care alot about too. I saw how BFP's blog was sorta a call to action. All those resources, things brought together in one place and people talking about these things that I lived in my day to day life like it mattered.

My blogs have gone through a lot of changes because of this. I still keep other blogs too. I keep one for the work on my novel. It's private, only a few people have access to give me feedback. I keep another shared one with a friend for a book we would like to work on together. And another that is very personal spiritual stuff that is private and only for a few eyes. I also have one that I've taken private while I revamp it, but it is Islamic short fiction. I created it because there wasn't anything like that out there and I wanted to help Muslim writers get their stories out there and hope that publishers and magazine editors would notice them and we could bring some attention to the need for this kind of writing, and that we are a significant market. I guess that was sorta my first blog activism.

Now I blog more with activism in mind. I try not to just write and throw stuff up there for the heck of writing, but to be actually saying something. To be connecting to what else is out there, and to provide resources. But yeah, also to share my own writing in hopes that it will attract someone. I hope that my writing helps someone out there, gives them hope that things can change, that they can tell their story, that there are other people out here who care and who know how life can be...

I don't think that blogging is the end of the road. This latest series of situations has really crystalized that for me. Blogging is a tool. There are many tools. I think it is a relevent tool right now, but it's true it doesn't reach everyone. That's why we have to use more than one tool to bring attention to things. BFP stopped blogging, but I don't think that means she stopped thinking, stopped writing, stopped caring, stopped being active. If I stopped blogging, it would, I think, be because I had found a better means of getting my truth out there, and a better way of helping others speak their truth. I would like to explore how anything can be media if we use it that way and blogging isn't all there is to things.

I also agree that blogging and living on-line can become a form of inactive activism. If you are sitting on-line all the time, what are you really DOING? There is a place for it, spreading information, building coalitions, providing support. And many of us needed this in order to find any sense of community. As others have already said, I too am one who found my real community on-line because I don't feel like a part of any community in real life. But at some point we have to step away from the computer and go out into the world to do more than just talk. There is a place for the talk of blogs and it is important, but it shouldn't be mistaken as action or the sum total of our work.

Hear from Lex: Why Blogging

Another response to a series of questions that should not be hidden. From Lex:

Fab's comments really resonate with me. I think there are many reasons that people end up blogging. I started blogging about two years ago (wow doesn't feel like it has been that long) for two reasons.
1. I was preparing for my qualifying exams for grad school and I needed a way to process a whole lot of reading and for accountabilities sake I was turned on about processing with a (mostly imaginary) online audience instead of just with the innards of my own laptop.
2. I was participating in a transformative women of color led healing movement locally and it was really important to us that our work be accessible and accountable to people outside of our local community as well.

3. And then...because of learning about the amazing blogs of my sistren Jasmine Cabot and Kriti I realized that we could put pdfs on blogs and BrokenBeautiful Press which had been much more like a mail order distro became an online space of sharing and production.

So my relationship to blogging is slightly odd. It might not even be called blogging. It might be doing something else through the technological user friendly web sharing templates that the blogging movement has made available.

I am much more likely to post my personal bidness...and my growing plots and plans and my statements of love and support in emails to comrades, sisters, friends...many of which I met through the blogosphere. So that's still a very web-based love that I find fulfilling. It has been particularly sustaining for me during a period in my local community when trust has been broken and stuff has been tentative and difficult.

Anyway all that is to say...like Fab pointed out... my blog is nothing like a journal. When I update a blog it is because I have something specific to share to a broad audience. I also maintain about 50 blogs..so no one blog is my home (don't call it an empire!)

I don't think anyone (at least among the radical women of color and allied media makers that I read) is blogging just to blog. I think we're doing it for reasons acknowledged or unacknowledged...to make space for an issue that everyone is ignoring, to process something that we really want think through, to bring together voices that we think belong together, to be part of a conversation about some particular possibility.

I think the "Why blogging?" question is really important and it is important for us to be loud with our multiple answers to it because our blogging is directly connected to radical theoretical production and community transformation. I think it is the opposite of elitist. I think it is us doing what oppressed folks have always had to do...use tools designed for someone else to make space for ourselves and our loved ones to breathe, celebrate, scream, strategize...

And for those same reasons I don't think it has to be a once a blogger forever a blogger thing. Maybe you'll grow past that particular issue or conversation or project that made you start that particular blog. Maybe the way for us to be accountable has to do with working in a community garden, or doing west african dance, or cooking a lot more at a certain point.
There have been phases in my healing and growing when I haven't wanted to use words at all.
So yeah...let's be intentional about what we do and support each other on and offline. Our individual and collective purposes are bigger than the blogosphere and the atmosphere.

Hear from Fabi: Why Blog?

A few posts ago, I asked a series of questions pertaining to blogging, its purpose and reason. The responses deserve to be out of the comments cell and into the front. Here is from Fabi.

Sudy, here is my pretty long winded answers to your questions. Many of us are grappling with those questions, and I’m glad that you are asking them!

