Starting Again

It is June, and I haven't posted since February.

I've been on retreat.
I've been to the UK.
I've been the music director for an amazing production of Little Shop of Horrors.
I've run an event attended by 1000+ people.

I've been busy.

In those three months I've also spent a lot of time being embarrassed by the actions of our President.

I joined Twitter to read and shudder at the off-the-cuff, grammatically-inept and lexically-challenged rantings of our President.  (This might have been a mistake -- Twitter kicks my spiritual peace right in the ass.)

I've written to The White House, Senators and Congresspersons, in union with those who love our Mother Earth (and who are much smarter than I am) and who know that climate change is real.

I've had the wind taken out of my sails, and wondered at the futility of fighting back against an administration whose policies and attitude toward others -- individuals, countries, races, ethnicities and genders -- is incompatible to all that I hold true, dear, and important, and yet barrels forward with seemingly little concern for the consequences of words and actions.  (Our President could have used a few life lessons from my parents.  Although I often ignore my mom's sweet soft advice that echoes in my head to "think before I speak,"-- sorry, mom -- my dad's ceaseless "actions have consequences" speeches boom in my mind every day.  Every single day.)

In other words, I haven't been much of a warrior.  I even considered deleting this blog.  Gasp.

But then a friend (OK, it was my sister) sent me a screenshot of our State Representative's Facebook post and commentary on the most recent London terrorist attack, as she knew that Clay and I had just walked those bridges in London eight weeks ago, and that after watching news coverage, Clay realized that one of the pubs involved was a pub where we had stopped for a pint.  While the Representative's "this is why you carry" and "THIS IS WHY I FIGHT FOR YOUR GUN RIGHTS" comments almost made me break my self-imposed exile from commenting on his posts, I was stopped -- and shocked -- by one of his more recent posts.  He shared this (one of his 25 Facebook posts on Monday, but I'm not judging.  Ok, yes, I am.):

in response to this:

and I sort of lost my mind and wrote this, even though I knew better. Even though Clay (who agrees with me, bless his little liberal-leaning heart) warned me of what would happen:

This letter does nothing but further the culture of rape by placing responsibility firmly on the rape victim. While I love kick-ass women who have been well-trained to take down an attacker, your suggestion of "learning how not to be a victim" is a faulty and short-sighted solution. Rape victims include children, older women, disabled women, mentally challenged women -- women for whom self-defense classes are a non-starter. And, if your definition of avoiding victimization is to carry a gun, you know that there are millions of women like me for whom this could never be an option. Please don't add "if only she'd taken a self-defense class" and "if only she'd had a gun" to the already amazingly long list of rape excuses like "she was asking for it".

I thought that was pretty peaceful, thoughful, etc., etc., etc.

Representative Lucas responded:

 Seriously? Furthering the culture of rape??? That's about as low as you can go right there, Georgiann! There is no such thing as 100% guarantee to not have bad or horrible things happen to you, but to completely ignore the vast amount of training that is out there that teaches women things to look for so that they don't put themselves in the position of becoming victimized is foolish. Why wouldn't someone want to mitigate and try to prevent a horrible tragedy such as this?

I really don't think he understood what I was saying.  I'm wondering if he read past the first sentence? And then he invited his friends to respond to me, which they did.  Ouch.  And to which I responded:

Jim Lucas, first off, I certainly didn't mean to offend you with that term -- you know that's not how I roll. But rape culture is a term we live with in today's America. It's on television, in movies, at fraternity parties -- the culture that normalizes sexual violence. It's the culture that says "boys will be boys with boyish urges" and puts the onus on rape victims. That was my point. It's a harsh term. But when 1 in 5 women in this country are victims of sexual violence, I don't think it's a term I/we can back away from. And actually, I thought I was going high, in defense of women who cannot or would not participate in classes like Tamara teaches (I know and love lots of women who have taken her classes -- as a feminist, I would never tell another woman she shouldn't take the classes.) I understand that you're calling for fairness in the press --a "let's look at another side of the story" call. I think that there is a third (and I should have added "more important") side -- the side that says let's teach boys and men not to use and abuse women in sexually violent ways. The side that says no woman is asking for rape, despite how she looks, acts, dresses or how drunk she is. I'm pretty sure we can agree on that one. Peace.

