Sorry I haven't been writing much lately...
I've been extremely busy, and most of my writing has gone towards press releases, organizing emails, etc...
But click here to see videos of the most recent press conference!
And also...
I am coming to the Bay 12/1! That's less than two weeks away!
So I will see most of you soon, at which point I can update you in person!
November 21, 2007
October 13, 2007
GUPS Palestinian Cultural Mural Inauguration
San Francisco State University's General Union of Palestine Students bring you...
Palestinian Mural Banner
Palestinian Cultural Mural
Honoring Dr. Edward Said
Inauguration November 2, 2007
10:30am Complimentary Brunch featuring Georges Lammam, violinist, Jack Adams Hall
12 pm Mural Inauguration Ceremony, North Plaza
featuring: Native American Dancers, Al-Juthoor Debka Troupe, poetry by Dina Omar, Professor of History from Birzeit University Sonia Nimr, Professor of Near Eastern and Ethnic Studies at UC Berkeley Hatem Bazian, Arab American hip-hop, and live classical Arabic Oud Instramental
2 pm Reception, Jack Adams Hall featuring Georges Lammam Ensemble
6 pm Social Hour, Knuth Hall Creative Arts Building
7 pm We Speak For Ourselves: Arab Voices, Knuth Hall Creative Arts Building
with Elmaz Abinader, Tony Khalifa, Fady Joudah, Deema Shehabi, Omar Khorsheed and Zaid Shlah
$10 for students - $20 non-students • Presale available, call ACCC for ticket purchases at (415) 664-2200 x15 • No one turned away for lack of funds
Palestinian Mural Banner
Palestinian Cultural Mural
Honoring Dr. Edward Said
Inauguration November 2, 2007
10:30am Complimentary Brunch featuring Georges Lammam, violinist, Jack Adams Hall
12 pm Mural Inauguration Ceremony, North Plaza
featuring: Native American Dancers, Al-Juthoor Debka Troupe, poetry by Dina Omar, Professor of History from Birzeit University Sonia Nimr, Professor of Near Eastern and Ethnic Studies at UC Berkeley Hatem Bazian, Arab American hip-hop, and live classical Arabic Oud Instramental
2 pm Reception, Jack Adams Hall featuring Georges Lammam Ensemble
6 pm Social Hour, Knuth Hall Creative Arts Building
7 pm We Speak For Ourselves: Arab Voices, Knuth Hall Creative Arts Building
with Elmaz Abinader, Tony Khalifa, Fady Joudah, Deema Shehabi, Omar Khorsheed and Zaid Shlah
$10 for students - $20 non-students • Presale available, call ACCC for ticket purchases at (415) 664-2200 x15 • No one turned away for lack of funds
October 11, 2007
a semi-short fable about foundation funding. and the things we have to do to get it.
Today, I became a human slapstick metaphor for the fact that the revolution will NOT, in fact, be funded.
Yes, I am re-reading that book, including the essays I never read in the first place because they were too academic for college-student-me to handle in addition to my already large load of academic reading.
(The same book, which, by the way, fairly obviously deserves credit for inspiring the title of my blog)
So today:
I had to deliver a grant proposal to some foundation in another neighborhood in brooklyn (for those of you who are not NYers- Brooklyn is BIG. not small. its only small compared to Manhattan. its actually one of the biggest cities in the world (i'm not sure how many biggest cities there are, i just know bk is one of em).
So, I'm hand delivering the proposal, because it wasn't finished until the absolute deadline.
Also today- it was POURING rain. Think San Francisco winter-style pouring rain, but with a LOT more wind, so that umbrellas not only become useless because the rain is coming at you sideways from various directions, they also flip over so you have to get one arm completely soaked holding the umbrella in its umrella position.
So there's me...walking to the subway under my umbrella (okay and now i'm sure i've put that catchy rihanna song in all of your heads) with the grant proposal in my bag, ironically resting next to my book- the revolution will not be funded. and i am ironically excited that this unusual task of hand delivering a grant proposal means that i get to get out of the office for a second and even get to read my book on the subway! at this point, it's raining more of a San Francisco late-fall style (i.e. less) with less wind. I get on the subway. I read about the problematic aspects of foundations.
I get out of the subway. Still raining. Still not yet pouring. I walk to the address of the foundation. I arrive. Hmm...no foundation! Where is it? In its place is a HUGE dug-out hole in the ground which looks like it's going to be the foundation for a building (not the right kind of foundation to deliver grant proposals to)- There are all these bright blue thin wood walls semi-attached to the ground around this giant hole. With some big sign about development.
I start to think maybe this is some kind of symbolic dream. But it isn't
I go to the nearby store and ask them where #352 is. "It's gone. They tore it down." I ask if they know where the foundation went. They do, but they lost the paper they had it written down on. I call my office and they look it up on the internet (apparently no thought to do this beforehand?) and tell me where to go. It's an 18 minute walk, but the rain is temporarily lighter and the walk will be quicker than walking to the subway, waiting for the subway, and then walking from the subway to the place. They suggest that I walk. I agree to walk.
The light rain= totally an illusion. Within minutes, it is POURING. I am drenched. I run beneath the small tent cover of a food stand in a park and ask them for a plastic bag (so I can put the proposal in it and it won't get completely soaked)- they give me the plastic bag, and I reflect on the fact that this interaction, running for shelter from the rain and asking for what I needed, and recieving it just because people are occasionally nice, was much much much more human than the larger interaction that was taking place between my organization (not to mention my self) and this foundation.
I keep walking. About a block later, my umbrella (which is not actually mine, but someone else's from my office...shhh) flips completely upside down. The rain starts coming at me like someone might as well be pointing a large amount of hoses at me, totally horizontally, directly in front of me, as well as vertically, from up above. Soon the puddles that form on the ground mean it's basically coming from below as well- and in NY, that is GROSS because this city has a lotta grit on the ground.
At this point- specifically, the moment the umbrella flips over- I start laughing out loud. I'm sure I looked crazy because people in NY do NOT laugh out loud when they're alone. But I couldn't help it. I had spent the last couple nights up late reading about how much non-profits bend over backwards and waste their time and compromise themselves to get foundation funding and then here I am, walking down the street in the pouring rain, 18 minutes (but actually longer b/c of the rain and lack of accurate directions) from the wrong location to the right location, my umbrella flipping over, my clothes and my bag completely soaking wet with only the grant proposal protected from the rain because the plastic bag is too small for me to put ALL my stuff in, my directions in my hand and falling apart because the paper is so wet, all for the sake of this grant.
And it's a weird 18 minutes too because the foundation turns out to be located almost directly under a bunch of bridges. totally totally surreal. again, for the sf parallel- imagine the soma district under about three bridges- and of course pouring rain. and a really loud subway underground that doesn't seem to have any entrances or exits anywhere nearby.
Finally, I get there. At this point, my pants are extremely heavy because they are soaked in water and grit from the brooklyn sidewalks and streets. I find it- I go in, afraid they are going to turn me away from the building and I'll never get the the office I need to go to, but they don't. They let me in, dripping wet, and a mess. I take the elevator. Knock on the door. "I'm here to deliver a grant proposal." They take it. They do not acknowledge that I am soaking wet. They do not acknowledge much at all. They also don't seem to be in any sort of rush, or bombarded with proposals, so I wonder about this supposed deadline...
I leave. Going to the subway, I'm no longer laughing because I'm too tired. My shoes are soaked through and I can feel the water on my toes, so I give up on jumping over puddles and just walk through them. On the subway I notice that the water has my hat sticking to my head so I take it off. Of course I end up forgetting my hat on the subway. I go into my office. And still no acknowledgement. Now I KNOW I am soaking wet- I know that I am literally dripping and my sneakers are squeaking LOUD. Their question "So did you get it there?"
Deep breaths, self. Deep breaths.
"Yes, but I lost my hat in the process and I'm literally soaking wet."
The development director apologizes profusely of course.
I look expectantly at my ED until she says I can go home. I mean seriously, she HAD to at least let me go home and change- but it took so long to deliver the proposal that I'd only have been able to come back for about 15 minutes before leaving again. Of course she still got to feel very benevolent about letting me go home an hour early.
