For a Better Democracy: Ranked Choice Voting

Despite what the 24 hour news cycle and modern pundits would have you believe, democracy as practiced now in the United States is neither the model for democratic practice internationally nor is it a static exercise practiced once a year in November. Nor is democracy simply the act of voting.

While, the practice of modern democracy in the United States enjoys a longer, more stable history than perhaps any other modern state, the history of democracy in this country has been one of struggle. What is now held up as sacred—universal suffrage, the rights gained under the 1963 Voting Rights Act, and diminished barriers to voting for people of color—are all hard won rights that have been taken through massive grassroots action and often times have been paid for in a cost measured in lives lost. While the premise of democracy is that the demos, Greek for common people, should hold the ultimate decision making power in a polity, the actuality is that there has been and continues to be a struggle between the demos and a minority that enjoys and maintains privilege through limiting access to democratic practice and the institutions that are reserved for the elite through electoral gate keeping.

Nowhere is this gatekeeping more apparent and more rigidly defended than in plurality voting winner takes all elections. The basic premise of democratic practice is majority rule, minority rights. The actuality of the U.S. tradition of democracy is that of minority rule with majority rights. Candidates that win with less than 50%+1 of the voting public, sometimes with much less than that—Jesse Ventura's 1998 Minnesota gubernatorial win with 37% of the vote is one recent example, still claim a mandate to govern. No gubernatorial candidate in Minnesota has won a real mandate to govern in more than two decades. Because of winner take all voting systems, a candidate no longer has to convince a majority of the electorate that his or her ideas are in the best interest of the state and its people, they only have to convince a large enough minority with narrower interests and less concern for the broader collective welfare to turn out in margins just large enough to beat the other candidates. When a candidate no longer has to challenge his or her own views in order to meet the needs of the broadest good, self-interest and politics trump public service and communal well-being. Democracy is reduced to “beating the other guy.” And political offices become prize fight trophies instead of public trusts. The deeply polarized and vitriolic rhetoric of recent election cycles bear clear testament to this deepening and disturbing reality.

Thankfully, winner take all elections are not the only option. Ranked Choice Voting (RCV), a voting system that requires a winner receive a true mandate to govern and allows for deeper, more nuanced, yet still straight-foward and simple voting not only changes what happens in the ballot box but also the tone, rhetoric, and ideology that dominates the campaign trail. RCV, also known as Instant Run-Off Voting, is used in municipalities across the United States, including Minneapolis and San Francisco, as well as for national elections in Australia and Ireland, allows voters to rank their candidate preferences on the ballot. If no single candidate receives 50%+1 of the vote, then the lowest vote getter is dropped and his or her votes are redistributed to the voters second choice candidate, etc.. This process continues until one candidate passes the required 50%+1 benchmark guaranteeing that he or she actually has the confidence of the people when forming a government.

When candidates are forced to not only consider their narrow ideological base of supporters but also the social and political priorities of broader set of voters, it has been demonstrably proven that the tone, style, rhetoric, and reality of the practice of democracy changes---less vitriol, broader base building, and fewer or no negative ads. When a candidate is forced to consider not only his base but also the needs of those that lay further afield from his personal preferences, the result is public policy that requires a broader view that is much less likely to infringe upon minority rights.

Because of the possibility for such wide reaching impact, a commitment to ranked choice voting should be an active part of a progressive platform that weds outside-of-the-system direct action organizing and movement building with electoral reform. As the recent attacks on organized labor in Wisconsin have clearly demonstrated, as long as the electoral system continues to volley back and forth across polarizing lines, more and more harsh and intractable public policy will be the result. As a movement building opportunity, the attacks on organized labor in Wisconsin are priceless but the emotional and psychic cost on communities constantly under siege by the very people that are supposed to represent their interests is not one that can be long sustained without long lasting wounds.

Ranked Choice Voting, which inherently inhibits these types of reactionary figures from earning (or barely squeaking into) public office, is a launching point for sensible, just social change. When our voting system reflects the nuanced choices of the electorate, including the viable promotion of third parties, the public policy that results from the ensuing compromises is very simply better for everyone. From education to health care, when elected officials are forced to incorporate the broadest possible coalition to win election as opposed to a slim and fervent minority, real social change and progress towards justice is not only possible, it becomes probable without sacrificing anyone for political gain.


For more information on ranked choice voting, check out FairVote Minnesota the national organization FairVote: The Center for Voting and Democracy.

One Liner of the Week Award: Sweetie

Like most queer homosexual gays of my generation, I saw "Too Wong Foo," in the theater. The opening of that movie, from Salt-n-Pepa's Body Beautiful to the drag pageant, was perhaps the best opening of any movie ever. EVER! Don't argue with me.

I can remember distinctly when the busty drag queen MC walks on stage in her tiny hat and says, "HELLO HELLO HELLLO!" Never in my gayest dreams did I ever imagine that one day I would not only meet her but also give her the One Liner of the Week Award.

Here's the story.

Last night, David, Vinnie, and I headed down to the Times Square Comedy Club to see our friend Chad Pace aka Divine Grace in a drag queen lip synching game show audience interactive play:"The Ultimate Drag Off." From the beginning, the super campy show was awesome. As folks were being seated, a cheap Russian whore aka Sweetie's daughter, made her rounds from table to table telling us to to "wote" aka vote in each round. She was also the only biological girl in the show.

As the show swung into full effect, Sweetie took the stage as the game show host. She was fantastic. She worked the crowd like a true performer, and her comedy was on!

At one point, she was talking about Jennifer Hudson, and then said something in drag queen Spanglish, which is a little known dialect of Old Homo, when she spotted me in the front row and said to me, "That was for our Latin brother, ummmm, or Asian, ummm...or whatever bastardized mix you happen to be."

And that, ladies and ball tuckers is the One Liner of the Week Award.

I later forgive her for her light dash of racism when she said that I was hot and looked like Michael Yeoh from E! TV...if, that is, he would come out of the closet.

Do yourself a favor, if you are in NYC, go and see "The Ultimate Drag Off," tell Sweetie that Michael Yeoh's gay cousin sent you.

Real Ghost Story, e.g. Some Scary Shit!

Every since I was a wee one, I have had creepy encounters with our much deader cousins. Like most kids, I saw the ooogy boogy shadowy creatures that vanished around a corner when you tried to stare them down. While I didn't SEE dead people as a kid, I knew when they were around. My skin would try to crawl off of my body, or there were places that other folks had no problem walking around, I was aware that there were folks hanging about that would prefer that anyone with a pulse pick up and kindly move along. I never really talked about it, and I have no proof that my tingles and feelings were anything more than gas.

My only other super powers are that elevators tend to show up and open up as I am walking up to them, with no one in site, and in some ancient ass buildings that have nothing resembling modern equipment AND if there is a person that I know, and that said person is in a city in which I am in, and I don't know that they are in town, I tend to run into them. That second power wigs me out in that it has happened on the beach in Florida (ran into two friends from Minnesota), five times on the island of Puerto Rico (ran into five friends from Minnesota on five separate occasions in five separate locations on the island), in a gay bar in Denver, in Times Square, and, most recently, I ran into my Non-Romantic Life Partner (who lives in Indiana) a block from my house in New York as he was on his way to a gay bar (he hadn't told me he was in town.....sneaky).

But, in the last couple of years, my third eye seems to have been propped open and given a monocle. A couple of years ago, I was sitting on the floor of the beautiful old Victorian home I shared with three women in Oakland, chatting with David on Facebook. It was a beautiful morning, about nine a.m.. I was sitting in the "family room," when I looked up and out of the door into the foyer. The sun was shining through the front door, and a white woman in a old white lacy night gown took two steps up the stairs towards the second level. With her second step, I could see the heel of her foot clearly and the nightgown was kicked up a little bit as she walked up the stairs...then she disappeared.

I told David I'd seen a ghost. Packed up my computer. Left a bright yellow post it note on the fridge that said, "I SAW THE GHOST," and then I beat it up out of that piece and headed to work.

Fast forward to just a few months ago. when I woke up from a dead sleep feeling like someone was trying to choke the hell out of me. I could feel a weight on my body, and when I opened my eyes, standing next to my bed, clear as shit, was an old white man dressed in a frock coat, buckled shoes, hose, and a three corner hat. He was holding up a deed or some other legal document in his hand, and he looked mad as Hell. I thought I was dreaming, and I even closed my eyes and opened them again to see if maybe I was. No luck. Dude was still standing there. I sat there staring at this old creep for about 10 minutes before he finally faded away. I even tried to wake up David, but he was too far gone into Morpheus' world. You can bet I prayed my ass off and called on the name of the Lord before finally drifting back to sleep. The next day I lit up some sage, and I haven't heard from that dude or anyone else lately.

That is until last night.