He didn't respond to that.  His friends did. Ouch again.  But several of my real-life friends came to my defense (even if they don't agree with me, it was kind of them to do so).

But you know what?  He didn't make me cry this time. (He's made me cry before, like the time he turned his back on me in public, Amish-shunning style, after I wrote an opinion piece in our local paper questioning his upcoming legislation that would relax gun laws.) I didn't cry, even when his friends called me ignorant.   Even when one said I failed at reading comprehension.  Even when one assumed I had never been the victim of sexual violence. Even when he invited his friends to take me to a self-defense/shooting class and he would pay my tuition.

Because I know that I am right.

Representative Lucas (I don't know why I'm addressing him, as I am fairly certain he will never visit this blog, but anyway...), we cannot blame rape victims for their lack of awareness, their inability to defend themselves and their failure to carry a weapon.  Your letter to The Star implies that you can.  Your pattern of blame in response to tragedy implies that you will.  I am asking you to stop compounding tragedy by blaming victims.

And hey.  Thanks for reminding me that I need to keep writing this blog.

Peace, my friends.

What To Do, What To Do?

I think I'm Piglet.

I'm trying to be brave.
I really want to be helpful, but I'm just not sure of how to make that happen.
And today, I'm scared.
I feel very small and lost in the mist.

Here's what scares me:

I'm frightened by the ugliness I see on social media, coming from all sides.  No matter what happens in Washington, DC or our statehouses in the next 2-4 years, can we ever repair the fissure that the 2016 elections have ripped in our national consciousness?

I'm frightened by those who think social media is the media.

I'm frightened by those who think they know things, but don't.  But yet, they feel compelled to speak or write without knowing the facts or the truth.  I am not afraid to tell you that there are lots of things I don't know and even more that I don't understand.  I do know lots of things; however, because I was a smart girl growing up in the 1960's in small town Indiana and spent a lot of my elementary school days with tape over my mouth because I just couldn't not say the things I knew, I am still a little afraid to tell you what I know.  Because it's bothersome, plus the boys wouldn't find it attractive ... but that, my darlings, is a blog post for another day...

I'm frightened by those who think they know things and believe that "research" is looking something up on the Internet and then quoting Breitbart or Newsmax.
I wish I had a nickle and two Advil for every time I read "Do your research!" on Facebook.

I know I'm a bit of a snob about this, but I was one of those kids on the high school debate team who read and took notes from The Congressional Record (even though I wasn't a very good debater nor a very good note taker)  and spent my first two semesters at the University of Akron as a miserable research assistant (I started to hate going to the library, and I love the library).  Research involves investigating, citing, annotating, other time-consuming work and a crap ton of index cards.  Research is not re-posting a meme, and a meme is not a fact even though 32,496 people have shared it.

Today, I'm frightened by those who say, "Keep you hands off of my sacred 2nd Amendment rights" and yet think it is perfectly fine to question the validity of 1st Amendment, one of my personal favorites.  It  is so important that it is first, and guarantees freedoms of the press, of speech, of the free exercise of religion and of assembly.  (There's a printable Constitution link on the right.  It's good reading; I'm also quite fond of the 13th, the 15th, the 19th and the 21st -- let's all vote and drink together!)

See?  So important they have always had a spot on our dining room wall.  

President Trump denounced the press throughout his campaign, hoping that we would all conclude that the press was biased.  Primarily against him.