I've heard comments such as those two men in the airport repeatedly from a couple of people in my life, the why bother with blogging, it’s a time sucker, most people we know don’t blog (folks in our community) and our work, etc.
I would try to defend it but often times I would feel ganged up – other people of color very engaged in social activism and their in my opinion, distaste for blogging then instead of understanding it fully I would internalize by feeling as the strange isolated nerd caught up in online writing/dialoguing. I think that not having folks you know in real life that blog -- contributes to the repeated questioning and isolation. Questioning is good too, though. To some extent, like you said yesterday blogging takes you away from the immediate community one’s in. There is the classic example of folks in a coffee shop not speaking to each other, typing away yet they are probably in vibrant online communities. Not underestimating at all what we have on-line with SPEAK, the invaluable support, growth, intellectual challenging discourses – and it IS moving beyond online. Folks are zining, joining forces in conferences, contributing in projects of all sorts, and more.

Keep coming back to this question of why blogging/why not blogging since the indefinite break back in November. For me, it became a pressure that didn’t fit into my reality. Also like feminism, I felt like I had to defend blogging in my real life communities from folks that were withdrawn and critical of blogging. While also eating better became priority, and getting healthy (mind/body/spirit) I couldn’t trade that considering my health, transition, and state. That and many other reasons made it easier to actively not blog.

It is cathartic to on occasion (more than not) tune out of blogging. But yet I have a pulse on it, through our SPEAK collective, the blogs you all actively carry. And if folks decide to stop, it’s not like we stop engaging with each other. We collaborate in zines, now make/shift, gchat, phone calls, e-mails and letters.

And if our blogs remain static – it’s not the end of our relationships. I think of Alexis who updates her blog when she has something to share. Yet, we can have a telephone conversation; contribute to an article, etc. I think of me, I don’t blog in fabulosamujer any more, yet here I am commenting.

Yesterday I engaged in a conversation about blogging with a colleague of mine and she said something that I agreed with completely; it’s okay if something isn’t forever. And also, like kameelah stated when we choose (or in some ways are imposed b/c of pressures of time/lack of support/energy/resources) to remain silent online, our bodies continue to speak, we move, we write, we dialogue, we engage, and if we choose to remain silent we are speaking with ourselves, replenishing, collecting ourselves, building up…it’s all process – to speak in a way that suits us.

I wouldn’t even bother with the two men. And also, I wouldn’t even try to convince anyone to actively read the feminist blogosphere. Then again it depends how I feel. Some blog entries are so great – I e-mail them to folks that I know hate blogging. They wont’ blog after that – but we’ll probably talk about the blog entry, they’ll like what the blog author had to say, and it becomes something else. With these folks I’ll probably see often, join a book club, invite over to cook something, or bike together. It coalesces somehow.

We come to blogging because of the rich thoughtful dialogues occurring, and to contribute to discourse, to share our experience. It’s one of the mediums where there is that freedom. Simultaneously in my opinion it isn’t easy to have immediate communities where we have folks like bfp, you, alexis, ba, nadia, noemi, and we flourish politically, and we write about our experiences. I cam to blogging b/c I was a young new mom of color, and I am a political woman of color, hungry for intellectual discourse, followed by action, and where the fact that I’m a young mami of color – I’m not part of something. That’s why I gravitated to the blog world. Here is where I met mamitamala, and bfp, and other zinesters mamas like Vikki Law, China Martens, and Noemi Martinez. That in many ways gave me a fierce confidence I have now. I guess I came to blogging because I was extremely isolated as a new young political mom of color and expressed out of necessity, and I took in others experiences. And now – we’re at a different phase.

I hope I am not sounded like I’m saying this is a better road – to stop blogging. Or that – everyone will eventually grow out of blogging, or if someone is actively blogging than that means they don’t’ have active loving vibrant intellectual engaging community with women of color and other allies in their real life. But I do think – to some degree not having these communities’ plays to the fact that there is over 18 million blogs online.

Balance is key, I feel more balanced because if I tune the blog world for a week or two – I don’t feel pressured. I can go on vacation and be on vacation. Before I had to stay plugged to everything that went on. And I do think that some of my relationships in real life paid for that. I don’t think that’s a good price to pay. Now, I do open my rss feeds and open them to right away close it. Just to clean it up. To start from zero. And I’ll do that repeatedly until I want to read again.

Oh and by vacation -- I mean peace of mind, enjoying my little one, being around blood and non-blood related family, reading a good book. Not actual get out of the country and even city vacation, I am a little broke (money wise) for that.

Vacation from constant getting info and putting out info.

Laughing with others vacation. I am reminded of my mother that died of cancer when I was 16, before she went into her 17 hour surgery, in her little county hospital bed, she had a smile. She touched us, and loved us. It was lovely, and it was hard for her and all of us knowing in our hearts that the odds were against her surviving that surgery, and we loved, shared funny stories, and cried and felt each other.

And the joke my dad made out of the $200,000 mistaken medical bill that arrived to our house, after she died...through our grieving. That's what people do, we make with our pain, while we try to work for something better, enduring it, we don't forget to give to each other, touch one another, laugh and eat together.

Speaking of not blogging, I'm commenting quite a bit. Is that a sign that I must blog again? ;-)
<3>

In Solidarity

H/T to Angry Asian Man

Next Generation Voices is a new group that was established in response to the events that took place at the University of Colorado, Boulder when the student newspaper published an article entitled, "If It's a War Asians Want, It's a War They Get."