How sweet.
And that, my friends, is the story of how I became a walking slapstick style metaphor (I wish I could capture on film that moment where my umbrella first flipped upside down and I hovered around the grant proposal and its plastic bag making sure IT didn't get wet, regardless of how wet I was getting)for the absurd measures non-profits go to get foundation funding, the ineffectiveness of these measures, the extreme amount of energy they drain us of, and the fact that the revolution will NOT, in fact, be funded.
The end.
Yes, I am re-reading that book, including the essays I never read in the first place because they were too academic for college-student-me to handle in addition to my already large load of academic reading.
(The same book, which, by the way, fairly obviously deserves credit for inspiring the title of my blog)
So today:
I had to deliver a grant proposal to some foundation in another neighborhood in brooklyn (for those of you who are not NYers- Brooklyn is BIG. not small. its only small compared to Manhattan. its actually one of the biggest cities in the world (i'm not sure how many biggest cities there are, i just know bk is one of em).
So, I'm hand delivering the proposal, because it wasn't finished until the absolute deadline.
Also today- it was POURING rain. Think San Francisco winter-style pouring rain, but with a LOT more wind, so that umbrellas not only become useless because the rain is coming at you sideways from various directions, they also flip over so you have to get one arm completely soaked holding the umbrella in its umrella position.
So there's me...walking to the subway under my umbrella (okay and now i'm sure i've put that catchy rihanna song in all of your heads) with the grant proposal in my bag, ironically resting next to my book- the revolution will not be funded. and i am ironically excited that this unusual task of hand delivering a grant proposal means that i get to get out of the office for a second and even get to read my book on the subway! at this point, it's raining more of a San Francisco late-fall style (i.e. less) with less wind. I get on the subway. I read about the problematic aspects of foundations.
I get out of the subway. Still raining. Still not yet pouring. I walk to the address of the foundation. I arrive. Hmm...no foundation! Where is it? In its place is a HUGE dug-out hole in the ground which looks like it's going to be the foundation for a building (not the right kind of foundation to deliver grant proposals to)- There are all these bright blue thin wood walls semi-attached to the ground around this giant hole. With some big sign about development.
I start to think maybe this is some kind of symbolic dream. But it isn't
I go to the nearby store and ask them where #352 is. "It's gone. They tore it down." I ask if they know where the foundation went. They do, but they lost the paper they had it written down on. I call my office and they look it up on the internet (apparently no thought to do this beforehand?) and tell me where to go. It's an 18 minute walk, but the rain is temporarily lighter and the walk will be quicker than walking to the subway, waiting for the subway, and then walking from the subway to the place. They suggest that I walk. I agree to walk.
The light rain= totally an illusion. Within minutes, it is POURING. I am drenched. I run beneath the small tent cover of a food stand in a park and ask them for a plastic bag (so I can put the proposal in it and it won't get completely soaked)- they give me the plastic bag, and I reflect on the fact that this interaction, running for shelter from the rain and asking for what I needed, and recieving it just because people are occasionally nice, was much much much more human than the larger interaction that was taking place between my organization (not to mention my self) and this foundation.
I keep walking. About a block later, my umbrella (which is not actually mine, but someone else's from my office...shhh) flips completely upside down. The rain starts coming at me like someone might as well be pointing a large amount of hoses at me, totally horizontally, directly in front of me, as well as vertically, from up above. Soon the puddles that form on the ground mean it's basically coming from below as well- and in NY, that is GROSS because this city has a lotta grit on the ground.
At this point- specifically, the moment the umbrella flips over- I start laughing out loud. I'm sure I looked crazy because people in NY do NOT laugh out loud when they're alone. But I couldn't help it. I had spent the last couple nights up late reading about how much non-profits bend over backwards and waste their time and compromise themselves to get foundation funding and then here I am, walking down the street in the pouring rain, 18 minutes (but actually longer b/c of the rain and lack of accurate directions) from the wrong location to the right location, my umbrella flipping over, my clothes and my bag completely soaking wet with only the grant proposal protected from the rain because the plastic bag is too small for me to put ALL my stuff in, my directions in my hand and falling apart because the paper is so wet, all for the sake of this grant.
And it's a weird 18 minutes too because the foundation turns out to be located almost directly under a bunch of bridges. totally totally surreal. again, for the sf parallel- imagine the soma district under about three bridges- and of course pouring rain. and a really loud subway underground that doesn't seem to have any entrances or exits anywhere nearby.
Finally, I get there. At this point, my pants are extremely heavy because they are soaked in water and grit from the brooklyn sidewalks and streets. I find it- I go in, afraid they are going to turn me away from the building and I'll never get the the office I need to go to, but they don't. They let me in, dripping wet, and a mess. I take the elevator. Knock on the door. "I'm here to deliver a grant proposal." They take it. They do not acknowledge that I am soaking wet. They do not acknowledge much at all. They also don't seem to be in any sort of rush, or bombarded with proposals, so I wonder about this supposed deadline...
I leave. Going to the subway, I'm no longer laughing because I'm too tired. My shoes are soaked through and I can feel the water on my toes, so I give up on jumping over puddles and just walk through them. On the subway I notice that the water has my hat sticking to my head so I take it off. Of course I end up forgetting my hat on the subway. I go into my office. And still no acknowledgement. Now I KNOW I am soaking wet- I know that I am literally dripping and my sneakers are squeaking LOUD. Their question "So did you get it there?"
Deep breaths, self. Deep breaths.
"Yes, but I lost my hat in the process and I'm literally soaking wet."
The development director apologizes profusely of course.
I look expectantly at my ED until she says I can go home. I mean seriously, she HAD to at least let me go home and change- but it took so long to deliver the proposal that I'd only have been able to come back for about 15 minutes before leaving again. Of course she still got to feel very benevolent about letting me go home an hour early.
How sweet.
And that, my friends, is the story of how I became a walking slapstick style metaphor (I wish I could capture on film that moment where my umbrella first flipped upside down and I hovered around the grant proposal and its plastic bag making sure IT didn't get wet, regardless of how wet I was getting)for the absurd measures non-profits go to get foundation funding, the ineffectiveness of these measures, the extreme amount of energy they drain us of, and the fact that the revolution will NOT, in fact, be funded.
The end.
September 29, 2007
blogging against racism
note of warning: i have terrible cramps today (yup, i'm broadcasting that on the internet!) and took a heavy duty painkiller. so this post will either be overly verbose (although that wouldn't be so different than my regular posts), overly hopeful (THAT would definitely be different than my regular posts), or just a little confusing.
that said...
similar to the world of real-life and real-people, i am finding that the world of blogs and bloggers is much bigger than i realized. It is more complicated than I knew and it has so much possibility and potential! although also similar to my experience in the real world, i feel like i'm not really sure how to tap in and connect to all that possibility.
i googled "white women, women of Color, anti-violence movement, accountability" and about six other variations on that, looking for articles and advice on how to deal with some of what's going on at my organization- trying to figure out how to use the privileges i have in order to work towards change in some way, even if that way is just internally within my own organization...
i keep rushing home after these incidents and flipping through "the color of violence" (incite) or "conquest" (andrea smith) or even "sister outsider" (audre lorde)- looking for answers.
and in those books and essays and insights, i find comparable stories and reassurance that i am not "over-reacting" or being too critical, because other people have also found these things to be problems.
but i don't really want to be reassured. because all the reassurance really points to is that the problems at my organizations are BIG problems that have been around for along time and that are ingrained in many aspects and parts of the "anti-violence" movement. so while i personally get to feel slightly validated and less "crazy-angry-bitchy" for complaining about this stuff, it's actually more depressing.
also in the past week or so, i've also been flipping through "uprooting racism," by paul kivel. it's basically a tutorial for white people on how to be anti-racist allies. it's got a lot of really good stuff (although it bothers me that at the end when he talks about the specifics of being allies to specific races and cultures, he doesn't have a section about Arabs or Arab-americans, because he's jewish, and i feel like jews have a particular responsibility to Arabs and Arab-americans...but that would be a whole other blog post so i wontt elaborate on that right now) - it goes from pretty basic definitions of racism and explanations of how racism and white supremacy work, to analyses of typical responses/defense mechanisms white people have to talking about racism and why those aren't valid, to some really good detail on the questions white anti-racists should be asking ourselves about how racism plays out in our communities.