Last night, I was minding my own bidness (that's right BIDness). I was sleeping and having a relatively traumatic dream about my little cousin Lonnie David (he had somehow hurt his leg and was having to do some sort of toddler physical therapy) when I woke up to see a possible white/possible mixed-race dude...from approximately the same era as old three point hat man. This man, however, did not have a deed. He was barefoot wearing old cotton pants with a drawstring waist, he was shirtless, and he was angry. I got the distinct feeling that he had been a laborer of some sort. AND, at some point, the man had been confined in a tight place with chains, because I found myself pounding the wall over and over again wanting to be let out of somewhere. I didn't get the feeling that he had survived the Middle Passage or anything that dramatic, but at some point, his ass had been in some type of bondage. When I saw old man three point hat....I did some research and had some help from my pal Adam Waterman and discovered that where I live used to be a very large farm owned by an old family that basically held this land for about two hundred years from the 1600s to the 1800s. There had also been workers that lived along the river nearby, and even closer by there had been a family cemetery for the family that owned this land. My guess is that the workers that lived around here were also buried in the vicinity. At least one of those workers is still hanging around.

While I walked away from my first ghostly experience in this apartment with the distinct feeling that the old man in the hat was trying to let us know clearly that this was HIS land, this second ghost was just angry and wanted folks to know something about him or to remind someone that he had lived. The anger from both was palpable, but I felt much less direct animosity from the second than the first, though the second one was not trying to be my friend either.

Looks like its time to smudge again.

In the last year, I've been visited in my dreams by Yemeya and Ogun. I have been visited in the waking world by two ghosts. If I might make a suggestion, I would like to be visited next by a leprechaun with a pot of gold...cuz if I am going to have to interact with spirits and stuff....at least I could make some coins off of the whole experience (well...not Yemeya and Ogun....I don't mess with Gods...no I do not).

You and Me: Needs You and YOU! (New York and San Francisco!!!)

It is my hope that My Feet Only Walk Forward is a not only a vehicle for my own special moments (aka rantings, musings, and emotional vomit....see the footer below...it even says so...), but I also hope that this blog is challenges folks; helps folks think through their own thoughts, feelings, and beliefs; sheds light on some of the ways in which the world works; promotes and highlights amazing artists, organizers, performs and their work; and helps connect people to one another through the inter-webs (please note connects PEOPLE to one another...not people to computer monitors). As I am approaching my 500th blog entry here at My Feet Only Walk Forward, and as I have looked back over the last three years of this blog, I have noticed, with much love and pride, that this blog is becoming more and more of the things I hope it will be. I appreciate all of you that have brought your work to my attention, have suggested blog topics, have shown me love, and have used what you have found here in your own work. From classrooms to audition monologues, My Feet Only Walk Forward has gone places I never dreamed it would go when I posted my first blog three years ago this month. Thank you to all of you that have supported this work.

Today's blog entry is another example of the ways in which I hope to continue fulfilling the mission of this blog. My boy Kirk Grisham is a fierce researcher and tireless advocate in the area of HIV/AIDS research and prevention. He is currently the Project Director of the You&Me study at Columbia that is examining the relationships between black and white men. Please check out the information about the study below, and if you or someone you know are the folks that Kirk is looking to find, please get in touch with him! This is important work for the community, and it can't happen unless YOU participate.


You & Me Study!

Principles:
The You & Me Study is based on the principles of community-based research, which emphasizes the experiences and knowledge of its participants. Collaboration between academic researchers and community members is a hallmark of the You & Me study. Contributions of community members have been and are essential to the development and execution of the study; we value and respect your views. We know that couples are the experts on their own relationships; by speaking with us and reflecting on your experiences in your relationship, you are taking an active role in a project that will benefit the community.

What We're Doing
The mission of the You & Me Study is to gain a better understanding of relationship dynamics and the contextual factors that shape them in order to develop interventions to improve the sexual health of men in same-sex relationships. Little health research has focused on same-sex couples, and even fewer studies have included Black and interracial same-sex couples. Talking with couples will allow us to better understand the relationship context that men must negotiate as they make decisions that affect their sexual health.

Why We're Doing This
Men who have sex with men (MSM), especially Black and White men, account for the majority of HIV/AIDS cases in the United States. Even though about half of all MSM are in steady relationships, little research has focused on same-sex couples. Although there is compelling evidence that couples continue to be at risk for HIV, we know very little about relationship factors associated with risk. Our study builds on previous research in the ongoing Gay Couples Studythat has found that agreements between partners are important to reducing HIV risk. You & Me will examine how agreements and other relationship-based factors may influence HIV risk behaviors among same-sex couples.

For more information click here for the You & Me Study Facebook page.
And here you is the You & Me Study webpage.

Juan Williams is a Coconut

Growing up, I was taunted and traumatized by words like coconut and Oreo. For those not in the know, calling someone coconut (or Oreo or pineapple or apple) is a way that brown, black, and red folks often respond to other brown, black and red folks that, in their opinion, "act white." The connotation is that a coconut (which I keep writing as cocunt....which is a vagina shared by Siamese twins) is an individual that is brown or black on the outside and white on the inside. --(Asian kids that acted white were pineapples, Native kids that acted white were apples--most likely Macintosh as I don't know many Green indigenous folks so Granny Smith just wouldn't work in the same way, and if someone called me Honey Crisp I would probably have been delighted and gave him a kiss).

Now for most of us that grew up being called one of these variation, the experience was traumatizing and the impetus for the taunting had little to do with us "acting white." It had everything to do with the the anti-intellectualism that has been ingrained in many of our communities, so, for example, when my Mother moved us from Duluth, MN to a black neighborhood in Kansas City, MO, my brother and I were attacked as "coconuts and Oreos," because of our northern English (we were also called "proper," by kids in the hood...which would make me cry)--and also because of the fact that the reading book that I had in 2nd grade was the one that they were using in the 5th grade in Missouri. There are many things I love dearly about the South but the public education system is not one of them. Attitudes toward education in many working class and poor people of color neighborhoods are forgivable as inherited relics of Jim Crow and slavery. Just like many relics, though, the reverence for perception versus the honoring of truth causes all kinds of fucked up situations. Someone pass me an Oreo, I need some comfort food.

Today, however, despite my own experience with being labeled a coconut, after reading an article on the Huffington Post concerning former NPR commentator Juan Williams (who was fired from NPR) making a statement in an Op-Ed for The Hill newspaper calling for the defunding of NPR, I posted the article on Facebook and in my comments on the article I referred to Juan Williams as a coconut. I would like to revise and extend my remarks.

My old high school pal Lara Christley sent me an email asking me if I meant that Juan was brown on the outside, white on the inside. I realized when I got her email that I did mean exactly that but, at the same time, not exactly that at all. What I really meant to say is that Juan Williams is brown on the outside and Republican on the inside. The fact that I conflated whiteness with Republicanism, for me, is one dimensional and problematic in that I know fierce fierce fierce white folks that want not a damn thing to do with Republican politics or the fucked up legacy of ultra conservatism in this country. Yet, while examining my use of the word, I found that I was still comfortable with my word choice.

Ain't that a contradiction.

In my mind, and this I stand behind, Republicans and Republican values AS THEY EXIST TODAY, are what have and continue to drive us directly towards our own doom. Those values and the policies that they have spawned have almost exclusively been championed by white folks and have only been implemented by white folks in power. There has not now nor ever been a majority people of color in any state or federal legislature, and never has there been a critical number of people of color in any of the decision making bodies of the Republican Party or in the various right wing think tanks that have developed the pro-military, anti-choice, anti-democracy, pro-business, anti-working folks, racist, heterosexist, hateful policies that have largely dictated the direction of this country since 1981.

There have been idiotic brown folks that have somehow been so self-hating that they have happily drunk the GOP and fundamentalist Christian Kool-Aid and taken up causes and values that are antithetical to their own well being, insults to their ancestors, and deadly to their progeny, but thank God those crazies have rarely had a national platform to spout their idiocy and give the GOP "examples" of the diversity that they claim exists under their "big tent." Juan Williams, though, does have a national platform and has used it in a way that betrays his own history and throws his own (our) community under the bus....then happily backs up over it.

I am not having it.

I wish there was another word that I had at hand that could communicate my complete and utter disgust with Juan Williams, his statement, and his politics. I wish the word that I chose and used did not lump all white folks into a monolith and perhaps communicate the idea that I believe that all white folks are evil. I obviously do not...I, unlike Juan Williams, am not self hating. If my own Mother was any whiter, you would be able to see the sunlight reflecting off of her skin in deep space. But I can not, will not, and shall not tolerate any person of color that willfully turns his or her back on her community for personal gain. And in the grand lexicon of the people of color experience I can think of no word or phrase, no form of condemnation, and no manner of rejection that is more direct or more final than labeling an individual one of those words that I once so despised (and still do when used against a child whose only sin is that he or she has managed to achieve some level of education in a country and educational system specifically designed to assist them in failing) when hurled at me while playing double dutch.