The first campaign of NGV is "In Solidarity," which encourages ALL individuals, regardless of race or ethnic background, to wear a tshirt on May 8 (take a pic and send it in) and voice your solidarity for social justice. Their website is impressive and their words are powerful, "Our story is our reason."

If you're unfamiliar with what is going on with college journalism, this is a great peak into the infuriating trends of young journalists who write articles deemed racist and offensive and then are spun as "sarcastic" and effective tools of "satire." Here's a quick summation of the article from NGV. Do you think this sounds like a tool of satire?

...[the article viewed as]...threatening with its “three-phase” plan for the organized persecution of people of Asian descent. It references starting war with “Asians,” capturing them with nets, herding and hog-tying them into captivity, and ultimately, “Americanizing” them by forcing them to eat bad sushi, play beer pong, speak only English, and replace their rice cookers with George Foreman Grills.

A whole editorial team gave that a thumbs up. These are the young folks who will be recording history and documenting the lives and perspectives of our times. These are our future journalists who didn't see any problems with publishing and distributing this manure.

Luckily, Next Generation Voices also represents the energy and ACTION in the face of hate spun as a joke; in the face of threats spun satire; in the face of weak apologies and diversity workshops. In their words:

Please visit OurSTORY to learn more about Asian-American history and why “herding Asians” is not humorous, as there are examples in our history in which this has happened. OurSTORY is OurREASON.

Lesson? The history of a people is their story and that is their reason. If you don't share or care to learn history, you will never understand the reason.

Solidarity - it's a powerful thing. It's also probably the best $12 you'll spend in May.

A Split Sister

I often write about biculturalism. I am Filipina. As a Pinay, there are not that many seekers out there looking for the same thing - truth of identity, complexity, and shifting explanations of self, home, and resistance.

Thank you, my dear Nadia, for showing me Jen Clare Garawan, who uses art to explore her Asian American identity. My sister, your work is beautiful!

Mabuhay!

Disrupting the Hypersexualized and Domestic Filipina Image

Congrats to the winners of the Wikipilipinas Filipinas Stories Contest!

In efforts to change the sexualized and docile Filipina image online generated by dating sites that perpetuate a narrow understanding of who the modern Filpina is, Filipina Images in conjunction with Wikipilipinas (a one-stop collective of everything Filipino) ran a writing contest that explored the image of the filipina and the role of bloggers in uplifting the filipina image online.

This was a very important contest for me. It's message and efforts to educate the public and alter the perception of Filipinas everywhere is invaluable.

1st prize: The Filipina Doctor: Coming Full Circle by Dr. Claire Francisco

2nd prize: The Evolving Beauty of a Modern Filipina by Eddie Oguing

3rd prize: The Cyber Feminization of Poverty: Mail-Order Brides and the Image of the Filipina by Genevieve Ruth Villamin

Mine was entitled, "BiCultural Pinay," and is located under all the entries listed to the right of the winning articles.

Mabuhay!

Resisting Top Shelf Feminism

With Sylvia’s latest and greatest post (where the most significant quote of 2008 has already surfaced: “Most of these people are wondering, ‘What the f*** is a blogosphere?’”) I have been thinking about accessibility and its relation to "real life" feminist activism.

Let’s face the truth of our lives. As you read this, we both are veiled with anonymity while we both live our supposed feminist ideals in the real world. In the real world, there are dinners that have nothing to do with the internet, friends who think online dating is weird let alone building communities and activism, and families go about their merry way with no clue that their daughter is a feminist blogger. As you read this, I am breathing somewhere else and choosing what milk to buy. As I do that, you have likely moved on from my site, gotten up from your chair and made 42 decisions off line.

The activism online is not about a wish that the online world will transform the offline world. The point of my online feminist presence is that my conscience, my awareness is heightened by other’s writings, informed by their experiences and power so when I am out buying milk, I think about the rights of migrant workers as my hands smooth over fresh produce and cartons of milk. The point is that you think twice when you meet a Filipina and assume a ten point bullet of what it means for her to be Asian and Asian American and how the two are different. The hopes of my online feminism is that the readers are affected, empowered, stimulated and in turn, that stimulation provides some sort of change in the real world – in the classroom, in the bedroom, in our relationships, at the kitchen table, at social gatherings, town hall meetings, in our thoughts.

So how accessible is feminism?

My question comes back to how accessible am I?

How accessible are my words, my ideas and plans, my language? How important is accessibility? Most important, I have found.

I think back to my own journey as a young woman, how scared and uncertain my opinions were about the world. Knowledge of the world rings different than experiencing the world and I often wonder how much more enriching my journey would have been had I known more questioning, seeking, struggling womyn of color along the way. My confidence would have longevity, I assume, my doubts a bit more curbed, perhaps.

Accessible feminism is not just about reading ability on our blogs, or how much common ground we can find together. It reaches beyond waived conference fees and essay scholarships.
If only it were that simple. Something tells me it has to do with questioning womyn who boast a title as a "professional feminist." WHAT is that? Please, enlighten me on that one.
Being accessible requires adamant loyalty to staying on the ground: inspiration without the lofty, academic jargon; self-analysis lens without self-centeredness.

