Conflict Isn't A Four Letter Word...Running Is

At this point in my life, I should really know better than to avoid my feelings. Actually, let me be clear. At this point in my life I should know that when I avoid owning my feelings, particularly when I am afraid of my feelings or afraid of how those feelings may be received, I tend to wild out and do some dumb shit.

I am hoping to avoid that this time around.

I believe that everything happens for a reason. Absolutely everything happens for a reason. I often get pissed off because I don't usually understand why certain shit happens when it does and in the circumstances when it does (I mean....it would be simple courtesy if the universe could give me a heads up when it is going to fuck with me and turn everything topsy turvy....perhaps a post it note on the fridge or a text message...GChat? Im? No? Okey dokey)....

For the last week, I have been in Minneapolis for two series of meetings. The first was the ROOTS Coalition meeting. ROOTS is a coalition of the 14 leading queer and trans people of color organizations in the U.S. (though the coalition is multi-racial and includes white led organizations, all of the groupings either center people of color in their work or are explicitly people of color organizations). Getting 14 organizations together to form an entity that can work together to push a new kind of LGBTQ organizing agenda by forming a strategy and education tank (StratTank) is hard work. Lots of the folks in the room have personal histories as well as organizational histories that are sometimes difficult.

Moments of difficulty and conflict are necessary for growth and lay the foundation for really being able to do tremendous work together.

This weekend, there came a point in our work when the entire body started to run from a potential conflict. I am no stranger to running from something that seems hard. I am no stranger of walking away from something that seems complicated. It's the fear of being hurt or being wounded or being rejected or being denied or being found wanting/unworthy that has always been behind my high stepping away from difficult moments.

This week I decided to force a confrontation by holding the group accountable to its attempt to run from a hard decision. I knew absolutely that I could come out the other side hurting. I risked being rejected by my peers and I was forcing myself into a confrontation that I absolutely understood was going to be difficult and could trigger some old and deep hurts. But I also knew that if this body of allies didn't stop running from the hard work, and if I couldn't, personally, face up to the piece of the hard work that was sitting in the room that was attached to a history that belonged, in part, to me, that the coalition was in deep fucking trouble.

Not only did the confrontation happen and it was difficult, the end result was so beautiful that it absolutely confirmed for me that it is beauty and healing that lays on the other side of bravery and risk.

By no means did I make it through the conflict on my own. Part of being willing to engage in healthy conflict is trusting that the folks that are in it with you are going to HOLD you if you come to the hard stuff with integrity. It's trusting that love is stronger than hate/anger/hurt/wounding/sadness/loss/fear. It is trusting that if you come to the moment with hope and care not just for yourself but for the process and with the small bravery of dreaming and wishing for something better and more beautiful to come the other side of the hard moments, that it WILL work out. For those of you to whom I reached out and reached back, thank you. To those that reached out on your own, thank you. And to the one who answered the phone a whole lot that day, thank you.

We can all think/fear/nightmare out the horrible possible outcomes of any situation. Particularly those of us that have been hurt and are still holding on to our hurts. The pain and fear tells us that this situation is going to be a repeat of the one before it and the one before that and the one before that. We lose sight of all of the happiness and beauty that we have experienced and the OVERWHELMING number of times that our families/communities/lovers/friends/comrades have held us. We forget about the times when we took a risk and it led to something transformative and beautiful.

Hurt screams while love whispers...but hurt eventually loses its voice while loves voice keeps steady and strengthens.

I won't run any longer. My hurt doesn't get to win and difficult moments do not get to derail potential. The work of living, the work of growing, and the work of justice demands more than that.

I love you all.

The Lord Works in Mysterious Ways

Do you ever have those days when you know, without a doubt, that the Hand of God has been on you?

Yesterday was one of those days. I started the day happy as a dung beetle in a pile of horse shit. It was a sunny day in Manhattan. I was off to the gym where I had a great cardio work out. I came home, made a delicious lunch, finished a couple of things I needed to get done online...was preparing for a well deserved nap...and then my partner's ex and his boyfriend came home. I let them know that I would be laying down, and my "roommate" starting cursing at me about me taking a nap and how he wanted to play his music. I again stated, respectfully, that I would be taking a nap and they were welcome to play music, but if they would keep it down, I would greatly appreciate it. I then closed the door and prepared to take a nap.

Then World War III broke out.

I won't go into details, but suffice it to say that these two extremely wounded human beings nearing 50...knowing that my boyfriend was out of town...ambushed me and basically took turns screaming at me and hurling vileness at me with such a deep hatred...that it was obvious...even during it all...that what they were projecting at me was what they were really feeling towards each other and about other circumstances in their lives.

I used every single training experience I had ever been given to de-escalate the situation. I never raised my voice...I spoke calmly...I listened to what they had to say even when they were screaming, even when I was called out of my name. Finally, they left. That is when I broke down.

Knowing that what had gone down was not about me didn't matter. For real...my boyfriend's ex's current boyfriend and I have met two times...and we had never exchanged harsh words. Nor had I ever spoken unkindly about him in any way.

I have never felt so unsafe in my home as an adult.

The fact that I stayed completely calm, acted with absolute integirty, did not demean or debase the people that were attacking me, and showed them respect even as I was being disrespected was a gift from God (and a credit to those fantastic people in my life that have taught me what it means to be in conflict and how to be in conflict without losing myself...I am not always good at it...but yesterday I was flawless...and that fact alone is proof that God was with me).

The rest of the day also was God touched.

I went to softball practice, and I hung out with my new team for the first time. I adore them. I think I remember most of their names, but I sure as hell know that I couldn't attach their names to them all. We had a great practice...my pitching was decent (it can always use improvement)...and then I batted. Now, I have never had a problem hitting the ball. But I have also never been a Herculean hitter. Yesterday, almost every ball I hit was, at the very least, deep in the outfield...a couple of times they would have been straight up home runs. I was in awe of myself. Either the bat was magical or I had an angel swinging along with me. I refuse to take credit for it until I actually do it in a game.

My coach is hilarious. The guys were super welcoming and sweet (and crass and hilarious....sweet God I felt at home). We went to the ultra-bear bar for super cheap drinks. I met Danny O'Donnell...Rosie O'Donnell's brother who is also a NY State Assemblyman...he is a very nice man and very...friendly. He also took me to task for talking smack about Jennifer Holiday's duet with Jennifer Hudson...sorry but the woman was terrible.

I then hightailed it to a borough to a secret location to hang out with some friends plotting an electoral revolution...more to come on that in the future.

It is rare that you have the opportunity to see, in different ways, the good Lord working in such diverse ways...but from the support of my partner, to my conduct during the conflict, to new friends and a great team, to a great evening with my co-conspirators, it was obvious that even though some of the day was extremely difficult and called up memories from childhood that I thought were laid to rest...that I was not doing any of it alone...and that God himself and an assortment of characters that sometimes took the shape of cute Greek first ladies and old friends in new places were right there with me.