Geeze, Louise, Mr. Trump.  Of course the press is biased -- from Benjamin Franklin, whose anonymous pamphlets generated interest in issues that would profit him ("Hey, let's print paper money!  On my printing presses!"), to Spiro Agnew lashing out against the liberal press opposed to the Vietnam war by calling them "nattering nabobs of negativism" (my dad loved that phrase -- I probably got tape on my mouth for repeating it at school)  to every American paper in every American city endorsing a candidate in every American presidential election. Read a little Noam Chomsky, will you?

And as for the Johnson Amendment, a 1954 tax code which prohibits certain organizations (like churches) from endorsing political candidates, and which I hadn't even heard of until Mr. Trump made it an issue, I'll just say this:  I love my country and I love my church.  I also love coffee and gravy, but don't want them in the same cup -- that is a disgusting mess that would end up in the garbage.  Allowing more religious influence in American politics is opening a Pandora's box of discrimination and hatred, i.e., disgusting mess.

Meanwhile, there were 5,037 episodes of gun violence in this country in January, 2017.
There were 1,316 deaths due to gun violence in January, 2017.
This morning in Virginia, a 6-year-old brought a gun to school in a backpack.
Happy February, 2nd Amendment fans.

My dad always said a little fear was a good thing.  While I think he said it in regard to my teenage curfew, I think it applies here, as well.  Being a little frightened makes you a little more aware and a lot more careful.

"'Supposing a tree fell down, Pooh, when we were underneath it?'

'Supposing it didn't,' said Pooh after careful thought.

Piglet was comforted by this."

       - A. A. Milne

Peace.

Making A SJW Resource List

I spent a lot of yesterday scouring the Internet (when I should have been working, practicing, cleaning or writing letters to loved ones, which was one of my 2017 resolutions.  Perhaps I'll make that a February resolution).

I collected links to government officials, organizations and websites that might come in handy in your own SJW journey.  They're over there on the right.  It's just a starter -- I'll be adding to it often.  If you have some sites you think should be included, just let me know and I'll add them.

Peace.  

The Sunday Readings

As I writer, I want to be make an impact.  Go deep.  Be profound.  

Today, I'm not feeling that.  Luckily, today's Mass readings for the Catholic church are all of that and a spoonful of Nutella (you know what I mean: beautiful, satisfying, and just what you need).  Thanks to my dear friend, Lori, who texted me last Tuesday as she was reading ahead, and alerted me as to timely perfection of these passages.   

The first reading, from Zephaniah, Chapter 2:

Seek the Lord, all you humble of the earth,

who have observed his law; seek justice, seek humility;

perhaps you may be sheltered on the day of the Lord's anger.

And next, in Psalm 146: 

The Lord keeps faith forever, 

secures justice for the oppressed,

gives food to the hungry.

The Lord sets captives free.

The Lord gives sight to the blind;

the Lord raises up those who were bowed down.

The Lord loves the just;

the Lord protects strangers.

The fatherless and the widow the Lord sustains,

but the way of the wicked he thwarts.

The Lord shall reign forever;

your God, O Zion, through all generations. Alleluia.

And the Gospel, from Matthew, 
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.  Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy... Blessed are the peacemakers ... Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness ... rejoice and be glad for yours is the kingdom of heaven.   

Could these passages be any more important?  Nutella, I tell you.  

Peace.

PS  If you don't have Bible handy and want to meditate on the daily readings, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops has a calendar here.  

I Won't Let You Steal My Joy

I know.  I told you in my last post how I hate the word "pussy" and now I'm showing off a pussy hat.

What can I say?   When I first read about the project, I jumped on the Pussy Hat bandwagon (you can read about the project here) because I believe in solidarity.  Sticking together. Knitting for good.  Peaceful protest.  Everyone wearing the same hat.

I was going to ship my hat to Washington DC, but of course, missed the deadline (cause that's how I roll.  Or fail to roll) so I gifted it to my friend, Katrina, who wore it to the march in Indianapolis because she's kind of fabulous.

There were lots and lots of hats.  The hats made the news.  The hats made history.