I believe that accessibility is about putting in the time now in our work so it remains relevant, streamlined, and foundational for future generations. Gloria, Lorde, hooks, Maracle, M.L. de Jesus, Zia invested themselves into accessibility by centering the timeless issues of their time that would eventually be the timeless issues of our time: racism, poverty, violence, and homo/transphobia.

Their accessibility is reflected in their prophetic writing, making certain that we understand that the mountains we climb are the same mountains they faced. Their words become our food. Their lives became our bridges. These womyn marked inclusive, radical, unafraid and rocky terrain as their land. No journeys were easy. Nowhere in their works did I ever read it was going to get better or hear loose promises of peace in my lifetime. I only read the necessity to give voice to what was happening and the instruction to put to rest all that contributed to womyn’s silence.

Without accessibility, there is no translation between blogs and “real world” action. Greater accessibility must remain a consistent priority for feminists. There is always a womyn out there searching, needing, and being pushed into a corner. Always. And maybe someday she'll come looking for an everyday womyn who struggles with womynhood, with her identity, and her choices. Maybe she's looking for someone who's unafraid to admit she's very much afraid, without agenda and uncertain as hell. Maybe that's one thing that I can do because she likely won't find herself on the shelves of Barnes and Noble or ever get to a class where she will likely be misunderstood. Maybe I can help by just putting my voice out there and saying

You are not alone. Not by a long shot.

It is not so much her responsibility to find me, but more my responsibility to prepare a space so she can be heard, and live, and breathe. I do this in hopes she will unfold and do it for someone else.

That is my feminism. That is my accessibility.

Call for Women's Right on HIV/AIDS

Today is World Aids Day.

What are you doing about the crisis?

RED

DOCUMENT THE SILENCE

International Day of Action: Comm Responses to Sexual Assault

Via Firefly.


INTERNATIONAL DAY OF ACTION
For Community Responses to Sexual Assault

November 30th 2007

We are calling for people to organise in their own towns and cities to
take action on this day. This means whatever it means to you – maybe
organising in your school, occupying an office or a court or a police
station, holding a rally, making a publication, talking to people, or
anything you can think of.

The government has used sexual assault to justify the military invasion,
removal of land permits, and denial of Indigenous autonomy in the Northern
Territory. But this is not a way of dealing with sexual assault – fear,
intimidation, and military and police presence as a "solution" shows no
understanding of sexual assault or ways of dealing with it. The police
and military have been perpetrators of sexual assault in communities
around Australia, in Iraq, around the world.

The Northern Territory intervention is a racist intervention. It is
ridiculous that our white government thinks that Indigenous communities
are unable to respond to sexual assault themselves, with their own
processes and understandings, especially when we look at the way sexual
assault is dealt with across the rest of Australia, by relying on an
alienating, adversary and difficult to access legal system.

Almost no sexual assaults are reported to police, and most reported cases
result in no conviction. This is not because they are "false claims" but
because the legal system forces someone who has been assaulted to try to
"prove" their claim, doubting them, disbelieving, pressuring them to
relive their assault and undergo invasive medical examinations. Most
assault happens in private – it makes it the survivor's word against the
perpetrator's. The court system is designed so that survivors of sexual
assault are attacked and broken by defence lawyers who only want to win
their case. In the rare case that a perpetrator is convicted, prison does
nothing to confront and challenge the behaviour and underlying assumptions
and understandings that foster a culture of sexual assault.

We want a day of action calling for community – not military, not legal –
responses to sexual assault. Our government shows no interest in trying to
engage with the real issues of sexual assault and how to confront it, so
we need to do it ourselves. We are calling for support for survivors of
sexual assault, and a process of community response that prioritises their
needs and safety. We are calling for processes that try to change the
underlying myths and power dynamics that lead to assault, before it
happens. We want processes that deal with perpetrators in a way that
challenges their beliefs and behaviours, and gets them to take
responsibility for their actions and trying to change.

For more information, or to add your own:
communitiesresponsetosexualassault.wordpress.com

Email: ida_2007@graffiti.net

Simplicity Asks of Feminism

About seven years ago, I began attending a discussion group entitled, "Voluntary Simplicity," that incorporated a slim book collection of writings about simple living. I only attended a few sessions, but the energy and lessons of those thrice attended meetings lingers today.

A few months ago, the connection between feminism and simplicity began to knock around in my head. Simplicity, often confused with "going-without" and "cheap" terms, concerns itself with the center of desire, determining what is most necessary for sustainability and advancement, and then choosing that exact thing. It's about mining toward the gold - whatever that might be - and focusing on that, without frills or whistles.

The companion workbook is excellent. Several authors rouse the readers with essays on consumerism, satisfaction, human need, and fulfillment. It's spiritual in its essence, but it's anything but light. What does that have to do with feminism?

Plenty.

To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything is to succumb to violence. More than that, it is cooperation in violence. The frenzy of the activist neutralizes one’s work for peace.

The frenzy of the activist neutralizes one's work for peace. The frenzy. The activist.