As a child, the worst insult you could hurl at another black person was coconut. Today, I am making a decision to revive that word but with a new meaning. NO LONGER does coconut mean a black or brown person that "acts white." A coconut is an individual so fucked up and so willing to dismantle the very few (and let's be real, when talking about NPR, very flawed) vehicles for communication and democracy that have not been completely corrupted by corporate America that he or she is willing to walk away from justice and into the arms of the same people that would happily string their ass up, light them on fire and have lunch...if only it were still legal to do so.

In Juan Williams' case...if you crack his ass open....you won't find white skin....you will find Fox News and Rupert's Murdoch's Bitch stamped in place of his spine.

An Interview with the cast of Secret Survivors

Every now and again, I get to publish something here at My Feet Only Walk Forward that means something. A few months ago, I got an email (or phone call, I can't remember which) out of the blue from the amazing and beautifully radical Amita Swadhin. Amita had recently been elected as board chair of the National Youth Advocacy Coalition, and she was recruiting new board members. The short version of the story is that I rejoined NYAC's board after a decade absence, and I have had the honor to work closely with her over the last few months,

In the process of working together, I came to learn that Amita is a survivor of child sexual abuse (CSA). Moreover, I came to understand that she has done amazing intentional work not only to deal with her particular history but also to share with the world what it means to be a survivor of CSA. Through workshops, panels, and theater, Amita is a fierce advocate, and storyteller, for survivors everywhere. Though I am not a survivor of CSA, I am a survivor of some fairly heinous childhood physical and mental abuse, and Amita has opened up space for me to speak more forcefully about being a survivor and to be more aware of the ways that being a survivor of childhood trauma manifests itself in my own daily work.

In January, Amita mentioned to me that she and a cast of other CSA survivors would be putting on a play called "Secret Survivors" at the theater in El Museo del Barrio. When the information for the show came out, I was surprised to find that I knew three of the five members of the cast. One of whom, Lucia Leandro Gimeno, is an old friend of mine. Di Sands, no less loved, was a new friend that I'd met recently through Kenyon Farrow. And though I have yet to meet the other two cast members: Gabby Callender and RJ Maccani, I have come to know them a little through this interview, and I can say with honesty that these are tremendous people that are intentional, radical, beautiful, and giving us all a gift by telling their stories so openly and fiercely.

Please note in the interview, I will be using the following initials: AS for Amita Swadhin, LL for Lucia Leandro Gimeno, DS for Di Sands, GC for Gabby Callender, and RJ for RJ Maccani.

Interview with the cast of Secret Survivors


1) How did you all find each other? What work did you have to do with each other, first, before you were able to begin working out how to tell your story to a broader audience?

AS: knew of Ping Chong & Co.'s work because they have an afterschool partnership with Global Kids, where I worked for four years. I had seen their "Undesirable Elements" shows featuring Asian Americans telling stories of discrimination and migration, and of NYC public high school students sharing their experiences through interwoven narratives. I also knew they had created shows with refugees, children who had survived war, and people living with disabilities. I felt they would be a good home for this project. I pitched the idea of using the "Undesirable Elements" format to help survivors of child sexual abuse tell our stories in May 2009, and we began assembling a cast in September 2009.

Given that child sexual abuse is so pervasive (1 in 3 girls, 1 in 6 boys will experience child sexual abuse before the age of 18), I knew that a public call for participants would be overwhelming - how would the theater company and I vet the applications? Also, given that I was participating in the show, I knew I had to have a level of trust already established with the other cast members. I've been out as a survivor in my friend circles since 1995, and increasingly in my professional circles, so I've heard many disclosures from other survivors over the years. I have a "survivor rolodex" of sorts in my head, only because I really try to remember people's stories when they share them with me. So I started by approaching my personal friends who I knew were survivors - that's how Gabby joined the cast. RJ and I had friends in common, and he's been doing work with cisgendered male survivors for some time, so a mutual friend put us in touch. Di and I also have a common friend who I know through South Asian queer community, and she put me in touch with Di once I told her about the project. And LL and I connected because I put a call out on my Facebook status for cast members, and he sent me a private message expressing interest. Sara Zatz (Secret Survivors Director and Associate Director of Ping Chong & Co.) and I put together a thoughtful contract for all project participants, highlighting the fact that this project is not a substitute for therapy, and indicating that the script writing process might in fact retrigger trauma. We wanted to be sure people had come out as a survivor to whoever they needed to share with in their private lives, and that they had healing networks and tools assembled to be able to help them get through the creative process. To be honest, about 5 other people initially expressed interest, but withdrew from the project in the earliest stages once I shared this contract with them and discussed where they were at in their personal healing processes.

Once the five of us had agreed to the participation terms, we gathered for a six-day-long writing workshop, held over the course of two weekends. Sara and I led the workshop, which focused on a combination of theater exercises, writing exercises, and oral storytelling. We shared both our narratives and our political views, and were pleased to learn that we were very much on the same page politically as a group - especially around our analyses of the prison industrial complex as it relates to child sexual abuse. Our mealtime conversations were recorded, and Sara used those recordings, our journals, and one-on-one interviews with each of us to create the script that we are performing on Saturday. We had a therapist in the office (in a separate room) in case any of us got triggered and needed the extra support, and we also had a somatics coach visit to lead us through a series of somatics exercises to help us get grounded and centered together.

RJ: Amita and I had met each other a few times and have a number of mutual friends. I remember well her impressive karaoke skills at a joint celebration she was having with a friend of mine. Folks knew I’d been out about being a survivor and active with generationFIVE, a bay area based organization building transformative justice responses to child sexual abuse, so I’m guessing that’s why Amita approached me. Gabby and I have known each other for years and were both on the board of directors of the Brecht Forum at the time so when I heard her talking about participating in the project at a board meeting it definitely was encouragement to commit. Walking into the room at Ping Chong and Co on the first day I was really happy to see LL, who I’ve known for just as long as Gabby… probably nearing a decade now – wow. LL’s been a great buddy in this whole process. And Di, who I’ve never met before, has been wonderful too. As a group we clicked.

GC: We all knew each other in one way or another from our social activism community. Amita glued us together for this production. It was a nice surprise to show up on the first day and see familiar faces.

DS: How did we find each other? Amita knows EVERYBODY!! she told my friend about the show she was going to put together in november (while they were out seeing "precious" together). my friend said, you should meet di, she has a crazy story and can talk about it without getting upset. that's how we got introduced. i already knew LL and Gabby. RJ is also a new friend for me but now i love him and Amita like I've known them forever.

For me telling my story is not the obstacle. I'm very used to it by now. the work we did together was really intense. getting to know one another at the deepest level of intimacy, even if we've already known one another for a long time. but we also all came in there committed to getting it done, so we were never going to let the disturbing material prevent us form succeeding. we all came to this invested in the collective benefit and we kept ourselves and each other present and grounded by being very conscientious of each person's well-being. we were all responsible for reaching out in support when we could and reaching out to ask for support if we needed to.

LL: I've known each member of the cast before the project started. Some for almost 10 years and some for only a couple, all through queer organizing or community. I've known RJ the longest. We used to be part of Critical Resistance in Brooklyn. Our process was first to just get in touch with our stories, our voices, lots of writing, journaling, writing exercises and then through interviews our director wove a story together. We had lots of discussion about how we wanted to craft our stories and our political messaging one of them being: prisons are not the answer to dealing child sexual abuse.

2) Why is this work important to you as an artist/organizer/change maker?And why now? Why not last year, why not next year? What makes telling your story now, in this way, to such a large audience different than how you have told your story in the past?

GC: I have also shared my story in a film documentary called Anomaly by Jessica Chen Drammeh. Also, I have addressed CSA often as an artists and in my performance ensemble Mahina Movement. Mahinamovement.com .

If I can be brave enough to publicly speak about being victim of child sexual assault then maybe it will provide strength and courage for others who are currently going through the same thing.

DS: This work is so crucial to me because i can't see any way to fight the pandemic of CSA on this planet without making space to talk about it. it must be said and it must be heard. i'm as surprised as anyone else who knows me that i'm in this show right now, but i'm just happy for the opportunity to work with 4 incredible activists whose work i admire tremendously.

Maybe it's worth noting that i started working on this project at 29 years old, 25 years after my abuse was disclosed. i wasn't able to participate in any kind of accountability process for my abuse in the past because of my dissociated memories, so i feel it's about time that i play my part to reclaim the narrative about Wee Care and the terrifying things that Margaret Kelly Michaels did to us there.

The major difference between this and any other occasion when i have told me story is the theatrical medium. it's theater and that's so different from an intimate conversation or even straight-up testifying to any number of people. it's a different kind of witnessing experience for the audience. it anonymizes them (is that a word? i guess so), keeps them with us, holds them in their seats, present from start to finish. we offer them numerous avenues through which they can stay engaged even when they want to look away, cover their ears. and if they do get triggered, we have a very powerful safety net for them in the form of counselors who volunteer to provide support to anyone who needs it during and after the show. when i disclose my survivor history in a conventional conversation, there is not much i can do to provide my audience any safety. if i'm committed to telling anyone who will listen that yes, i'm a survivor of CSA and let's talk about it, i also don't want to hurt people with their own trauma or mine.