While talking to a few friends, we concluded that we all dislike the word "pussy", but agreed that the word was absolutely appropriate, having been unintentionally chosen for the movement by President Trump himself on that fateful bus ride with Billy Bush (which I was sure signaled the end of his candidacy.  Silly me.)

I'm not going to try to categorize knitters, just as we shouldn't stuff anyone who marched last Saturday into some predetermined tidy little labeled box -- there were nuns, Muslims, pro-lifers, pro-choicers and even men on the March.  But I've knit for most of my life, have taught knitting for the last 12 years, and have met more knitters than I can count.  I have yet to meet a knitter who wasn't  kind, thoughtful, and giving.  (Wait.  I just thought of one.  And got a shiver.)  I know the political leanings of only a few of my knitting friends; we don't usually talk politics when we knit together -- we talk knitting, food, knitting for others, pets, knitting, children, knitting for children, weather forecasts and knitting.

So I was surprised yesterday when one of my best friends, Pam, from Franklin, Tennessee, sent me this link.  It's the story of Elizabeth Poe, who owns a knitting shop called The Joy of Knitting in Franklin.  On Facebook, she posted that women who were coming to her shop to buy yarn for the "women's movement" should shop elsewhere, because she, a Christian, believes the movement to be "vulgar, vile and evil." After Pam's note, several other knitters have sent me links to that article, and were wondering what I thought.

So,  here's what I think:

1)  When Ms. Poe called the movement vulgar, vile and evil, she was calling me vulgar, vile and evil.  She was calling women and men I love and respect vulgar, vile and evil as well.  You know how I feel about bully speech -- if she was trying to convince people of some larger truth, she lost her argument with me when she started name-calling.

2)  Ms. Poe's remarks have only served to drive another wedge between women.  As followers of the movement learned of her stand and statement, they reacted with a YUGE flood of comments on that Facebook post.  Despite Ms. Poe's exhortation that her post was not a "platform to hash out my beliefs v. your beliefs," 13,000 replies later, that's exactly what it has become, built upon a platform she erected all by herself.  I haven't read all 13,000, but lots of the posts are simple reminders of what the movement means for all women; however, many commentors are disgusted with Ms. Poe, her shop and policies (which are extreme and which I've never seen posted in any other shop -- no children, no returns/refunds/exchanges, no touching the yarn if you just put on lotion (?) and $75 an hour for knitting lessons/consultation.  At that rate, our library owes me around $30,000.  I'll take that in books and yarn, please). Some bully Ms. Poe right back, and you know where that leads -- anger, hatred and division.

3)  This is poor business practice.  Although she stated that she didn't need the business of folks like me who might craft something she sees as subversive or evil, I'm pretty sure she needs all the customers she can get -- small yarn shops struggle to stay afloat, and I'm sad to say I've seen several fail.  Many knitters (me) love to travel, and in their travels, search out local yarn shops.  Now, many knitters who visit charming Franklin, Tennessee won't bother to stop and shop at The Joy of Knitting.  (Of course, the evil part of me wants to drive to Franklin tomorrow, have lunch with Pam, buy some yarn at this shop, knit penis cozies for Chippendale dancers and send Ms. Poe some photos.  The nicer part of me tells the evil part to shut it and read the previous posts on this blog.)

4)  I am a Christian, too.  I don't think this is how the Jesus I love would have handled the March/Movement participants.  I'm thinking there would have been some listening, some compassion, some discussion and some hugs.

5)  If when we die we are judged by what people did with the things we might have sold them, a lot of people -- I'm thinking of cucumber farmers, especially -- are in big trouble.

6) Ms. Poe needs to read some history of the women's movement in the United States and say a prayer of thanks for the thousands of women who worked ceaselessly so that she can vote, hold political office, go to the college of her choice, own a business, theoretically earn an equitable salary, marry who she wishes to marry (and divorce according to her own will), receive adequate healthcare, decide when and if she should have children and then continue work after.  If she would think about it, she would recognize that what she has accomplished as a small business owner is not just a result of her hard work and choices -- it is also the product of those women who had nothing in the way of rights, career and income, but would not allow for the women of the future to be similarly afflicted.