I have been meditating upon these ideas, these ions of brilliance and it leaves me wondering what kind of pupil for peace I have been. As a western-born North American, everything can easily become about production. More, more more, and better, better, better. Even in our strategizing for peace and equality, it soon becomes about awarding the most profound of the profound, recognizing the great art from the art, and advancing forward in our agendas.

The frenzy of the activist neutralizes one's work for peace.

Choosing one, or a handful of commitments has stood next to impossible. Every time I read, my heart follows the author. In my mind I have been in raided factories with blood-stained walls, I have filled my mouth will soil to stifle my cries after my children were killed in front of me, I have wandered in the streests defeated by schizophrenia. How can an activist choose when there is so much that needs to be done, so many voices that need to be projected?

Then I think of my life, my one, singular solitary life in which I was given, like everyone else, only two hands, one heart, one voice. And like so many others, I am limited by circumstance, resources, and a culture of self-serving apathy regarding the poor and disenfranchised. To make up for what others do not care about, I become a promiscuous activist, wanting everything, but committing to nothing.

It's a frenzy alright. A carousel of passion, fury, pain, and exhilaration. Activism, however, should not be a carousel, it should be walk. A never-ending walk of life that adapts to the speeds and slows of my life, of who I am. The frenzy can burn you out. The frenzy can haze and distort you. What I fear the most of frenzy, is what it can take from you. It takes away hope, potential, and the exchange of ideas.

There is nothing, nothing more sacred to activism than the safe exchange of ideas and honesty.

Simplicity, as outlined by Voluntary Simplicity, questions our human need to hoard and settle. It questions our constantly gathering arms full of berries, shoes, books, lamps, and shoestrings. It wonders aloud, "What do you need?" It asks this of our spiritual, psychological, and material worlds. It prefers a choice that endures through time and mood. Little to do with price, simplicity guides the Conscience to answer to the earth, the environment, the less fortunate, our neighbors. Money, time, technology, farming are all related in our quest for contentment.

As a Feminist Simplicist or a Simplistically Feminist writer, I question my choices. I question my inability to choose. I have taken second and third glances at how many frivolous news and reports ruffle my feathers and I allow myself to be taken away once again, by the carousel. I hve chosen, on numerous occassions, to minimially understand ten issues instead of mindfully engaging in one. There has never been a time where I considered myself to truly know and be known to one thing. Why is that? Am I afraid? If I am, what of?

Last night, I attended a lecture by Vandana Shiva, a stunning author from India who has written dozens of books about the mass food production, corporate globalization, and its impact on the farmers, women, children, the poor, and all of our health. Her latest book (which I have not yet read), Manifestos on the Future of Food and Seed, is the most current tool in digging up the truth of where our food comes from, why it tastes the way that it does, and discovering who is growing our seeds. From the earth, into our mouths, Shiva delivers bone-quivering truths about the business practices of our leading nations, and the cost to our bodies.

She teaches, "To get rid of immoral laws you must creat moral laws. You must create laws of equality, law of stability. You must create laws that celebrate the eco-friendly and non-violating methods."

I listened, pondering again, simplicity, the art of choice, the expense of peace and non-violence.

"It's like Starbucks Chai Tea. 'Chai' means 'tea.' They just put words together to make it sound exotic. When you order, all you're really saying is 'Tea Tea.'"

The crowd murmurs. No doubt the Starbucks down the street will go down in profit this week.

Some other points Shiva's lecture included is to get rid of convenience; understand the real price of things; ask where the farms have gone; get rid of convenience; question why you eat seasonal vegetables year round; support local growers; get rid of convenience; eat from your community and natural regional harvest. Get rid of convenience.

Somewhere in my path as a feminist activist, confusion of identity and placement clouded my vision. How often have I let myself get swept away by cheaper things like shoes and bananas; how much more often, however, have I let myself get swept away by ideologies that I do not agree with but do not engage in debate? Who have I let grow my feminist food? Who have I taken information from? Whose agenda have I swallowed and what has it done to my body? How many times have I forgotten what I, I want to work for instead of what the world insists is important? Even among, or rather, especially among, feminist circles, how have I supported and expanded my own feminism to be more inclusive, more deliberate, and more relevant? How many times have I stepped aside instead of stepping up because of my inability to reign in my emotions? Passion and emotion are two distinct, and necessary, qualities, but allowing the latter to run free distills the potency of the former.

Frenzy, no more.

No to More.

Diploma THIS

You can always count on Reappropriate to bring up issues that are so significant and often overseen.

On the last episode of Desperate Housewives, a show I do not watch, Teri Hatcher's character made a comment that denigraded the Philippines and the integrity of medical professionals schooled and educated in the Philippines.

Never mind that the Filipino population is the second largest immigrant population in the USA. Never mind the extrememly high percentage of Filipinos in the healthcare profession.
Never mind the insinuation that Filipino educated medical professionals are second-hand and not on the same caliber as US-trained medical personnel.

I'm boiling.

I normally don't do online petitions, but this one demands an apology from ABC about the writing of this particular episode to the Filipinos and to Filipino-Americans.

AT THE LINE, SIGN HERE.

Welcome to the Carnival of Radical Action 5: Revolutionary Change

I voted for George W. Bush in the 2000 election.