I think this show is a real trailblazer for creating a medium for advocacy and dialogue about what is sometimes nearly impossible to say and sometimes nearly impossible to hear, but leaving all parties feeling uplifted and hopeful-- among other things.

AS: For me, Secret Survivors feels like a culmination and a beginning. I've been wanting to tell my story publicly since I was a kid, and especially since I never got to testify against my father (who raped me for 8 years). In some ways, I have been telling my story for years - to friends, to colleagues, to some of my students (when they disclose their own survival stories to me). I first spoke publicly about being a survivor in 1997, at a Take Back the Night rally in college. And one thing that has remained constant is that people always disclose to me when I disclose to them - if they don't have a personal story to tell, they know the story of a friend or family member. And that's the thing about child sexual abuse - it is a taboo epidemic - everybody knows a child sexual abuse survivor, even if they do not know who in their lives has survived this violence. The statistics indicate this to be true. We have established nonprofits that (with only a few exceptions) point to the criminal legal system as a solution to this violence, even when my own story and the story of many others indicate that the criminal legal system has failed to heal perpetrators, and has often retraumatized survivors. When I started my MPA with a focus on public policy, I realized that the work I had attempted to do in college was still work I was committed to - creating social and political change that will end child sexual abuse. Because of post-traumatic stress disorder, I was forced to abandon this work back then, but I have now healed enough to hold this work and move forward. Initially I thought about writing my memoir, but witnessing the way mass media likes to deify individual survivors who are high functioning (like Oprah, Maya Angelou and many others), I knew I wanted to create a way for survivors to tell their stories in tandem, to take the spotlight off of us as individuals and really point to the fact that child sexual abuse is an epidemic that affects ALL of us and that is much bigger than any one person. I believe the work that the five of us have created with Ping Chong & Co. is a replicable model that can help more survivors speak out and can really begin to build a movement of child sexual abuse survivors, through storytelling, that I hope will result in the creation of viable community-based prevention and intervention strategies. What keeps me committed to this vision and this work is the memory of all those who have shared their stories with me and later fallen to self-destructive behaviors and even suicide, and the knowledge that child sexual abuse continues to be an epidemic - I want to create a world that is actually safe for young people, and I believe this is the starting point, given the frequency of this violence.

RJ: That’s the biggest piece, the sheer size of the audience. It’s an event, you know, which is important because an event is something that people talk about with each other like, “Did you go to that performance on Saturday? Let me tell you about it…” It opens up a space for people to have more conversations around child sexual abuse, transformative justice and many other things that we might not otherwise have a smooth-ish way to discuss. But are things that we MUST discuss because they are so deeply affecting us individually and collectively.

I’ve done a fair amount of work to get to this place in sharing my story. I really started talking about my experiences of sexual abuse in 2005. In ’06 I created a digital story about it with generationFIVE and the Center for Digital Storytelling. I’ve done a lot of related work in the years since but, yeah, I’m still scared about the performance on Saturday. I was having major blocks even just sending out invitations to people to come to the show. This is definitely the BIG coming out moment.

LL: This is the first time that i have told my story publicly. As someone who is known in the queer world most people don't know that I am a survivor. Why now is a good question. I think that theater has always been part of my history as a creative person. Any opportunity to use it to talk about issues that impact brown and black people I'm so there. I also think that the timing was right. I am in the process of attending grad school to become a therapist and social worker for queer people of color and this felt like a safe and fun way to talk about something that has impacted my entire life. If i'm going to be supporting others do their own healing I gotta be doing that work myself. It's the scariest and hardest and yet most rewarding personal transformation process I've been apart of. And to be able to share with this group of people who care of healing and social transformation it's like icing to my cupcake.

3) What are some of the challenges you have faced working together? How has the reality of being a survivor, and the multiple ways that can manifest in our bodies, minds, and spirits, made it hard to work together? What healing have you been able to find with each other?


GC: I either like to pull myself away from the group and isolate or be the hero and hold space for everyone – all strong suits I created from being a survivor. It’s hard to do either when I’m working with such a great bunch of loving, evolved human beings. We hold down the space for each other and truth be told ..we have a lot of fun!

DS: It's not too often that an outspoken CSA survivor meets another outspoken CSA survivor, so it's been fantastic to discover the conversations that can take place when the factors of stigma and shame can be zeroed-out. the thing that was tough for me in this and many other survivor group experiences is the lie of a hierarchy of suffering. having been in the unusual position of surviving CSA with a group of kids, i have always compared and contrasted my struggles to the visible signs of struggle in
my friends and peers who were also at my day care. it never felt like the right thing to do, but intellectualizing is one of my strongest coping mechanisms, so it's something i've struggled with. working with this group of folks on this project was the first time i could face that struggle with trusted comrades at my side and consider myself an equal.

I think we each had physical and emotional bills to pay for the work we did to create this show. as adults survivors of childhood trauma, our bodies and minds and spirits are very accustomed to the coping mechanisms we have at times in the past and sometimes still do depend upon to keep us functioning. this work has pushed us pretty far out of the ordinary course of experience and there is a stress reaction. everyone responds and handles it differently. i think it's actually really beautiful to see the great variety of ways that our bodies can communicate with us when they are being pushed over and beyond both societal and self-imposed boundaries. but what should also be noted and celebrated is the reward we get from knowing that our sacrifice has made a constructive and healing impact on the whole (including us).

AS: Sometimes the fact that we face similar impairments (for me, PTSD, for instance) and that we have sensitive triggers can make it hard to communicate and be sensitive. However, over the past year and a half the cast members have really gelled into a group that understands each other's idiosyncracies and we've learned, like one does in any relationship to another, how to call each other out from a place of integrity, honesty and respect. I have found somatics thanks to RJ, and have been able to further process issues like addiction, debilitating perfectionism, and difficulty setting boundaries thanks to conversations I've had with other cast members over the past year and a half. I feel blessed to be working with such fantastic comrades.

RJ: Child sexual abuse is about silence. It’s often something that is experienced solo. Child sexual abuse is an epidemic hidden away in millions of little silos. So to be breaking the silence, sharing the secret, alongside four amazing friends is a real gift and totally different than just telling “my story.” Doing this with Amita, Di, Gabby and LL is about breaking the silence AND the isolation. I feel that difference in my body, my spirit.

LL: This is a great question! I think that when conflict happened I think we were really aware of how we would regularly respond, using our survival strategies, and we dealt with them as a group and we were real generous with each other. I remember pulling RJ aside and being like "yo, this is your space too!" he's so aware of how he takes up space as someone who is white and assigned male and read as straight. he didn't talk a lot our first session. and i was not having it. this was a space for him to take up space because he is someone who has experienced oppression, he is a survivor just like me. i called him out. this is one of those spaces where not contributing and not talking is not being an ally, it's holding up the walls and not helping be part of the process. we held this kind of space for each other. as the only trans person in the group i felt really held and cared for about how gender in the space for me and for everyone, trans or no trans, is complicated and that has been impacted by our sexual abuse. we always checked in with each other and supported each other when we made time to do self care (Even if it meant being late). there is nothing like being with a group of people where touch (i.e. hugs) felt safe and healing for me.


4) Having not yet heard your stories, how does queerness intersect with being a survivor?

LL: For me, as gets laid out in the show, when i was realizing that i was queer it felt like i didn't have a right to say that i was queer because i was too scared to explore my desire for other queer people. Negotiating sex and gender and safety was incredibly difficult. So for me being a survivor and queer has taken me a long time to intergrate as a sexual person.

AS: My queerness is definitely not a result of my being a survivor. I believe I have always been queer, at least in terms of gender expression and behavior, and that my desire is and always has been fluid, when I take an honest look back at my childhood. The fact that my father raped me certainly impacted my self-esteem, self-image, relationship to my body, but that is entirely separate from my desire and gender expression. I do think it was easier to come out as queer once I figured out that I was queer, given that I had come out as a survivor 6 years prior to that. One societal intersection I perceive is that because of homophobia, male survivors seem less likely to speak out, for fear of being perceived as gay (as if being raped or molested indicates one's sexual orientation). Also, I think many people are quick to assume that I am queer because I am a survivor, and if this perception is faced by other queer folks, it may keep many of us silent for fear of feeding in to this homophobic stereotype.

GC: There is an outsider”ness” to being a survivor and an outsider”ness” to being queer. Im also a very light skinned black woman who is adopted …more outsider”ness”…. I have found myself on the outside commonality. However, this has served me well…enabling me to see beyond the usual limitations of life.