what i've been wanting to read is "uprooting racism" specifically for white women working within the "anti-violence" movement. (my boss is one of the people who is making the necessity of a book like this feel very clear to me right now- when i call her out, she is generally pretty receptive- not always, but often- but she NEVER seems to see this stuff for herself. like she's pretty blind to incidents of racism...and to her own racism...but she does think it's a problem if someone else points it out). what paul kivel does, is he explores what white people need to actually DO to be accountable to communities of Color. reading books and essays is a part of that, but there's more, and he talks about that. the thing is that it's "general," and what "general" means in mainstream society is straight-white-male. and that's fine (well that's not fine but i mean that the book is addressed to that audience is fine) because it's really important that straight white males, and others who just know how to read books that are unspokenly written for a straight white male audience (which most of us do because we kind of have to in order to read most things), read and explore these issues. but what about those of us who aren't straight white males? there are more issues that are specific to the "feminist communities," "queer communities," and "anti-violence communities" that we need to explore, in the same way paul kivel explores those issues from a straight male perspective. And by the way, all those "communities" are in quotation marks intentionally. Just to point that out.
Anyway I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be a white anti-racist ally specifically within the anti-violence movement. I've also been reflecting on the fact that as far as I can find, nobody seems to have written about that specifically. Please correct me if I'm wrong. But it seems like there's a lot of work to be done in that area...i feel like we need to go beyond reading Incite's books and lending them to all our white friends, family, and co-workers (although that seems to work well as a first step). we need to identify how we can really be allies to women of color, how we can challenge our white co-workers, friends, and family to expand their analysis of "violence against women" to include women of Color (and i really mean HOW we can challenge them- because i think a lot of us know we should challenge them, but the way we do this has a lot to do with how it ultimately plays out and whether or not we are successful), how we can continue to challenge ourselves, how we can make sure we are accountable as allies, ...and more. so, where IS this book?
and thus we return to my original statement about the blogging world...
as far as i can tell, this "book," is on the internet, in a not-at-all-connected series of blogs, blog "comments," etc, written by white feminists who momentarily consider that the racism within the "anti-violence movement" is a problem. most of these bloggers seem to write one posting, which is followed by about a month long discussion, and then forget they had that moment of clarity...but still, it's there, instead of in print.
in addition, a lot of these white feminist bloggers who are momentarily struck with the fucked-up-reality of racism then proceed to read blogs by women of color to gain insight into their own racism, without having to read (okay maybe this is projecting but i don't think so) highly academic articles and essays. it's like a big conversation on racism (complete with white people then thinking it's their place to comment on the women of Color blogs and ask women of color bloggers to give them all the answers OR to argue with women of Color bloggers on what it means to be their allies...) happening over lots of time, on the internet.
and i'm totally excited to explore the possibilities of this world!
and i also don't really get how.
how do multi-author blogs work? how does one become a member of these online blog communities? is there a difference between multi-author blogs and those other things where a bunch of bloggers with different blogger-names seem to post...? in other words...HUH? The techy part of this is leaving me baffled but the political part of it is really intriguing...
so, in the spirit of blogging, i welcome comments on all of this.
alright, this is definitely just a little piece of a long-term conversation. within myself, with friends, and on the internet. and it's a little piece written, like i said, on heavy-duty painkillers, so it may not even make sense. but i wanted to get some of these thoughts out there in some way, because they're kind of pounding on my head telling me to let them out into the world.
and now i will go read more blogs...
that said...
similar to the world of real-life and real-people, i am finding that the world of blogs and bloggers is much bigger than i realized. It is more complicated than I knew and it has so much possibility and potential! although also similar to my experience in the real world, i feel like i'm not really sure how to tap in and connect to all that possibility.
i googled "white women, women of Color, anti-violence movement, accountability" and about six other variations on that, looking for articles and advice on how to deal with some of what's going on at my organization- trying to figure out how to use the privileges i have in order to work towards change in some way, even if that way is just internally within my own organization...
i keep rushing home after these incidents and flipping through "the color of violence" (incite) or "conquest" (andrea smith) or even "sister outsider" (audre lorde)- looking for answers.
and in those books and essays and insights, i find comparable stories and reassurance that i am not "over-reacting" or being too critical, because other people have also found these things to be problems.
but i don't really want to be reassured. because all the reassurance really points to is that the problems at my organizations are BIG problems that have been around for along time and that are ingrained in many aspects and parts of the "anti-violence" movement. so while i personally get to feel slightly validated and less "crazy-angry-bitchy" for complaining about this stuff, it's actually more depressing.
also in the past week or so, i've also been flipping through "uprooting racism," by paul kivel. it's basically a tutorial for white people on how to be anti-racist allies. it's got a lot of really good stuff (although it bothers me that at the end when he talks about the specifics of being allies to specific races and cultures, he doesn't have a section about Arabs or Arab-americans, because he's jewish, and i feel like jews have a particular responsibility to Arabs and Arab-americans...but that would be a whole other blog post so i wontt elaborate on that right now) - it goes from pretty basic definitions of racism and explanations of how racism and white supremacy work, to analyses of typical responses/defense mechanisms white people have to talking about racism and why those aren't valid, to some really good detail on the questions white anti-racists should be asking ourselves about how racism plays out in our communities.
what i've been wanting to read is "uprooting racism" specifically for white women working within the "anti-violence" movement. (my boss is one of the people who is making the necessity of a book like this feel very clear to me right now- when i call her out, she is generally pretty receptive- not always, but often- but she NEVER seems to see this stuff for herself. like she's pretty blind to incidents of racism...and to her own racism...but she does think it's a problem if someone else points it out). what paul kivel does, is he explores what white people need to actually DO to be accountable to communities of Color. reading books and essays is a part of that, but there's more, and he talks about that. the thing is that it's "general," and what "general" means in mainstream society is straight-white-male. and that's fine (well that's not fine but i mean that the book is addressed to that audience is fine) because it's really important that straight white males, and others who just know how to read books that are unspokenly written for a straight white male audience (which most of us do because we kind of have to in order to read most things), read and explore these issues. but what about those of us who aren't straight white males? there are more issues that are specific to the "feminist communities," "queer communities," and "anti-violence communities" that we need to explore, in the same way paul kivel explores those issues from a straight male perspective. And by the way, all those "communities" are in quotation marks intentionally. Just to point that out.
Anyway I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be a white anti-racist ally specifically within the anti-violence movement. I've also been reflecting on the fact that as far as I can find, nobody seems to have written about that specifically. Please correct me if I'm wrong. But it seems like there's a lot of work to be done in that area...i feel like we need to go beyond reading Incite's books and lending them to all our white friends, family, and co-workers (although that seems to work well as a first step). we need to identify how we can really be allies to women of color, how we can challenge our white co-workers, friends, and family to expand their analysis of "violence against women" to include women of Color (and i really mean HOW we can challenge them- because i think a lot of us know we should challenge them, but the way we do this has a lot to do with how it ultimately plays out and whether or not we are successful), how we can continue to challenge ourselves, how we can make sure we are accountable as allies, ...and more. so, where IS this book?
and thus we return to my original statement about the blogging world...
as far as i can tell, this "book," is on the internet, in a not-at-all-connected series of blogs, blog "comments," etc, written by white feminists who momentarily consider that the racism within the "anti-violence movement" is a problem. most of these bloggers seem to write one posting, which is followed by about a month long discussion, and then forget they had that moment of clarity...but still, it's there, instead of in print.
in addition, a lot of these white feminist bloggers who are momentarily struck with the fucked-up-reality of racism then proceed to read blogs by women of color to gain insight into their own racism, without having to read (okay maybe this is projecting but i don't think so) highly academic articles and essays. it's like a big conversation on racism (complete with white people then thinking it's their place to comment on the women of Color blogs and ask women of color bloggers to give them all the answers OR to argue with women of Color bloggers on what it means to be their allies...) happening over lots of time, on the internet.
and i'm totally excited to explore the possibilities of this world!
and i also don't really get how.
how do multi-author blogs work? how does one become a member of these online blog communities? is there a difference between multi-author blogs and those other things where a bunch of bloggers with different blogger-names seem to post...? in other words...HUH? The techy part of this is leaving me baffled but the political part of it is really intriguing...
so, in the spirit of blogging, i welcome comments on all of this.
alright, this is definitely just a little piece of a long-term conversation. within myself, with friends, and on the internet. and it's a little piece written, like i said, on heavy-duty painkillers, so it may not even make sense. but i wanted to get some of these thoughts out there in some way, because they're kind of pounding on my head telling me to let them out into the world.
and now i will go read more blogs...