(Yes, you are reading the 5th Edition of the Carnival of Radical Action.)

I voted for George W. Bush in the 2000 election because he was pro-life and my family - then - was strongly Republican and my father loves Ronald Reagen more than chicken Adobo. For a family of Filipinos, that is dedication.

I voted for George W. Bush in the 2000 election because I thought I knew what I was doing. Do many 20 year olds understand how to properly and thoroughly analyze, weigh, and discern? I watched the election praying my vote wouldn't count. That was the Florida year, as if anyone could forget.

Yes, I voted for George W. Bush 8 years ago and every time I turn on the tele, all I can think of is one thing. Change. I look at the president I helped elect in the first election and wondered how I had changed, how he had changed, what kind of change has ensued, and the level of responsibility I assume in that.

Change.

The difference between change and Revolutionary Change is its relationship to Truth. Regular change - shift in situation, alteration of state - transpires everywhere and anywhere. It occurs in the media, in our homes, in ourselves, and in our relationships. However, change becomes Revolutionary when heavy doses of honesty and past learnings are incorporated. Without truthfulness, there cannot be Revolutionary Change.

There is no clearer evidence of our need for truthfulness than in Jena, Louisiana. For those who haven't read about the Jena 6, I can offer one of the most profound voices on the internet. The most beautiful and often unsung journalistic voices are not in mainstream media, but in our roaring blogosphere. Events like Jena change us. Jena influences us and it weighs heavily in our hearts. Summing up some of the most powerful elements of Jena is M, who writes a heart-tugging guest post at Kai's pad:

"So what glimmer of understanding do I wish to impart? Very simply, the Jena Six is not a matter of guilt or innocence. If you think this case is about dancing and singing with Al Sharpton in Jena while wearing black, go home or bury some soap or something. If you view this case as a stepping stone for your own self-aggrandizement here there and everywhere, sit at home and think a few seconds before stepping back out again. If you think this case is only about freeing these young men, you're half-steppin'. If you view the Jena Six incident as uppity newcomer Negroes wanting to start some ruckus, then please go back to your guard post under your bridge. Denial about a person's criminal actions in a case is unwanted. This fight is not about what we can do to stop people from being criminals (though there's no denying that goal is important); it is about what happens when those people are already within the criminal justice system and cannot afford an OJ-style legal Dream Team."

How I wish that Jena was the only evidence of how damn slow we are to change - how slow the "justice system" works, how change takes numerous laps around the clocks and calendars before it begins to take effect - but it is not.

To implement change, one can participate in random acts of activism or contemplate more organized methods as well, but at the end of our radically truthful day, it is difficult to bear THE question of activism: What, really, are we changing? Oh yes, I am going there. Not many have the temerity to ask such a truthful question, but Little Light at Taking Steps takes it on:

"The change we want--the deep-seated social shifts that will make the world a more decent place for more people--that will echo, and grow, and move planets for our children's children's children, and maybe they will thank us. But we will not taste it. We will not cross the Jordan. And what is it we're changing?
Well. Put simply? This world is a heartbreaker."

In reflecting on those words, hard truths bubble to the surface: there are also some things that never change. They may change in face, but racism, sexism, homophobia, classism, ableism are ubiquitous. How are you supposed to move forward with that knowledge?

One way is remembering that, yes indeed, all those ills seem to never change, but neither does the power of the written/spoken word and our infinite ability to create change in ourselves and in our communities. Take notes from people who have learned how to turn a chronic disease that affected their life into RadActs. What do you do when you're diagnosed with MS? You work your mind into communicating to others that hope is not lost. And survival is so much more than just holding on the edge or life, or merely brimming, but survival of life means overflowing with insight, perspective, and hope. RevChange? RevChange.

In general, how we educate about health and dis-ease is in dire need of change. Acting White takes on how we need to change the dissemination of information so that people understand how cancer affects Black women differently. Alas provides commentary on woc being taught how to hate their bodies. Making her case about health as well, Los Anjalis pushes the health effects of subtle racism forward making us rethink the relationship between race, stress, and wellness. And don't forget that wellness includes mental health as well, which is central to keeping ReVoices alive.

How and why do we often slip into blog-nesia and forget that delving deep and coming up serious and sad and depressed and lost and hopeless and isolated and fighting and bitter is acutely dangerous? Yes, we need to piss in the oppression toilet and figure out the dark complexities of ourselves and of our world, but we can't move forward if we're on our knees all the time. Wellness should not be an option for activists of RevChange, it must be a priority.

To be Revolutionary and healthy, you must braid change in your blogdiet. Have a bit of heavy carbs (news, headliners) that wake you up to what's going on in different parts of the world
but don't forget your inspiring vitamins. Down some fruit, milk, and chocolate dipped strawberries and remember that change can and does happen. Feeling uplifted is not overrated. Take it from Xicanopwr who reports good news from New York. Or take a gander at the video on Miss Crip Chick, "Thank Goodness God Gives Republicans Gay Children." The Angry Black Woman documents some Glamour victories along the way while big changes in legislature give tremendous boosts to our activist energy banks. My all-time feel good act of radical action is coming from our youth. God love 'em. I was just about to give up pink when I read this (and the full story link) over at Gay Persons of Color.