I recognize that.  And am so thankful.  And cannot stay quiet because I have two daughters, two granddaughters, and so many, many young women I love (and so many more I will never know) who deserve a future where equality is no longer a debatable issue, but an unspoken reality.

Ms. Poe wrote that "the women's movement is counterproductive to unity of family, friends, community and nation."
That's not what I saw in the photos of marches all over the world, where waves of pink-hatted women linked arms, sang songs, laughed and cried together.
That not what I heard in the stories of the women who marched for awareness of women's' issues -- health, equality and an end to violence again women.
And that's certainly not what I feel.  But you probably knew that.

This blog is my tiny part that movement.  And I am happy to be a part.  Now, I'm off to cast on ...

Life is a reality, you can't always run away

Don't be so scared of changing and rearranging yourself

It's time for jumping down from the shelf - a little bit.

Language and Bullies. The Language of Bullies. Bullies of Language.

I love words.
I love reading words, I love writing words.
I love calligraphy and doodling words  -- even during meetings, which I recently found out is not rude as I feared, but is in fact a beneficial tool for thinking.  Thanks, research!

I love big words that send me to the dictionary, and I love short little words that pack a lexical punch.
And, I love a couple of curse words.  I'm just warning you.  "Shit" is my go-to for typing errors, dropped knitting stitches and mistakes at the piano.  And thanks to the events of 2016, I have welcomed "fuck" into my vocabulary in all its incarnations:  noun, verb, adjective, adverb and most prominently, interjection.

I don't like curses that use the Lord's name in vain.  This probably stems from some time spent over the kitchen sink getting my mouth washed out for "gaw" and "geeze", which to my mother were far too close to you-know-what.  She took the 10 Commandments very seriously, especially the 4th.

I have never heard a synonym for "vagina" that didn't make me cringe.  Just say vagina, ok?  And any time you want to use a female genitalia-derived slur to describe or deride another human, just don't.

That's what I hate most of all -- words/curses/profanity that put down another person.  Calling someone a "pussy" (probably my very least favorite word ever) to define athletic prowess or manliness seems antithetical to its other often-used-but-still-inappropriate definition:  that place where so many long to be for comfort and satisfaction (how's that for sexy talk?)  "Retard" should only be used when referring to slowing the spoilage of food.  You may use "bitch" when referring to a mama dog, "dike" if you're travelling to Holland, and never forget the space between fat and so, as in "I didn't want you to choke on the fat so I cut if off your pork chop."

This is bully speech.  Using our beautifully complex language to brutalize another person should be completely unacceptable to anyone who loves words.  And people.  Bully speech is unacceptable for my family, my friends, strangers, teachers, coaches and the President.

Bully speech clouds arguments.  It steals the focus away from important issues.  It breaks hearts and lets hatred fill the broken places.

So you won't find it here.

Let's talk policy, human rights, environmental stewardship and social justice, but without putting anyone down (or their spouse, their children, or their wardrobe).

Peace.

Life is a reality, you can't always run away

Don't be so scared of changing and rearranging yourself

It's time for jumping down from the shelf - a little bit.

May This Be a Spot of Reference

See that column over there on the right?  I have listed some links to elected officials; you can email them from there, or call, or use paper and a real pen to write a heart-felt letter.  That's what I used to do, but with the advent of the internet, it became much easier to email.

I later found out that the emails I had sent every day for many months (in opposition to what I saw as a relaxing of Indiana gun laws) were lost in cyberspace due to a glitch in the www.in.gov website.  Which made me cry a little.  OK, a lot.

So now, I call.
So call.  You will probably get an answering machine, but call anyway.
Call.
Call.
Call.

I'll be more adding links to organizations I support, petitions to sign and  ways to protest.

Stay tuned.

Life is a reality, you can't always run away

Don't be so scared of changing and rearranging yourself

It's time for jumping down from the shelf - a little bit.