September 21, 2007
"anti-violence"? anti what kind of violence?
so i don't even know who reads this, but if you're reading, i really welcome thoughts on this one...seriously...add a comment or drop an email...
today at work, a woman called about classes- not much of a surprise, since registering students for classes is a large part of the work that i do during the day. the difference was, this woman only spoke spanish. i was able to have an initial conversation with her- and i told her a little about our classes and also told her- reluctantly but i wasn't going to mislead her- that we don't currently have any spanish teachers but that we might in the future. that's a big "might." but...i couldn't bring myself to say it without that. i guess that part was misleading. but you know when sometimes you know what you're "supposed" to say and you just can't make your mouth make the words happen? Yea...
Anyway, I asked if I could take her number and call her later- or have someone who spoke better spanish call her later. This was when she said something I didn't understand...I understood some words...words like "abuso domestica"...and that she couldn't give me her phone number. So I could guess. But I didn't really know. After a few minutes of struggling to understand each other we both apologized (though she obviously had nothing to apologize for!) and hung up the phone.
Afterwards, I immediately blamed myself- why did I not know those words? why did i not think to ask her to say the same thing in different words? i could have said that...why did i not think to ask for an email address or another way to contact her or ask her to call back at a specific time...?
Then, after some help from a certain person on gchat (thank you) I realized more and more that while yes, I may have made a mistake, the ultimate mistake wasn't mine- it was my organization's.
And the thing is, it's not the first time this has come up. There was another time a social worker called asking if we had classes in spanish and i heard T (the e.d.) tell the intern (who had picked up the phone) "just tell her no." The woman in my self defense class who only spoke spanish was advised to bring a friend with her who could translate. Seriously. She had to find her own translater if she wanted to take the class. And then this. And this woman's sentence is still haunting me. I didn't even have any resources to give her. T said, "well aren't there resources on the website?" at which point i assumed there were, and figured again, my fault. no. there aren't. T at least supported my idea that we get them together. A, the old
executive director and current progam director didn't even support that. "Well if they're calling here they're probably looking for self defense and there just aren't any resources for that." As I kept pushing the issue, she kept repeating that claim. Like it wasn't a crisis. Like I couldn't hear that specific quality to a woman's voice, that specific energy that comes through the phone lines, like I didn't know what I was talking about. And more importantly, like it didn't matter.
If I hadn't already told them I was going to leave, I think I would have done it then and there. It was very declarative: we teach self defense classes. we are not about healing, we are not about empowering, when it comes down to it it's self defense. IF you can speak english If not, good luck out there in the world. We got the skills, we just don't wanna bother sharing em with you. FUCK. (Am I allowed to write that on a blog or is this thing censored?)
I'm not sure where to go from here. I brought it up immediately...then I went to lunch...came back...there was a heavy awkwardness in the office the rest of the day, especially around A and me. I lost respect for her. I think she knows that. I hope she knows that.
And I know that the anti-violence movement is not exactly known for its anti-racist tendencies...I know this shit is common. But it feels different to experience it firsthand. It feels different to have to be the one to tell someone that the services you offer can't be offered to them because they don't speak english.
I don't know why this moment is ripping me apart- I think it's because I could really feel in that moment my lack of ability to help- and when I placed it in a context, it isn't just me, but something a lot bigger. Something I know happens often. This idea that "violence against women" means violence against white women. That racism is not something we need to deal with because that's not our issue. And then, now, that tendency to put "anti-racist" in our mission statement and not follow up with it. I know, because I saw the document, that we claimed in a request for funding that since 9/11 we have been doing workshops for free for Arab organizations because of the violence those communities faced. NOT TRUE. They did one workshop for one organization years ago...now in 2007, when I was sending out our outreach materials, that organization was no longer even on the list to receive our information. I had to add them. And they called the NEXT DAY to request a workshop. So it's obviously not for lack of interest.
...Anyway the part I want advice on is the first part of this blog....I know it's not articulate as I usually am. Not poetic or pretty at all. I just needed to get this all down and out there...and to figure out what to do. Plus, I'm halfway through a glass of whiskey.
Thanks for reading.
today at work, a woman called about classes- not much of a surprise, since registering students for classes is a large part of the work that i do during the day. the difference was, this woman only spoke spanish. i was able to have an initial conversation with her- and i told her a little about our classes and also told her- reluctantly but i wasn't going to mislead her- that we don't currently have any spanish teachers but that we might in the future. that's a big "might." but...i couldn't bring myself to say it without that. i guess that part was misleading. but you know when sometimes you know what you're "supposed" to say and you just can't make your mouth make the words happen? Yea...
Anyway, I asked if I could take her number and call her later- or have someone who spoke better spanish call her later. This was when she said something I didn't understand...I understood some words...words like "abuso domestica"...and that she couldn't give me her phone number. So I could guess. But I didn't really know. After a few minutes of struggling to understand each other we both apologized (though she obviously had nothing to apologize for!) and hung up the phone.
Afterwards, I immediately blamed myself- why did I not know those words? why did i not think to ask her to say the same thing in different words? i could have said that...why did i not think to ask for an email address or another way to contact her or ask her to call back at a specific time...?
Then, after some help from a certain person on gchat (thank you) I realized more and more that while yes, I may have made a mistake, the ultimate mistake wasn't mine- it was my organization's.
And the thing is, it's not the first time this has come up. There was another time a social worker called asking if we had classes in spanish and i heard T (the e.d.) tell the intern (who had picked up the phone) "just tell her no." The woman in my self defense class who only spoke spanish was advised to bring a friend with her who could translate. Seriously. She had to find her own translater if she wanted to take the class. And then this. And this woman's sentence is still haunting me. I didn't even have any resources to give her. T said, "well aren't there resources on the website?" at which point i assumed there were, and figured again, my fault. no. there aren't. T at least supported my idea that we get them together. A, the old
executive director and current progam director didn't even support that. "Well if they're calling here they're probably looking for self defense and there just aren't any resources for that." As I kept pushing the issue, she kept repeating that claim. Like it wasn't a crisis. Like I couldn't hear that specific quality to a woman's voice, that specific energy that comes through the phone lines, like I didn't know what I was talking about. And more importantly, like it didn't matter.
If I hadn't already told them I was going to leave, I think I would have done it then and there. It was very declarative: we teach self defense classes. we are not about healing, we are not about empowering, when it comes down to it it's self defense. IF you can speak english If not, good luck out there in the world. We got the skills, we just don't wanna bother sharing em with you. FUCK. (Am I allowed to write that on a blog or is this thing censored?)
I'm not sure where to go from here. I brought it up immediately...then I went to lunch...came back...there was a heavy awkwardness in the office the rest of the day, especially around A and me. I lost respect for her. I think she knows that. I hope she knows that.
And I know that the anti-violence movement is not exactly known for its anti-racist tendencies...I know this shit is common. But it feels different to experience it firsthand. It feels different to have to be the one to tell someone that the services you offer can't be offered to them because they don't speak english.
I don't know why this moment is ripping me apart- I think it's because I could really feel in that moment my lack of ability to help- and when I placed it in a context, it isn't just me, but something a lot bigger. Something I know happens often. This idea that "violence against women" means violence against white women. That racism is not something we need to deal with because that's not our issue. And then, now, that tendency to put "anti-racist" in our mission statement and not follow up with it. I know, because I saw the document, that we claimed in a request for funding that since 9/11 we have been doing workshops for free for Arab organizations because of the violence those communities faced. NOT TRUE. They did one workshop for one organization years ago...now in 2007, when I was sending out our outreach materials, that organization was no longer even on the list to receive our information. I had to add them. And they called the NEXT DAY to request a workshop. So it's obviously not for lack of interest.