Don't forget to drink the pure outcome of combining truth with music, humor, and artistic expression. I mean, God forbid we actually use humor - and I'm not talking about the dry sarcasm jabs at politicians - I'm talking about humor that celebrates who we are and relaxes us; reframes our activism (and ourselves) in comic light.

And where would we be without the sway of music and dance? The Latin American Princesa introduces the new album by global change artist Manu Chao. And ART! The most moving and revolutionary truth about radical action reflects nowhere more deep than in the creative neuroses patterns of our brains. Get past Van Gogh or Ansel Adams. Learn about class at Panda camp. Discover of the talents out there who pour their intellect into imaginative drawings that redefine super(s)heroes, and push the limits by visually guffawing over our governmental leadership. Stretch yourself in imagination. Forget bumper stickers as the module of the shortest delivery of meaning and think comics. This is a photo of a comic created by Mikhaela Reid, a political cartoonist. See more here.

And speaking of felines, why not check out how you can change your approach to effectively combat racism at Feline Formal Shorts? Here's a little bit from Racism 101 - What if I Screw Up?

"One of the biggest reasons people give for not wanting to engage in conversations about race is that they’re worried about doing or saying something offensive. After all, race is a fraught topic in the United States (and elsewhere, even if the issues are different), and the overwhelming impression well-intentioned but clueless people get is that any phrase can be a trap."

And speaking of anti-racist work, who better to read more about than Grace Lee Boggs over at Kai's who reflects on her autobiography, Living for Change.

Change can also bring goodbyes. Graceful exits from the blogosphere have left me pondering the life changes that occur offline. Sometimes the pauses are only temporary (thank God) and sometimes they are not, as written by a wonder woman who would like to be known simply as a WOC fugitive blogger:

"Severance"

I'm putting in my notice
my two weeks
my one day of feeling
of shallow words and
unkempt body
of hollowed eyes and
of faulty memory
today

I'm signing off and
shutting out the best
and the worst of me
but mostly the worst
that's the only reason why
the pay is meager
the hours long
the cubbies empty

I'm packing up hope
and dreams
and desires
and sympathy
and humor
and happiness
and peace
and quiet
and tenderness
and safety
and gentleness
and charm
and wit
into a collapsible box
with no handles and
automatic locks

I'm escorted away
and I'm not returning
unless I left something
behind that I didn't realize
until much later after
someone shaves my name
off the door
and steam cleans my steps
from the carpet
and combs through files
and blackens me out

I'm resigned to misgivings
to layoffs
to paycuts and additions
and unforeseen circumstances
to downsizing and
just plain signs that say
"there's no room for you"

Sometimes change brings an end, a finale. Even in her departure, Twice the Rice can still utter those trademark truths, "The only constant is change. Change is good. Change is afoot."

And sometimes,when I miss old ReVoices that have slowed their blogs, I realize they are still working for change, just in a different medium. I started wondering where Nubian is needed the most. Maybe it's the blogosphere, maybe it's in film. Then I realized that maybe it shouldn't matter just as long as women of color's voices are getting heard in the media because that kind of change is n-e-c-e-s-s-a-r-y.

Change is always afoot. Always. In our deepest spiritual selves, we have the strength to heal and embrace change, as Phoenix and Tree writes about the parallels of her own trauma with the story of Persephone. In our deepest intuitive selves, you can sense it just as Journey_Wmn so eloquently and courageously asserts in her identity as a lesbian of color:

"I really feel like a change is about to happen, like I'm finally going to reach that next level in my journey. I'm not sure where its going to take me, but I'm ready for the ride."

An aspect of my own revolutionary change is that I have always been a truthful person. I just put out there for the world to read that I, a RadRevFeminist Writer of Color, had once put a political vote for arguably the most destructive and inarticulate governmental leader in the history of the world. I don't know what could be more truthful - except the confession of how many ill-fitting bras and ripped undies I own - than that.

Instead of shaming ourselves as to who we once were or things we have done, why can't we seize the growth and shine it as from who we have grown; from who we have learned the most? Truthful questions are scarce, riding frighteningly close to a path toward extinction.

This CORA celebrates activists. CORA, on its 5th edition, celebrates you, thanks you (especially to the rock stars whose submissions I could not include). It celebrates the change that must have occured in my life between the 2000 and 2004 presidential elections. It celebrates that the greatest and most significant change in our lives is not the internet, but in the unfolding surprises of how we, as activists of radical action, respond to the lessons of our own lives.

Word.

A Step Closer

H/T to Zuky.

Moving toward

FREE-ing
THE
JENA 6.

Virtual March - Thanks to BA

FREE
THE
JENA 6.

NOW.

A Reminder for the Impending Autumn Season

Support un-chained local independant businesses!

The Quasi-Sensationalizing of the Bra: Discussing the Great Divide in Feminist Discourse

One thing that I cannot stand is an overflow of seriousness. Somber nods and monolithic talking sticks. Good lawd, get me out.

I realize that one cannot be guffawing and slapping their thighs when considering profound ideas; vision times take to understand, learning requires focus and diligence. I get it. We do need the somber nods, we need podiums (I think) but I also need to shake it.