DS: i think it's challenging to think about these things, and often folks who learn that i'm gay and my abuser was a woman are pushed to yet unexplored levels of curiosity (producing some pretty heinous questions and comments). fundamentally i think sexuality and pedophilia are as different as apples and facebook-- two completely unrelated and separate planes of meaning. just like some people who use cell phones are left-handed, some survivors of sexual abuse are queer. the fact that the dominant discourse in the media populates our day-to-day interactions with folks who conflate sexuality with pedophilia only feeds my motivation to get this secret survivors project out to as many people as possible!

RJ: I’m a man who was sexually abused as a child by a teenage boy. I also had a hard experience later as an early teenager with a much older woman. Within this heterosexist culture, there are particular ways that each of those experiences are generally read that get in the way of speaking, healing and seeking accountability. Going to public schools in Cincinnati, to come out as having been repeatedly molested by another boy was not my idea of a good time. Later on, in the case of the woman, the assumption is that no matter what I must’ve wanted it, which is also not helpful. So I’d like to acknowledge that queerness allows for a much more expansive understanding of what ACTUALLY happens with our sexual experiences, amongst other things. This creates more room for us to share what is going on with us, including when we’ve been abused.

In my chosen sexual life I’ve lived a pretty straight existence. Did being sexually abused by a boy turn me off to men? I don’t know. This isn’t addition and subtraction. The ways of the heart feel more like calculus. Maybe there’s an algorithm somewhere that’ll help me figure this one out.

5) How have your families been supportive through this process? Have any of your families (of choice or otherwise) been less than supportive of this project?

GC: I am no longer in contact with the family who raised me. My friends (chosen family) have been amazing. My wife, Stephanie has been my rock throughout this entire process.

RJ: My mother and one of my uncles have been especially supportive. I’m also grateful for much of my community here in NYC… too many people to list have given me strength, often in small ways, and that’s made a huge difference.

LL: My chosen family has been there every step of the way. I think because so much of my family are part of the story (as being around when it happened) I put distance between me and this process.

AS: My family, both biological and chosen, have been supportive. I think my sister had some anxiety initially, as her story is obviously intertwined with mine, and she is much more private than I am, but she has given me her blessings to continue this work and I believe she is proud of me taking this project on. Also, my mother has struggled to accept that her public image will become complicated thanks to this work, given the choices she made when I was a child, but ultimately, she too has expressed her support for this work and has said she is proud of me multiple times in the past year and a half. I'm very lucky.

DS: In many ways my parents survived my sexual abuse right along with me! they were deeply traumatized in a different way from me, being adults and understanding the violations in ways no child can. they struggle to this day with crushing guilt knowing now what they couldn't have know then, that they trusted their child to the care of a pedophile. no matter how much forgiveness i can love them with, they may never forgive themselves. Wee Care parents handled their trauma many different ways so i feel fortunate that my parents, whatever their continuing struggles may be, have been as open as they could with me about my abuse. for most of my life they were my only source of affirmation. as i mention in the show, i don't think enough community and support exists for caregivers of survivors of CSA and i wish that my parents had had the option of support from a community of people who shared their experience- especially the other Wee Care parents.

another important community of support has been what i call the Wee Care diaspora: other Wee Care survivors, their parents, the investigators, prosecutors, judges, and therapists who worked hard to try to help us. i'm talking about dozens and dozens of people. working on this secret survivors project has brought me close to folks i haven't connected with in decades. it's also given me the opportunity to connect with other Wee Care kids as adults and to be in solidarity and supportive of one another in ways that i couldn't have imagined even just one year ago. this is such an important network of people in my life and i'm only just beginning to discover all of the connections and all of the potential for healing.

6.) What is the change you hope that this project, presented in this way (theater as opposed to a talking heads panel or After-School Special, or Oprah episode) you hope to see?

LL: This play moves people. It connects the personal and the political and I think this play can help open up a space to talking about how sexual abuse is so real and yet so invisible as an issue that we organize around. The first step to creating a world without sexual abuse is to name it and acknowlege that it exists. This play does that.

DS: I guess i talked a bit about this before. the theatrical medium is transformative and ping chong's undesirable elements series has really elevated transformative process to art. we are real people having a profound impact on an incredibly important and dynamic issue without the star power of Oprah or the intellectual masturbation of political punditry.

In fact, because of my bizarre case of CSA, i can testify to how dangerous that very media can be where CSA is concerned. that media, from Montel WiIliams to Mike Wallace on 60 minutes and the New York Times, bought (and sold) my abuser's lies of innocence hook, line, and sinker. they broadcast it as truth to millions of people. we in the Wee Care diaspora will never reclaim our story from our torturer using those same media tools that she deployed to brand us all as liars- once again exercising unlimited power over our lives, once again we were powerless to defend ourselves. we will change it one by one, audience by audience, witness by witness, until everyone knows what happened because they heard it from our very mouths, felt our scars, mapped our struggle. then, i hope, they will know the truth.

RJ: This is a nuanced peek into the lives of five people who have experienced some part of that really broad thing called “child sexual abuse”. It’s not just about the abuse but about history, vision, resilience and so much more. I hope we touch the hearts of the audience in a way that is much more profound than what can usually be achieved in the mediums you mention above. I hope that this project contributes meaningfully to the emerging transformative justice movement in this country.

GC: More visibility around how CSA affects a wide range of people. Ideally, for it to be common knowledge that CSA is truly an epidemic that needs to be dealt with immediately.


7) How can folks that can't be with us on Saturday see the show or get in touch with you?

AS: People can view two clips of the show on our website (www.secretsurvivors.org). We also hope to produce a DVD and educational toolkit to be able to share this work with many others. People can support our work with a tax-deductible contribution (designated for "Secret Survivors") here: https://www.justgive.org/basket?acton=donate&ein=13-2874863
and can contact me at: amita@pingchong.org

GC: If people want to see more of me and the work that I do they can reach me at gabriellacallender@yahoo.com/ MahinaMovement.com

DS: We are working on the creation of a video of Saturday's performance- raising money and selecting the fiercest outfits- so that as many people as possible can engage with secret survivors. but if nothing else comes out of this show, i want folks to get in touch with the fact that secret survivors is on stage in and around your life every day and everywhere you go. be inspired by the courage of CSA survivors every day, the ones who disclose to you and the ones who don't, the ones with visible scars and the ones with hidden memories, those of us who made it and those of us who didn't. be inspired to have the courage to hold pedophiles accountable in your families and in your communities without relying on the false solution of prisons and jails. have the courage to meet (y)our gaze as survivors and don't look away.

RJ: Hmmm… come find me on Facebook, or through my blog at zapagringo.com

Editor's Note: Lucia Leandro can also be stalked via Facebook!

Thank you all for opening your hearts and lives to all of us. I woke up at 4am this morning and made the mistake of reading RJ's interview responses, and, as with all of your responses, it sent my spirit and my brain into overdrive. I appreciate each of you, your work, and the love that you bring, give, and share with our communities.

(PS, on a personal note, RJ if you ever decide you want to check out the other half of the Kinsey scale...you know where to find me!)

Paranoia Ain't Paranoia If Its Real

Since realizing that meth and I had a fucked up and abusive relationship almost six years ago, Miss Tina and I have been on again/off again lovers. Like anyone that has ever lived through or seen another go through "battery syndrome," it is always shocking but rarely surprising when an individual returns to a lover that is abusive. The comfort of the familiar and the numbness that comes with it do not require the courage to face the unknown and our own internal tapes that tell us that we deserve no more than the abuse we receive at the hands of those people and things that purport to love us.

A couple of weeks ago, my partner was struggling with some of the areas in his life that are challenging for him. In general, he is an amazing, well adjusted, smooth sailor that has done his share of living and figured out lots of things for himself. He's 13 years older than I am, so he has had plenty more time to figure lots of things out. But, like most folks, he has some work still left to do. In this particular case, he was struggling with some issues that impact both of us. In general, we are both very loving and patient with each other when we come up against those places where we know we each have work to do. In this particular instance, I only had so much emotional fortitude banked up, and it ran out.

Now a well adjusted and right-thinking person would have perhaps gone nuclear on his partner, perhaps thrown some shit around, broke a dish or two, and raised some Hell. Perhaps a rational person would have gotten angry but then sat down to help work out an effective solution that allowed for his partner to have the space to work through his shit while also getting the support he needed so that his shit didn't overly impact my mental health.

Oh no! Not my crazy ass.

Instead, after about a week of being angry and bitter, I decided...you know what...you want to be in YOUR SHIT...WATCH THIS!

You think I am joking? I totally arranged a hook up that was going to include a threesome with Crystal Meth, and as I left the house to get high, I literally thought to myself: I'll show you!

Lord have mercy if that isn't the dumbest line of thinking possible. Let me break down that thinking for you into what it really means: Because YOU pissed ME off...I am going to go out and do some shit that is only REALLY hurtful to ME. So because YOU fucked up, I am going to go out and do something in response for which I am going to pay for the consequences.

Now math has never been my strong suit, and I hate word problems, but even I know that 1+Stupid=Dumb As Hell.