...Anyway the part I want advice on is the first part of this blog....I know it's not articulate as I usually am. Not poetic or pretty at all. I just needed to get this all down and out there...and to figure out what to do. Plus, I'm halfway through a glass of whiskey.
Thanks for reading.
September 7, 2007
Glug-Glug
after being asked recently why i haven't been blogging i realized something: i haven't been blogging. at all.
so here i am.
and "blogging" is a weird sounding word. it sounds like a fish going glug-glug through the water with its gills. except i guess that would be glugging not blogging. almost the same thing.
i'm not sure where to start.
Ok, short version: I'm quitting my job with the non-profit industrial complex, wandering around for a minute, and then going to Palestine to work on setting up a youth center in Al Xhaleel (aka Hebron)with a friend of mine/some people i met when i was there last. during the wandering period and the time before i quit my job (i've already told 'em, but i'm giving 'em time to find someone new, etc) i'm working on fundraising for said youth center (that's said like, i said it earlier, not said like edward said...just to be clear). and i'm working on various other things...including divestment & support for khalil gibran international academy- the dual language arabic-english school that just opened in brooklyn. before it opened, however, due to right-wing pressure, the principal was overwhelmed with public/media pressure and had to resign. the new principal: a jewish, non-arabic speaking Zionist. Yup. Seriously. So i'm workin on that a lot.
Oh. Another thing- you remember how i'm kind of loud? some might say...overwhelming? the other day, i was hanging out with folks after a jfrej meeting (jews for racial & economic justice- that's who i've been doing a lot of the khalil gibran academy support work with- i mean, i've been working with a coalition, that includes a lot of org's including arab women in arts and media, people from the school design team, first unitarian church, n more... but jfrej is a part of the coalition and so i've been one of their rep's...) and I actually had to struggle to be loud enough (literally, volume-wise) to be heard and I actually felt overwhelmed. It was great! :-) Haha.
Oh, and speaking of loudness...myy little cousins are adorable (and loud) (because they're kids). I have one who's 11 and one who's about 6. SO cute. The 11 year old is totally a person now, and I love it. The 6 year old likes to play and cuddle. And has the softest hair in the world. And calls herself a "princess," but also likes to play baseball (even though she can never remember which direction to run). The 11 year old knows how to play baseball, is an avid Mets fan and hates the Yankees with an equal passion. She's just discovering the world of fashion and shopping for the first time (with a bunch of grown ups who say "You know you can get brand names at Marshalls and Kohls for cheap!") but also still complaining about the boys who flirt with her and are "annoying." And also, she cried when Bush got re-elected. Oh, and you know those calendars that count down till Bush's last day? Yea, the 6 year old wants one o' those. Haha. See, they're great!
That said (again, not Edward), I am SERIOUSLY considering moving back to the bay after I come back from Palestine....Just to put that out there. Wanna convince me? Okay, ready, go! convince...i'm waiting.
so here i am.
and "blogging" is a weird sounding word. it sounds like a fish going glug-glug through the water with its gills. except i guess that would be glugging not blogging. almost the same thing.
i'm not sure where to start.
Ok, short version: I'm quitting my job with the non-profit industrial complex, wandering around for a minute, and then going to Palestine to work on setting up a youth center in Al Xhaleel (aka Hebron)with a friend of mine/some people i met when i was there last. during the wandering period and the time before i quit my job (i've already told 'em, but i'm giving 'em time to find someone new, etc) i'm working on fundraising for said youth center (that's said like, i said it earlier, not said like edward said...just to be clear). and i'm working on various other things...including divestment & support for khalil gibran international academy- the dual language arabic-english school that just opened in brooklyn. before it opened, however, due to right-wing pressure, the principal was overwhelmed with public/media pressure and had to resign. the new principal: a jewish, non-arabic speaking Zionist. Yup. Seriously. So i'm workin on that a lot.
Oh. Another thing- you remember how i'm kind of loud? some might say...overwhelming? the other day, i was hanging out with folks after a jfrej meeting (jews for racial & economic justice- that's who i've been doing a lot of the khalil gibran academy support work with- i mean, i've been working with a coalition, that includes a lot of org's including arab women in arts and media, people from the school design team, first unitarian church, n more... but jfrej is a part of the coalition and so i've been one of their rep's...) and I actually had to struggle to be loud enough (literally, volume-wise) to be heard and I actually felt overwhelmed. It was great! :-) Haha.
Oh, and speaking of loudness...myy little cousins are adorable (and loud) (because they're kids). I have one who's 11 and one who's about 6. SO cute. The 11 year old is totally a person now, and I love it. The 6 year old likes to play and cuddle. And has the softest hair in the world. And calls herself a "princess," but also likes to play baseball (even though she can never remember which direction to run). The 11 year old knows how to play baseball, is an avid Mets fan and hates the Yankees with an equal passion. She's just discovering the world of fashion and shopping for the first time (with a bunch of grown ups who say "You know you can get brand names at Marshalls and Kohls for cheap!") but also still complaining about the boys who flirt with her and are "annoying." And also, she cried when Bush got re-elected. Oh, and you know those calendars that count down till Bush's last day? Yea, the 6 year old wants one o' those. Haha. See, they're great!
That said (again, not Edward), I am SERIOUSLY considering moving back to the bay after I come back from Palestine....Just to put that out there. Wanna convince me? Okay, ready, go! convince...i'm waiting.
August 15, 2007
creativity
i think inspiration in this world is like one giant process, or web...
someone creates something...whether it is a project, a painting, a poem, or just something they say...someone else (or many other people, hence the web, rather than just a sequence) absorbs that...kind of inhales it...then exhales another breath that is just as inspirational to others, that takes another form- another project, poem, painting, sentence, question, chant, etc...
just a thought.
someone creates something...whether it is a project, a painting, a poem, or just something they say...someone else (or many other people, hence the web, rather than just a sequence) absorbs that...kind of inhales it...then exhales another breath that is just as inspirational to others, that takes another form- another project, poem, painting, sentence, question, chant, etc...
just a thought.
August 11, 2007
a reflection
I wrote this this morning when my internet wasn't working, so I'm posting it now.
I’m one page into Gloria Anzaldua’s “Borderlands,” and I already had to put down the book to write down a thought. I think that’s the sign of a good writer. No, of an amazing writer. A good writer entertains, and even provokes thought, but an amazing writer inspires. A good book, you can’t put down, and an amazing book, you have to put down, because you can’t possibly absorb it all at once, nevermind allow it to do with you what it will and what it must, generate thoughts and responses and emotions. I think a good book is more like an experience than just something to read.
I’m thinking about land and nature and spirituality. What does it mean for me to feel spiritual in a nature which is not mine? In Palestine, it was very clear that to feel this way was wrong. I felt intensely uncomfortable when I was in Jenin and Kameel and Salem were showing me their beautiful city. The trees there were beautiful symbols and sources of growth and the rolling hills felt incredibly soothing, despite the occasional checkpoints scattered across them. I felt so good breathing in the land there, and that felt wrong. It wasn’t mine. Like did I really have a right to love it and absorb it and let it make me feel healthy and alive? I rarely think about that when I love being in nature here in the U.S., but I should. Earlier this week I went to the park and wrote poetry on my lunch break. The trees made me feel invigorated and as the words flowed out of my pen and into my journal I felt like I was finally awake and encountering the world again, like I used to be. But is that okay? I mean, this land is stolen just as much as Palestine is, and the idea that “that’s all in the past,” is obviously absurd and offensive. And when I feel at home in Brooklyn, because my family has been in New York for generations, and I live only one neighborhood(ish) over from where my grandmother grew up, is that any more “right” or “okay” or “not-fucked-up” than it would be for me to feel “at home” and happy in Palestine?
On another note, I'm currently listening to Suheir Hammad. Can I tell you my favorite line ever in a poem. From her poem "critical resistance," "A woman will tell you/ every home she has ever inhabited has been broken into/ starting with her body." Maybe that's why I love poetry. What takes most people essays or books to say, a good poet can say in one line.