I need a wittlebit ‘odisananddat.

Third wave feminist literature has begun to recognize this in the form of anthologies, zines, online columns, and memoirs. There’s a great variety of resources out there. Feminism, using 3rd wave literature as an example, has begun to resemble who we are as humans: complex, fragmented, stubborn, insightful, and impatient. If we ourselves are that, then our feminism will reflect that. But, I’ve also noted something else that is occurring; something that I have entitled:

The Quasi-Sensationalizing of the Bra
Discussing the Great Divide in Feminist Discourse

Let’s talk about pop culture, bras, sex, media, health and the newest awareness bracelet hue – SCORE. You’ve got a big audience. We can bitch about whatever we want, talk lust, and spit on our lawns. Yeah. We step up to take a Survey Monkey questionnaire and then step back down. It’s femini-step aerobics. We’re not really accountable to do much and it’s uber fun to talk about hot women. This is feminism, but it’s FemLite.

But, take those topics and apply it specifically to womyn of color, transnational feminism, third world womyn, transgender and queer feminism, and you will hear the squeak of the FEMINIST SURRENDER flag pulley its way up the liberation pole. These issues are too often regarded as FemPlex (feministically-complex).

It’s usually met with

Taste Overload.

Can’t process that.

Way too serious and deep and sad and terrifying and global and systematic for me.

Give me a break.

We gotta find the ‘tween of the nailpolish approach and the weekend cabin retreat mode. Know what I'm sayin'? Too many young fems are learning that it’s ok to be sexually responsible, but those other womyn? Over ‘there’ in developing nations? Well, they are are just S.O.L. when it comes to contraception. And that’s too much, too serious to think about anyway.

Is it too serious?

These problems do, indeed, have serious ramifications, but for those that exist in femtopias, remember that our sovereignties are only as strong as the dialogues we create. The larger the divot, the more avoidable the issue becomes. Systematic oppression, the non-existant safe places for WOC, debates on sex worker rights, racism, welfare, government, and the like are labeled The Serious, “heady,” “complicated,” “depressing” and young fems learn to skitter away like marbles on a cracked linoleum floor. For that which we do not confront, we fail one young womyn in this world. Read: I’m not knocking scholars [entirely] or am hallucinating that a stag comic show will bring a revolution. Neither am I downplaying the work activists do with FemLite, but there is an undeniable trend of lobbing off The Serious and then stuffing them into the towers, which is, seriously, the LAST place where it should be. Leaving the heavy, critical work for scholars not only lazy, but it enables the curbing of actualization and accountability of everyday citizens.

This erred placement of discourse could be labeled as the worst mishandled file ever. The academy is great, but it’s not the tent of the circus. Scholars are often the flying trapeze performers – the lofty ones up in the air who generate lots of ooohhhss and aahhhs. Awesome, but this also generates a sense of separatism and further disconnect. Most people cannot and do not want to be the trapeze fliers. Formal degrees are just one avenue and it's not always the best option or AN option for most womyn, especially WOC. The tent – what holds up through the storms and houses all the activity inside - of the feminist circus is the grassroots activists, the common womyn, the passionate curiosity that dwells in each of us who just love the circus and want to join.

The wonderful thing about FemPlex is that it doesn’t have to be limited to academic spheres, privileged people who get their own conferences, or barefoot liberals with a comma and letters after their name.

::claps::

Let’s play another game! (No,it’s not Let’s Justify the Racism, although that is one of my faves.) It’s the Feminist Idol contest.

Who’s your favorite femme?

Maria Eddy! Maria Eddy!

Maria Eddy?

YES! She’s the ohsofab theorist who is working on her next book using leaves and tree sap to collate the pages.

Really?

Yeah! And, she’s taking speaking this evening at the Cherry Blossom cafe.

Eddy, mhm. Is that her last name?

No, it’s Maria, Ed.D.

I once had a mentor who said the greatest theologians are the ones who analyze the presence of God in their own lives. The most transformative feminist philosophizing, art, and expression can and must be done from the simplicity of our lives. No tricks, twirling bats, or elephants needed. Ever think about supporting a woman photographer for a big event? Ever want to support local women artists? Have you tried to Google and find the author who wrote that non-best seller that moved your heart and send them a thank you? Radical listening, ever try it?Have you walked across the street to talk to a neighbor?

Today, it is entirely radical to build community. To be able to tear another person away from a screen, off their couch, for a walk, or spend time discussing ideas, background, and the evolution of friendship is not costly, only infrequent. Radical feminism is not solely about the agenda on the Hill, lobbying, research, and writing articles for progressive magazines. The root of our lives is in our families, in our communities, our front windows, where the germs of oppression, racism, sexism, and homophobia exist and breed. We need people that can translate the big wig theories and texts into a practical, joyful, human connection. We need seriousness, but we also need hope and we are in a drought of accountability.


To be a feminist, you must be brave. More brave than you would ever want to be or imagine.

What would happen if we could step beyond our crippling “seriousness?” What if we could, instead, understand the severity and the devastating oppressive nations we live in and then work to resolve with a dedication that stands on the crutches of passion, flexibility, creativity, mentoring, and heaven forbid – humor?

Point is, join the circus, not the towers.