Since then, over the last few weeks, I have been full on struggling against my addiction. It has owned my ass in a really scary way over the last few weeks. Thank God I finally reached out to a good friend of mine, also a recovering addict, who, over the last few days, has been the angel I needed to get me to where I need to be. Thank you KF. I love you for it. For those of you that are concerned, I am fine now, I will be heading back to therapy, and KF and I will hitting up some CMA meeting together. I know this dance. It's old as hell at this point, and I am well aware of the things I need to do in order to keep on top of my mental health. There are also request that I have made of David so that our relationship is strengthened by him doing his work as well. If necessary, I will find a therapist willing to move in with us.

But all of that is really just the backstory to the real drama.

Over the years, I have, when partying met guys that I felt knew more about me than they should have. In fact, I have met "random strangers," via various hook up sites that have been very poor actors and about as see through as a lace thong, and so did a poor job of masking the fact that there were things that someone had told them about me. Queens will gossip, especially Meth Head Queens, and since coming out as HIV positive a number of years ago and making sure to include that emblazoned in my online ads, I really could care less about rumors that persisted from an earlier time in my life when I was basically in denial.

The shitty and scary thing was that this sort of moment kept happening despite where I lived geographically. In this Internet age, it isn't difficult to keep track of and fuck with someone via the web. With the ability to embed secret files and programs into graphics, encrypted communications, and a whole host of other sneaky freaky tools, if a computer savvy individual with a grudge or a crusade decides to e-stalk you...there is very little you can do about it. I thought, though, that living my life as rightly as possible, even when relapsing, by disclosing my status, letting folks know if I am dating someone, etc, I figured that I would be able to short circuit whatever rumors happened to be out there about me. Plus, Hell, I never had any hard proof that my interactions with these various men were anything more than a combination of my personal guilt at using heightened by meth fueled paranoia.

Then came this latest relapse. I was meticulous in my various disclosures. I was honest, up front, and clear about just about every possible aspect of my life. It didn't matter.

After one particular hook up, when I noticed, again, some strange behavior in the other person that was consistent with past behaviors that indicated that this person "knew" or had been "told" information about me. I had also noticed, in the past (and this might get graphic ya'll), some really strange behavior where an individual would, ostensibly, place a finger in my anus, but then would do this weird thumping thing with his other hand just outside of my anus while press, from the inside, against the skin...just as you would if you were breaking open something.

The first time it happened, I thought...stop being paranoid freak. The second and third time it happened with other people, I also let it go. When it happened again and consistantly, and I began noticing very strange purple stains on the insides of my jeans I got very fucking suspicious. When I caught a guy actually placing something in my anus after which I ran to the bathroom and saw that, indeed, the skin inside of my anus had turned purple, I knew that something was motherfucking up.

At that point, you'd think that you'd cut your losses and realize that despite your transparency, someone somewhere had decided that they were "Righteous Tweakers," and you were a "Tweaker of Sin," and they were willing to do whatever to keep you from doing what they do.

Just like my Mama, when you tell me I can't do something, it just makes me want to do it more. So, our dear Tweaker Crusaders upped the ante. They changed strategies. Instead of using a purple stain, they began using a solution that is meant to be used externally but when applied to internal tissue causes enormous swelling, effectively sealing up your anal cavity except for enough space for doing your toilet time business.

How do I know this? This last time I connected with someone the dude had a little bottle of solution that was curiously out of place amongst the lubes, poppers, and other ointments. After being in a compromising position, my stomach and booty started to feel funny, so I ran into the bathroom, sure enough, once again, my anus (and I am talking about the inside now...so basically the colon) was swollen to the point of starting to portrude, and let me be clear that NOTHING had happened at this point to justify any type of swelling. It's one thing if you have gotten your back banged out by a big dicked cholo that treated your ass like a low rider, it is quite another to have a .5% solution injected into your anus as some sort of Tweaker Retribution. As you can imagine, I was understandably pissed and dipped the fuck out.

I had a great conversation with my friend Shelly about all of this, and she agrees...how fucked up must you be to decided that you, as a drug addict, have the power,privilege, and moral righteousness to physically attack another human being. By all means, if I were not disclosing or was in some way acting in a malicious and damaging manner, I would chalk this up to a justifiable community response. But that was not what this was.

Of course, in the end, the real point is that by NOT relapsing, I don't have to worry about any of that shit. Simple solution, right? RIght.

And if that shit wasn't actually enough, these Tweakers have hacked my computer and iPhone. For years, I felt like I was being remotely surveilled, which is how various folks in various cities have reacted the same way when I have relapsed. But, again, I never had solid proof to back up my meth fueled paranoia. Now I do. This last week, I noticed my computer acting strangely. Then I discovered a program called iSteg on my computer along with a PDF explaining how to use it. iSteg is a program used to hide secret texts inside of PDFs and image files. It was from a website called www.hanynet.com, to which I had never directed my browser. When I finally was able to load the website (my webbrowser was being manipulated to keep me from it), I found it to be a small, personal website with several homemade hacking programs and two firewall programs. I downloaded the two firewall programs, which then allowed me to see just what was going on with my computer. And lo and behold my paranoia was absolutely justified. Before my eyes, I watched as a individual that lives within as block of me was attempting, and sometimes succeeding to connect to and manipulate my computer.

Let me tell you, after feeling paranoid as fuck for years and thinking that I was losing it...it is nice to have confirmation. Now I am bitter as Hell and ready to kick ass.

My first priority is to take care of my mental health and smack down Miss Tina. But TRUST that now that I have an address and am fairly certain I know who it is, and should I see him on the street, he better sure as hell make sure that I have taken my meds...because I am ready to fuck him up or get put down trying to do so.

I trust my instincts almost always. And, I will continue to do so from this point forward.

And, just in case my hacker is reading this, that moral high horse you have been riding...must have kicked you in the head. Get sober. Clean up your life, and get the hell out of mine.

Revolution and the Middle East: Why the U.S. Should Stay the Hell Out of It

This morning, on Facebook, a conservative gay that often times comments on my wall posts, made a comment today, when I posted a status that was celebrating Tunisia, Egypt and now Bahrain, that "Egypt was easy because they didn't want a bloody coup on their hands. Some of these countries will now be bloody (and some have been). Think about where we would be if we backed the FIRST Iranian protesters last year instead of standing by, timid..."

First of all, I don't believe the U.S. government was at all timid during the Iranian protests. I think that Obama understood the politics and reality of the situation. Also, comparing the uprising in Iran with what has taken place in Egypt and Tunisia are not valid comparisons. Very simply...the uprising in Tunisia and Egypt worked. Iran failed.

As I said to this gentleman on Facebook, I do not deny at all that the Iranian people have the POWER to overcome their current government. And, should the people of Iran rise up and throw down the Supreme Council, I believe the U.S. should immediately recognize whatever new transitional government is formed. It is going to take sacrifice by the Iranian people, and it is going to cost lives. The people rose up once before and threw down the Shah. I believe that, specifically, is why their uprising took place and failed.

It took place because, to the young people of Iran, the revolution of the 1970s, was disconnected from their personal narratives in that they did not live through it. Like all human beings that inherit history but were not around to live through the history, we relate to it differently. As a black American, the Civil Rights movement resonates with me deeply. It gives me a sense of pride and an understanding of the power of people. I look back at that time and think about the unity of community, the folks unafraid to take to the streets and face dogs, water hoses, lynchings, and police brutality. It makes me want to grab everyone I know and form a new human rights peoples army and march off to Washington or Selma or Minneapolis or, better yet, Wall Street. I wonder why our elders aren't marching off with us, leading us, taking us where we need to go.

Of course, right there, is part of the dissonance. I look at the Civil Rights movement from a distance of history and from a vantage point that has been privileged by the work that has gone before without having had to experience any of the pain that went with it. For those folks that fought the fight during the Civil Rights era still bear the scars, pain, and knowledge of exactly how far the state is willing to go to maintain the status quo. That memory is often and can be paralyzing.

I fully believe that the reason that the Iranian uprising was not successful was, in part, due to the memory of the overwhelming repressive actions taken to maintain the Shah's authority. To face that sort of repression once, and survive, is an act of heroism. One is no less of a hero if the idea of facing that sort of repression again is too much for the spirit to handle.

So those beautiful young people in Iran rose up against the Iranian government...but, unlike with the Shah, the movement was limited, isolated, and was facing a modern state with all the powers of social control at its command along with a willingness to roll tanks over angry students if necessary.

Also, if we had intervened during the protests last year, the Iranian government would have had all of the fodder they needed to paint the protests as a U.S. backed attack on Islam and the Islamic Republic of Iran. That would have absolutely galvanized the ultra-conservative base that props up the regime, and Ahmadinejad would have had absolutely no qualms about blowing up a few city blocks in Tehran to wipe out protesters, if it meant retaining power and upholding the Supreme Council. And, if the uprising last year would have been successful and the U.S. had backed the protesters, whatever regime would have come into power, no matter how legitimate, would have been seen as a tool of the U.S. That would have made it continuously vulnerable to reactionary forces and given them a bullet-proof platform to fight against any democratic progress AND, if they manage to regain control of the government, institute such draconian state controls that any movement for democracy will be put far out of reach for the next 30 years. Don't believe me? I got two words for you: Tienanmen Square.