I’m one page into Gloria Anzaldua’s “Borderlands,” and I already had to put down the book to write down a thought. I think that’s the sign of a good writer. No, of an amazing writer. A good writer entertains, and even provokes thought, but an amazing writer inspires. A good book, you can’t put down, and an amazing book, you have to put down, because you can’t possibly absorb it all at once, nevermind allow it to do with you what it will and what it must, generate thoughts and responses and emotions. I think a good book is more like an experience than just something to read.
I’m thinking about land and nature and spirituality. What does it mean for me to feel spiritual in a nature which is not mine? In Palestine, it was very clear that to feel this way was wrong. I felt intensely uncomfortable when I was in Jenin and Kameel and Salem were showing me their beautiful city. The trees there were beautiful symbols and sources of growth and the rolling hills felt incredibly soothing, despite the occasional checkpoints scattered across them. I felt so good breathing in the land there, and that felt wrong. It wasn’t mine. Like did I really have a right to love it and absorb it and let it make me feel healthy and alive? I rarely think about that when I love being in nature here in the U.S., but I should. Earlier this week I went to the park and wrote poetry on my lunch break. The trees made me feel invigorated and as the words flowed out of my pen and into my journal I felt like I was finally awake and encountering the world again, like I used to be. But is that okay? I mean, this land is stolen just as much as Palestine is, and the idea that “that’s all in the past,” is obviously absurd and offensive. And when I feel at home in Brooklyn, because my family has been in New York for generations, and I live only one neighborhood(ish) over from where my grandmother grew up, is that any more “right” or “okay” or “not-fucked-up” than it would be for me to feel “at home” and happy in Palestine?
On another note, I'm currently listening to Suheir Hammad. Can I tell you my favorite line ever in a poem. From her poem "critical resistance," "A woman will tell you/ every home she has ever inhabited has been broken into/ starting with her body." Maybe that's why I love poetry. What takes most people essays or books to say, a good poet can say in one line.
August 8, 2007
as though i haven't already made enough lists for one day....
inspired by a current instant message conversation, here is a list of some things i don't like, followed by another list of some i do:
roaches
verizon
microsoft excel
microsoft in general
capitalism
the irs
insurance companies
window fans that are so loud i have to check and see if there's actually a helicopter flying directly outside my window
sales recordings that dial your number trying to sell you airline stuff and begin the call by making plane sounds (it's very disconcerting)
did i say capitalism?
that time in the morning between waking up and drinking coffee
the way if you wear flip flops in nyc (bklyn incl.) your feet end up greyish at the end of the day
did i say roaches?
of course, the rest of what i usually dislike still applies (Israel, the U.S., war, occupation, prisons, cops, patriarchy, heterosexism, racism, etc) but the list above was just particularly relevant to my last day or so.
things i do like:
watching teenage girls kee-ya (sp?) and break through boards with their hands or feet and listening to their excitement about it before and afterwards
smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk in nyc
coffee
the trees blowing in the wind outside my window
my new air conditioner
breaking boards myself (such an amazing feeling!)
people that inspire me
people whose eyes light up when they are inspired
park slope
that one of my walls in my room is made of brick, which goes perfectly with my color scheme
plants
people who are friendly on the phone
writing poetry in Prospet Park on my lunch break
living within easy travel distance of my family and getting to do things i couldn't before, like meet my brother's new girlfriend and see my little cousins grow up
talking to people from other org's in ny and feeling the movement building over the phone as we make connections with each other
laughing with coworkers
people who teach what they love and love it
blogging and imagining you all reading what i write, and feeling like that makes me a little less far away
roaches
verizon
microsoft excel
microsoft in general
capitalism
the irs
insurance companies
window fans that are so loud i have to check and see if there's actually a helicopter flying directly outside my window
sales recordings that dial your number trying to sell you airline stuff and begin the call by making plane sounds (it's very disconcerting)
did i say capitalism?
that time in the morning between waking up and drinking coffee
the way if you wear flip flops in nyc (bklyn incl.) your feet end up greyish at the end of the day
did i say roaches?
of course, the rest of what i usually dislike still applies (Israel, the U.S., war, occupation, prisons, cops, patriarchy, heterosexism, racism, etc) but the list above was just particularly relevant to my last day or so.
things i do like:
watching teenage girls kee-ya (sp?) and break through boards with their hands or feet and listening to their excitement about it before and afterwards
smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk in nyc
coffee
the trees blowing in the wind outside my window
my new air conditioner
breaking boards myself (such an amazing feeling!)
people that inspire me
people whose eyes light up when they are inspired
park slope
that one of my walls in my room is made of brick, which goes perfectly with my color scheme
plants
people who are friendly on the phone
writing poetry in Prospet Park on my lunch break
living within easy travel distance of my family and getting to do things i couldn't before, like meet my brother's new girlfriend and see my little cousins grow up
talking to people from other org's in ny and feeling the movement building over the phone as we make connections with each other
laughing with coworkers
people who teach what they love and love it
blogging and imagining you all reading what i write, and feeling like that makes me a little less far away
August 6, 2007
cracked paint
Between the monotony of excel documents and the photocopy machine, even momentary meaningful conversations feel like cool breaths of air. And in this 90 + degree weather, the coolness is as essential to life as the air. Someone called today to set up a workshop for women in prison. Our conversation probably lasted about 10 minutes but she was real. I mean, she talked to me like I was human and she expressed emotion and frustration about the situation her organization was facing. Why is it that in a movement which theoretically reclaims the humanity of all people, we still need to relate to each other in such a fake way? I didn't even realize I was doing it too until I talked to her and felt relief. I also did not realize how much I prefer words to numbers. I knew it, but it was never relevant. It's probably the change of temperature from the heat outside to the air-conditioning in the cafe I'm in now (I still don't have internet in my house) that is making my fingertips feel dry, but it feels like it's the databases and numbers that have been occupyingmy brain all day. My fingers feel dry like they were dipped in pale grey paint and left to dry in luke-warm air till the paint stuck and cracked. Like their creativity has been stifled. The minute I allowed my fingers to touch a keyboard, metaphor started to come out (see two sentences ago!), like it was waiting behind some kind of floodgate for me to let it free. I don't want it to sound like I'm complaining. I'm not. Just philosophizing and blogging and wondering about things. Like why do we have to live in a world where my situation- having a job with a salary I can live on that I don't reallyreally hate- is a rare privilege? And like how am I going to go back to Palestine if I only have 20 vacation days/year? And if I go to Palestine, then how am I going to go to San Francisco to see all of you? See, questions, questions. But it isn't complaints. I mean, I know this work has to get done. I only wish it could all happen in poetry, over beers, and after 11am.
August 2, 2007
the revolution will not be filed
official update from amy to the bay area: i miss you!!!
in other news...i started my job! i'm not sure yet what i think of it. it's a lot of info to learn quick- a lot of computer programs, filing systems, etc...but yesterday, just when i was starting to feel really frustrated with all the techy stuff (how the hell did i of all people end up with a job that required tech knowledge??) one of the self defense classes for teens started happening in the dojo that's attached to our office. and i got to hear a bunch of teen girls yelling "NO!" while they practiced their strikes. so then i felt inspired.
i think a lot of my frustration is just that i'm learning that all the stuff they say about the NPIC (non profit industrial complex) is true. not that i doubted it's truth. i just didn't fully understand, and now, after 3.5 days, i think i 'get it' a lot more. i mean, if all of our effort could go towards planning and organizing for real change instead of filling out all these stupid bank forms and dealing with weird computer programs and filing everything...i feel like someone should write a book about how in addition to not being televised or funded, the revolution also will not be filed. it's all for government/board/other institutions. so i don't know. in this system, i know our options are limited. and as a result of that, we have to deal with the bullshit. and i need a job, and i'm happy that my job supports a good organization. but godammit, why can't we just have the revolution now??
in other news...i started my job! i'm not sure yet what i think of it. it's a lot of info to learn quick- a lot of computer programs, filing systems, etc...but yesterday, just when i was starting to feel really frustrated with all the techy stuff (how the hell did i of all people end up with a job that required tech knowledge??) one of the self defense classes for teens started happening in the dojo that's attached to our office. and i got to hear a bunch of teen girls yelling "NO!" while they practiced their strikes. so then i felt inspired.
i think a lot of my frustration is just that i'm learning that all the stuff they say about the NPIC (non profit industrial complex) is true. not that i doubted it's truth. i just didn't fully understand, and now, after 3.5 days, i think i 'get it' a lot more. i mean, if all of our effort could go towards planning and organizing for real change instead of filling out all these stupid bank forms and dealing with weird computer programs and filing everything...i feel like someone should write a book about how in addition to not being televised or funded, the revolution also will not be filed. it's all for government/board/other institutions. so i don't know. in this system, i know our options are limited. and as a result of that, we have to deal with the bullshit. and i need a job, and i'm happy that my job supports a good organization. but godammit, why can't we just have the revolution now??
July 24, 2007
I'm employed!!!
Yup, it's true. I'm employed! I'm going to be (starting on Monday, 7/30) an administrator for an organization called The Center for Anti-Violence Education (actually called "CAE," since activists and organizers only speak in acronyms...do we just have so much to do we don't have time to pronounce whole words?) If you're curious, the website is www.cae-bklyn.org
Now I'm off to Providence (the city, not the state of mind/being) for a few days to visit a friend...and now I really gotta speed up the apt search because otherwise I have an hour and a half commute every morning...and waking up that early a lot of days in a row is really not appealing.
Now I'm off to Providence (the city, not the state of mind/being) for a few days to visit a friend...and now I really gotta speed up the apt search because otherwise I have an hour and a half commute every morning...and waking up that early a lot of days in a row is really not appealing.
July 16, 2007
mostly ranting
Rants:
1. There is no such place as "israelpalestine." I don't know if any of you have ever encountered this, but people keep wanting to talk to me about israelpalestine. and there just is no such place. there is a place called Palestine. there is an imperialist apartheid state currently known as Israel, referred to often as "48." The place I went to over the winter is called Palestine. I did not go to israelpalestine and i did not go to Israel either.
2. As my mother put well, I think, "you can't really be colorblind after the age of like, 8." I love my mom, she's awesome. What I do not love is 4 hour long conversations with friends which start out as discussions about hip hop and turn into discussions about language and dialect, where the person saying racist things in these discussions says "But I'm not racist, this isn't about race, I don't even see race, I'm colorblind." And telling a story about how you were once the only white person in a group of four and you told all the people of color not to tell racist jokes about each other so they could all get along better really does not make you a good person. Sorry.
Ok enough rants for now. More to follow soon, I'm (unfortunately) sure.
Now I feel a little better because I'm in Brooklyn with Sarah! We're subletting a place for a few days. The place is in Bushwick, which I've decided is a neighborhood I really like. There are a lot of families and I guess I like that. It makes the city feel cozier.
Oh and two things I love about BK:
1. drinking on fire escapes
2. apartments with rooftop access
going to check out a place in bushwick today...still waiting to hear back from a job interview...i'll post the details of the job if i get it.
how do i end blogs? i am never sure.
1. There is no such place as "israelpalestine." I don't know if any of you have ever encountered this, but people keep wanting to talk to me about israelpalestine. and there just is no such place. there is a place called Palestine. there is an imperialist apartheid state currently known as Israel, referred to often as "48." The place I went to over the winter is called Palestine. I did not go to israelpalestine and i did not go to Israel either.
2. As my mother put well, I think, "you can't really be colorblind after the age of like, 8." I love my mom, she's awesome. What I do not love is 4 hour long conversations with friends which start out as discussions about hip hop and turn into discussions about language and dialect, where the person saying racist things in these discussions says "But I'm not racist, this isn't about race, I don't even see race, I'm colorblind." And telling a story about how you were once the only white person in a group of four and you told all the people of color not to tell racist jokes about each other so they could all get along better really does not make you a good person. Sorry.
Ok enough rants for now. More to follow soon, I'm (unfortunately) sure.
Now I feel a little better because I'm in Brooklyn with Sarah! We're subletting a place for a few days. The place is in Bushwick, which I've decided is a neighborhood I really like. There are a lot of families and I guess I like that. It makes the city feel cozier.
Oh and two things I love about BK:
1. drinking on fire escapes
2. apartments with rooftop access
going to check out a place in bushwick today...still waiting to hear back from a job interview...i'll post the details of the job if i get it.
how do i end blogs? i am never sure.
July 6, 2007
confessions from a past life
moments like this are what give meaning to the term "moment of weakness."
i just added a friend of mine from Palestine to my facebook (yes, i have facebook, i just don't use it). i realized i still have an old friend from high school on my facebook friends...one who happens to be in the u.s. military. he and i haven't really spoken since the start of the war in Iraq. i stared at the computer screen for a few minutes, contemplating deleting him. realizing the contradictions of having her and him both called "friend." i didn't do it. why? is it just curiousity? like looking at his facebook page is some kind of window into the life of "the enemy." or is it my own past that i want to look into? a past that includes a friend who voluntarily joined the military. and a present that includes a friend who, however supportive of me she pretends to be, leaves messages on his myspace telling him he's "so hot." i wonder if she posted that when she saw the picture he posted of him in uniform with a gun. who the fuck thinks it's hot for someone to kill people in the name of imperialism? and what the fuck is wrong with me that makes me not just delete this guy from my life and my memory? and what will happen when he comes back here? and ends up hanging out with the friends of mine who do still talk to him? will i see him? and if so, how will i stop myself from yelling at him that i too have seen war, only i have seen it from the other side, and how dare he inflict occupation on people, doesn't he know what occupation means, does, is? when i talk like this to even my closest friends here, they talk to me about "acceptance" and "friendship." so suddenly i'm the bad guy, for wanting to cut him out of my life (even though something stops me from cutting him out of my facebook). suddenly i'm judgemental, and he, despite the fact that he's killing people in a racist and imperialist war, gets to be the tolerant one, because he's willing to "tolerate" me and my radical politics. it makes me want to scream. instead, i'm just posting a blog.
i just added a friend of mine from Palestine to my facebook (yes, i have facebook, i just don't use it). i realized i still have an old friend from high school on my facebook friends...one who happens to be in the u.s. military. he and i haven't really spoken since the start of the war in Iraq. i stared at the computer screen for a few minutes, contemplating deleting him. realizing the contradictions of having her and him both called "friend." i didn't do it. why? is it just curiousity? like looking at his facebook page is some kind of window into the life of "the enemy." or is it my own past that i want to look into? a past that includes a friend who voluntarily joined the military. and a present that includes a friend who, however supportive of me she pretends to be, leaves messages on his myspace telling him he's "so hot." i wonder if she posted that when she saw the picture he posted of him in uniform with a gun. who the fuck thinks it's hot for someone to kill people in the name of imperialism? and what the fuck is wrong with me that makes me not just delete this guy from my life and my memory? and what will happen when he comes back here? and ends up hanging out with the friends of mine who do still talk to him? will i see him? and if so, how will i stop myself from yelling at him that i too have seen war, only i have seen it from the other side, and how dare he inflict occupation on people, doesn't he know what occupation means, does, is? when i talk like this to even my closest friends here, they talk to me about "acceptance" and "friendship." so suddenly i'm the bad guy, for wanting to cut him out of my life (even though something stops me from cutting him out of my facebook). suddenly i'm judgemental, and he, despite the fact that he's killing people in a racist and imperialist war, gets to be the tolerant one, because he's willing to "tolerate" me and my radical politics. it makes me want to scream. instead, i'm just posting a blog.