And let's be real about why the U.S. can not intervene in any of these tremendous and powerful uprisings taking place in North Africa and West Asia. It is directly a result of the United State's fucked up, suck ass, imperialist ambitions and actions in the Middle East...when moments like this arrive...when the people are rising up to demand change from their government (or to overthrow their government)...the U.S. has neither the standing nor the relationships within these legitimate pro-democracy movements that would allow us to support grassroots democratic movements. Historically, it has not been in our best interest to support democracy anywhere outside of Europe and North America. Folks living in the underdeveloped world are not stupid. They understand that many of their most oppressive leaders have been able to hold onto power because of direct support from the United States. The Shah of Iran, Saddam Hussein, Osama Bin Laden, Manuel Noriega, Papa Doc, Trujillo, Fulgencio Batista, and the list goes on and on of the dictators that the U.S. has supported that have used the most despicable means of social control on their own people.

We should absolutely recognize, immediately, any real movement for democracy in a country as it is happening. When those movements are successful, we should move quickly to offer aid and support for the new governments. We should offer quiet aid packages to the new regimes that will help support them through the transition. The U.S. should send send CIVIL delegations from the U.S., from places like the Liberty Tree Foundation/Center for Media Justice/FairVote, and other democratic practice NGOs, as teams of experts to help work with the new regime in setting up new institutions that will help preserve and expand democratic practice as it makes sense for the countries where nascent democratic movements are taking place. But our government should stay far far far away from these movements and from the new governments....unless we want to see them brought down in bloody civil wars and arch-conservative backlash movements.

The bottom line is that I fully believe that it is up to the people of each country in the world to bear responsibility for changing their ruling regime. In almost all cases, I absolutely oppose any foreign intervention in the self-determination process of nation-states, including the use of violent resistance to the state, including guerrilla actions and civil war. There is one notable exception to this rule. I believe that anytime that there is evidence of genocide, there is a moral obligation and a human rights imperative that ALL nations, especially developed nations, have the right and obligation, without permission from the particular nation-state sponsoring the genocide to intervene and do whatever is necessary to protect those being "ethnically cleansed."

Outside of that, I truly believe that, even if a regime is propped up by the U.S. or whatever other world power, the ultimate responsibility for confronting and changing a repressive government is the responsibility of the people living in that place. Real democratic practices requires a ground up process that has only ever proven effective by being developed through a revolutionary process that has cost innumerable lives. Name for me ONE single country in the entire world that is a stable democracy that did not arrive at democracy through a process of war, revolution, popular uprisings, and social agitation by the undeserved. Democracy is only powerful when the people choose it because it is the best vehicle for their well being.

I am super heartened by the popular uprisings taken place right now. Some have already been brutality smacked down while others are clearly headed for or have achieved some level of victory. The worst possible thing that could happen right now would be for the U.S. or any of the European powers to intervene in these organic processes. Let the people fight their fight and find their own voice, and when they reach out to the rest of the world in friendship, let's be ready to give them the support they need to walk tall down their own democratic path.

RuPaul's Drag Race: Get it together!

To quote my best friend, Bebe Zahara Benet, the winner of the first season of RuPaul's Drag Race: GET IT TOGETHER!

I have been watching the third season of RuPaul's Drag Race, and while I think the caliber of the queen's improved over last year's dismal and largely untalented pool of talent (with a couple of notable exceptions), the unnecessary and community damaging drama of this year's season is really reaching the point where I am ready to walk away from the show.

Let me tell you why.

To begin with, the near violence on the show between the drag queens is really fucking out of control. In the first episode, when the two queens up for elimination had to lip synch for their life, I thought Phoenix's crazy ass was going to draw blood. RuPaul made it clear that her behavior was unacceptable....and then two episodes later Mimi Imfurst loses her fucking mind and PICKS India up and slings her over her shoulders.

Let me be clear. I know Mimi. We are acquaintances. I do not know her well, but she has been in my home, and I respect her drag artistry. I know that these shows are edited in a particular manner, and I don't believe she is as whiny and clueless as the show makes her out to be, but when she put her hands on another queen, I was done. It wasn't funny. It wasn't ok. And she deserved to be booted from the show. Love you girl, but that is the Lord's own damn truth. Don't put your hands on another person without their permission. You don't know what that person has lived through or what burdens they are carrying. As a survivor of intense physical assault, I promise you that I wouldn't have screamed when you picked me up, I would have put you in the motherfucking hospital and that is no damn joke. PTSD is nothing to play with.

Up until this current episode, I was LOVING on the South Asian Drag Queen Raja until she opened her mouth to talk shit about Stacey Lane, and, in particular, using Southphobic bullshit about listening to bullfrogs and sipping iced tea on the back porch. Let me be clear with you Raja you dumb heifer, if not for the radical, life threatening and courageous social justice work of SOUTHERN folks, PARTICULARLY queers and people of color, tranny South Asian half-assed drag queens wouldn't have a fucking chance in this world. LEARN SOMETHING before you open your fucked up mouth and start marginalizing people from rural and southern communities. How about that?

I HAVE HAD IT!

It is Black History Month. Hey Raja....do you know WHY we have Black History Month? Because MY great-Uncle Carter G. Woodson, FROM THE SOUTH, made it happen. Hey Raja, did you know that Stonewall only happened because BLACK SOUTHERNERS had shown the way? I am so fucking tired of folks from outside of the South perpetuating stereotypes of Southerners. I am from northern Minnesota. My Dad is from southern West Virginia. The most welcoming place, besides Minneapolis, I have ever lived is ASHEVILLE, NORTH CAROLINA! More friendly than New York, more friendly than the Bay area, but dumb bitches like Raja say shit on tv that reinforce and re-marginalize southerners that continue to lead us forward.

Hey stupid ass Raja....do you know about Southerners on New Ground (SONG?). Do you know about the Suzanne Pharr, and now Pam McMichael, both queer women to lead the HIGHLANDER CENTER in New Market, TN? Do you know anything besides how to tuck your tiny little dick into your ass with a little duct tape? I hope Stacey Lane shoves your ass in a Fry Daddy and eats you on stage.

I am pissed.

The South is going to rise again, but this time it is going to be queer people of color that rise up and claim their due and then beat the shit out of dumb fucks that run off at the mouth on national television.

Creating Change: Claiming My Place

For the last week or so, I was back home in Minneapolis. This trip was specifically to attend the Creating Change Conference. Creating Change, for those of you not in the know, is the largest gathering of LGBT organizers in the world, and it happens each February in a different mid-sized U.S. city. The conference is comprised of two days of day long institutes, plenaries, and hundreds of workshops. It stretches from Wednesday-Sunday, and the 2,500 people in attendance reads like the Who's Who of the movement for queer liberation.

This year was my 10th Creating Change conference since 1998. To give you an idea of where the conferences have gone, I have been to Pittsburgh, Oakland (twice), Atlanta, Milwaukee, St. Louis, Minneapolis, Denver, Miami and a couple that I have forgotten. Good grief.

When you first attend the conference, almost universally, you are overawed by both the content and the names that are walking about. One of my proudest moments was being yelled at by Barbara Smith at my first conference. Yes, THAT Barbara Smith of Kitchen Table Press and the Combahee River Collective. If like me in 1998, you don't know who Barbara Smith is...then you need to Google her now. Fierce. By about your third or fourth Creating Change, if you have continued your work in the movement, you start to realize that though the workshops and plenaries are powerful, the real work happens every day, all day long, in the hotel bar.

Let's be real...the hotel bar of every Creating Change IS the cigar smoke filled back-room of the LGBT movement. As I explained to some straight friends recently, power politics of the HIGHEST degree in the queer movement takes place during this conference. It's a case study in the way that American movements work in the non-profit industrial complex age. And what's even more mind numbing is that while some folks exude an essence of "player," power and access only have a superficial correlation to your current job title. In fact, your personal work is often more greatly valued than whatever position you may currently hold, and since most people at the conference change jobs like I change condoms during the conference, what pays your bills is often far down the list in terms of the access you might have.

I started attending Creating Change when I was a youth of 21 years old (and I had just turned 21...the conference used to happen, annually, in November). For the last 13 years, as I have worked within and outside of the movement, I have still been fairly awed by the conference. There are names and faces that would make me stutter and stammer, and while each year I have enjoyed fairly strong access to the decision makers in the movement, I still felt like one of the whippersnappers trying to figure things out and listening to whatever the hell Mr. Russell Roybal told me about what was REALLY going down.

I heart me some Russell. Yes I do. And I appreciate all the opportunities that he has provided me over the years.