July 4, 2007
red is for blood
red for blood.
white for the people who settled here and drew the blood from the indigenous Peoples of the continent(s).
and what is blue for? sadness? sadness as deep as the ocean and wide as the sky?
fucking fireworks.
who the hell decided that emulating war is celebratory?
i hate the fourth of july. a fucking celebration of colonialism and war. at least it's appropriate, right, to celebrate US "independence" with explosions. it sounds like bombs and gunshots outside, and i know that it isn't, but my stomach still turns over when i hear it. the poet in me is playing with the words. "fire works." fire works for what? works for colonization, imperialism, genocide? sad, because fire itself is a beautiful thing. fire works, however, are not.
i'm not good at blogging about anything other than the present moment, but i'll try to talk a little about my past couple weeks.
so there was camping in massachusetts- "summercamp." it was fun. it feels a long time ago now, so while i had lots of rants about it when i was there, it feels hard to access that now, which might not be a bad thing. basically: "radical" politics, patriarchy, & white privilege. i shouldn't generalize though. that was really only some people who were there. but of course those are always the ones who seem to take up the most space.
then the ussf. movement building rocks. for me, the highlight of the forum was when some folks who are organizing around the border wall b/w the u.s. and Mexico stopped by the Palestine Tent to talk about divestment from both border walls (that, and the one in Palestine). for those of you reading this who dont already know, the same (israeli) company is a part of the building of both the walls.
i'm listening to climbing poetree right now. they were at the ussf. listening to them always brings a calmness to me. not a false calm that assumes there is actually calm and peace in the world, but a calm that encompasses anger and pain, and then surpasses it with inspiration and hope. ahhh.
white for the people who settled here and drew the blood from the indigenous Peoples of the continent(s).
and what is blue for? sadness? sadness as deep as the ocean and wide as the sky?
fucking fireworks.
who the hell decided that emulating war is celebratory?
i hate the fourth of july. a fucking celebration of colonialism and war. at least it's appropriate, right, to celebrate US "independence" with explosions. it sounds like bombs and gunshots outside, and i know that it isn't, but my stomach still turns over when i hear it. the poet in me is playing with the words. "fire works." fire works for what? works for colonization, imperialism, genocide? sad, because fire itself is a beautiful thing. fire works, however, are not.
i'm not good at blogging about anything other than the present moment, but i'll try to talk a little about my past couple weeks.
so there was camping in massachusetts- "summercamp." it was fun. it feels a long time ago now, so while i had lots of rants about it when i was there, it feels hard to access that now, which might not be a bad thing. basically: "radical" politics, patriarchy, & white privilege. i shouldn't generalize though. that was really only some people who were there. but of course those are always the ones who seem to take up the most space.
then the ussf. movement building rocks. for me, the highlight of the forum was when some folks who are organizing around the border wall b/w the u.s. and Mexico stopped by the Palestine Tent to talk about divestment from both border walls (that, and the one in Palestine). for those of you reading this who dont already know, the same (israeli) company is a part of the building of both the walls.
i'm listening to climbing poetree right now. they were at the ussf. listening to them always brings a calmness to me. not a false calm that assumes there is actually calm and peace in the world, but a calm that encompasses anger and pain, and then surpasses it with inspiration and hope. ahhh.
June 15, 2007
on the map
this is supposed to be my new blog that's about new york, not about Palestine.
you might not guess that from this entry...but it is, i promise.
walking down the beach with a good childhood friend of mine...
"I don't call it Palestine, I call it Israel because that's what it is on the map. It's not political. It's just that what it is on the map," she says.
my stomach turned over when she said that. because it was her who said it. and because part of it was true. that is what it is on the map. what isn't true is that it's "not political." it reminds me of when i accidentally asked my students to find Palestine on our classroom globe, forgetting that they won't be able to find it. 'actually, i'll show you where it is,' i had to correct myself.
I know I said a million times that this was part of my reason for coming back. Working within my own community, the one I grew up in, friends and family I grew up with...But I had this idea that I would do that work by doing presentations and workshops for the synagogue I went to as a kid, or for my old high school, or by organizing meetings or educational events...as E and I walked down the beach and she made the above comment, it felt painful. but something also clicked in that moment. this is the "work" i was talking about. it's painful, it sucks, and it makes me want to scream. but there are many more painful things in the world. so i know i have to learn how to navigate these situations in an effective way, without compromising my own understandings of the world, but also without alienating the friends and fam i'm trying to work with. how do i communicate my completely anti-zionist stance to someone while simultaneously understanding that for her, this "i guess i don't really take a side on the issue, both sides are wrong," is a step forward from "wherever we stand we stand with israel," which is pretty definitively her mother's standpoint. and that bombarding her with the anger which feels like it's welling up in the back of my throat, ready to pounce, is not a good idea. then we will only fight. and she will be able to dismiss everything i say as "too angry." it's a process. a long, frustrating, but hopefully useful process. a process i realize i am suddenly embedded in, and will be for as long as i'm here...
okay, maybe people want to know the rest of what i've been doing since i've been here. it's just, there isn't much. i landed alright, although the plane ferried around Oakland airport for an hour before it took off because of some sort of delays on the New York end. immediately, of course, i was seeing, smelling, feeling, and hearing New York. traffic, people yelling, cars honking, smog and pizza, hella stress, you know, all that. i didn't really taste new york till this morning when i ate a bagel n cream cheese. mmm. i've spent time with family, i finally switched my phones back (so the 415 # is my correct # again), i went with my mom to buy my brother a birthday present, stuff like that. and of course, i saw my friend last night.
tomorrow i leave for "summercamp," which is not actually summercamp, but more like a giant camping trip with over 100 people of all ages for about 10 days (a friend's family and their friends organize this every summer). except the camping trip also includes workshops (some historical, some political, some creative, some random) and basically the people on it are a bunch of old communists and their families, which is kinda fun.
after that i go to the bds institute and then the social forum- sooo excited about that!
so i probably won't post again for a while. i don't wanna be one of those people who can't let go of her virtual world despite all the wonderful people at her side...but feel free to leave me comments while you wait for the next "episode" of my blog.
you might not guess that from this entry...but it is, i promise.
walking down the beach with a good childhood friend of mine...
"I don't call it Palestine, I call it Israel because that's what it is on the map. It's not political. It's just that what it is on the map," she says.
my stomach turned over when she said that. because it was her who said it. and because part of it was true. that is what it is on the map. what isn't true is that it's "not political." it reminds me of when i accidentally asked my students to find Palestine on our classroom globe, forgetting that they won't be able to find it. 'actually, i'll show you where it is,' i had to correct myself.
I know I said a million times that this was part of my reason for coming back. Working within my own community, the one I grew up in, friends and family I grew up with...But I had this idea that I would do that work by doing presentations and workshops for the synagogue I went to as a kid, or for my old high school, or by organizing meetings or educational events...as E and I walked down the beach and she made the above comment, it felt painful. but something also clicked in that moment. this is the "work" i was talking about. it's painful, it sucks, and it makes me want to scream. but there are many more painful things in the world. so i know i have to learn how to navigate these situations in an effective way, without compromising my own understandings of the world, but also without alienating the friends and fam i'm trying to work with. how do i communicate my completely anti-zionist stance to someone while simultaneously understanding that for her, this "i guess i don't really take a side on the issue, both sides are wrong," is a step forward from "wherever we stand we stand with israel," which is pretty definitively her mother's standpoint. and that bombarding her with the anger which feels like it's welling up in the back of my throat, ready to pounce, is not a good idea. then we will only fight. and she will be able to dismiss everything i say as "too angry." it's a process. a long, frustrating, but hopefully useful process. a process i realize i am suddenly embedded in, and will be for as long as i'm here...
okay, maybe people want to know the rest of what i've been doing since i've been here. it's just, there isn't much. i landed alright, although the plane ferried around Oakland airport for an hour before it took off because of some sort of delays on the New York end. immediately, of course, i was seeing, smelling, feeling, and hearing New York. traffic, people yelling, cars honking, smog and pizza, hella stress, you know, all that. i didn't really taste new york till this morning when i ate a bagel n cream cheese. mmm. i've spent time with family, i finally switched my phones back (so the 415 # is my correct # again), i went with my mom to buy my brother a birthday present, stuff like that. and of course, i saw my friend last night.
tomorrow i leave for "summercamp," which is not actually summercamp, but more like a giant camping trip with over 100 people of all ages for about 10 days (a friend's family and their friends organize this every summer). except the camping trip also includes workshops (some historical, some political, some creative, some random) and basically the people on it are a bunch of old communists and their families, which is kinda fun.
after that i go to the bds institute and then the social forum- sooo excited about that!
so i probably won't post again for a while. i don't wanna be one of those people who can't let go of her virtual world despite all the wonderful people at her side...but feel free to leave me comments while you wait for the next "episode" of my blog.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)