But this year something different took place. For the first time, I had people walking up to me (that I didn't know) saying the same sort of things that I STILL say to folks...things like..."I READ ALL YOUR SHIT AND I LOVE IT!" Basically, I found myself in the shoes of the people that I have often found inspirational. I had people that knew my name, knew my work, read my blog, read things I've written in their college classrooms, and heard me speak at this or that place.

I felt OLD AS HELL.

I also felt extremely and totally humbled AND really very scared. And I mean both of those things.

Let me give you an example. I just finished writing my first novel. I am in the process of reading the whole thing through for the first time, and there are things that I wrote that are really very smart...(hold on...this isn't as egotistical as it sounds)...and while reading what I wrote I seriously could not 1) remember writing it, 2) understand where the poignancy came from, and 3) I fundamentally don't believe that *I* actually wrote it. Now I KNOW that I physically typed the words but there is a part of me that still believes those tapes that say I am not actually smart or fierce or beautiful or strong enough to have written those things.

Ain't life grand.

So, when these people came up to me and were saying these sorts of things, I got scared because I felt like a big old fraud. I was/am afraid that they are going to find out that really....I don't know what the hell I am talking about, that I make up half the shit I say, and that the other half is something I probably got from Wikipedia. Don't you laugh at me.

As the conference went on and person after person (almost always young people), said the same sorts of things, I thought to myself...you know what dude...you need to start believing in yourself. If these strangers can believe the things you put out in the world, don't you think you should?

Yep. I should.

The clincher for me was the fact that I got to present Mr. Kenyon Farrow with an award from Queers for Economic Justice at their annual event. If you don't know Kenyon, and if you don't Google HIM now, then you and I aren't friends.

Let me say that being asked to present someone that is at the core of what it means to be a progressive, radical and transformative change maker was humbling and a shock to the butt. I thought to myself (after I got done crying in front of a hundred people)...that if I am good enough to give an award to Kenyon, then I must not be those things that those tapes inside tell me.

So, this blog is my way of saying that right here and now I am going to go right on ahead and believe that I am smart. I am going to believe that I sometimes have something valuable to say, and that I am worthy of the leadership that has, from time to time, been entrusted to me by my peers.

Thank you all for helping me see myself better.

Let's Be Real

If you don't believe in God--bless your heart. I respect your belief, I support your right to believe it, and for those of you that need material proof of God's existence (He/She/It/Them/They) and haven't received it, I trust your perception of material proof as it applies to your life.

And for all of that, I am psychically, physically, mentally, and spiritually unable to understand your experience. I have always believed in God. I have never had a crisis of faith based in doubt of the existence of the Divine. Please do not get me wrong, I have spent a good part of my life cussing God out for everything from bad dates to my junior year class pictures (please see exhibit A, the offending picture, posted here for your amusement--no...that is NOT the missing third Indigo Girl). And when it comes to proof, I have enough empirical data to make a Nobel Laureate blush. Dr. Erik Streed, the closest person I know to a Nobel Laureate (his graduate advisor won the Nobel Prize in Physics based on the research they did together when Erik was a lab slave) might poo poo my "loose" definition of "empirical," he would be forced to admit that either there is a greater force at work in the universe or there is a yet undiscovered sub-sub-sub-sub atomic particle that he will discover by putting frozen Kool-AID into the CERN Accelerator and adding a dash of lime just as the collider reaches energy output of 3.5 TeV per beam, which he will then redirect using a kaleidoscope while singing "Grease Lightning," and mimicking the mating ritual of the Pakootiekootie bird, which, incidentally, he, himself, discovered in the fossil record and then, using leftover skin cells from Joan Rivers' last face lift, a section of skin from Carnie Wilson's latest gastric bypass, a dash of leftover love lube from a secret butter bath romp between Oprah and Gayle, and an Eggo Waffle, proceeded to clone the Pakootiekootie.

All of that to say is that I am right. Erik is wrong. God exists. Now let me tell you why.

I tried to relapse today with all of my might. I mean short of selling my ass for drugs or training Mimzy to run a meth lab out of her kennel, I gave it the good old addicts try. And let me tell you it was sneaky. Hold on to this trip into the the Misfiring Synapses of Brandon's Frontal Lobe. David and I are moving our open relationship in to a broader scope. I have actually been really proud of myself for not completing giving in to my abandonment issues or losing my mind over things that a year ago would have had me calling on the name of Jesus and raising the TSA security level to whatever the hell comes after orange. But there have been things that have stuck in my craw (and rightfully so). Last night, I couldn't fall asleep because my brain was desperately trying to figure out what the hell was at the core of my discomfort/annoyance/etc. Around 3am, I figured it out. This morning, I didn't trip. And after a rocky moment or two, David and I had a sleepy, half-finished, but ok conversation.

Still with me? Good.

I actually recently dealt really well with am online situation here at home. And we laughed about it. But today is where the synapses were listening to Katy Perry and took that song Fireworks quite literally. So, I figured...hey... I can look at Craig's List. Well, since i am looking at Craig's List, I might as well look at Manhunt. Oh well since this gay with a delicious booty messaged me on Manhunt, and I am on Manhunt anyway, I might as well read the email. Well since I am READING the email, I might as well respond. Oh. wait. what. You are partying (aka crystal meth), well I can entertain that notion. Well, you know, just because I go meet this guy at his place and there is crystal meth there doesn't mean that I have to do it. It was right about there...just after I got out of the shower and had gotten dressed and was about to head out the door that the Lord took a hand. I decided to call the guy just to firm things up. And he didn't answer. I called again, and again, and about 40 more times, until the guy shut down his phone. I was stomping around my house cussing and kicking and screaming and pissed off. I was acting a fool, but in my head, it was all very justified and logical. It wasn't about the drugs! It was about this person that would have had me standing outside of his front door and not answered. It was about the lack of manners and the general upbringing of this heathen with the great ass.

Here's where God intervened again.

I caught myself in the mirror, and at that moment I realized just how ridiculous I was acting. I had rationalized myself about a minute away from doing something really fucking dumb (in the past, I would have realized it, and I would have kept right on going. Hell, YESTERDAY, I would have realized it and kept right on going). And let me not be the saint here. I did, once I calmed myself down, sit back down at the computer and spend about five minutes checking out Manhunt and seeing if there were any other opportunities that could get me out the door and high. That is when two things happened. I slammed down the cover of my computer, walked towards the bathroom and chanted to myself, "FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT."

Then I prayed.

The Lord didn't answer. He texted.

Rude.

Actually, it was a friend of mine that lives in my hood, and he texted to tell me that he had just gotten laid off. Within one minute another friend texted to ask if I would go with him to Callen Lorde to get an HIV test done. It may not have been Jesus per se on the line, but the Lord works in mysterious ways, and he spent all that time with 12 men in the desert, so it makes sense that he would use the gays as his post-crucifixtion messenger. GayT&T!!

Nothing like a dose of real for real life problems to put your momentary psychosis into check. And all of this ties into another God-moment I had recently.

Last Friday, I got to see a woman that I love deeply and dearly. Her name is Makeeba Browne. Keeba and I lived together for only about four months when I was out in Oakland. We moved into our house a day apart. She was going through some things when she moved in. She had just moved to the Bay. She had lost someone very close to her not more than a year before. She was black woman in a white ass world, and she had carried a lot on her shoulders. Some of that was those things that life puts on us that aren't really ours but we have to carry and learn to set down anyway. Some of it was things that she picked up because, well, too many of us learn that we were meant to suffer. During our time together, I was also a hot mess, do not let me tell all her tea and none of mine. But if you scroll back in this blog, you can read mine, in detail, with footnotes. Anyway, I digress. Over the course of those four months I learned several things about Makeeba: 1) she was absolutely beautiful beyond her own comprehension. Real, true, amazing beauty. 2) Behind her beautifully sharp tongue there was a beautifully vulnerable spirit that, if you made the mistake of confusing vulnerability with weakness, would snap your neck if necessary. 3) She was wise. Like old old old ancestor wise and deeper than I can ever hope to be. I am not being self-deprecating here. This girl is wise like still rivers that run deep, chocolate brown currents and sensual eddies that whisper gettin' over stories to Guinea-children. I have moments of clarity, but Makeeba is one of my teachers. 4) I loved this woman desperately. There is a story I won't share, but she will know that there was one night that we spent together, and she may have thought that I was comforting and taking care of her, but that night, in her rawness, she was holding on to me and lifting me up. For real for real.

So, Keeba and I met for breakfast last Friday. Seeing her walking down that street was like seeing the sunlight finally come to understand its own brightness. Keeba always dazzles me. But this day, I was almost blinded. Keeba ain't no saint. Lord no she aint, and she inherited the same hoochie gene that I got, but even when she is not ready to DO the work she knows she needs to do within herself...she KNOWS it needs to be done. And I could see that this woman had been WORKING. At one point in our conversation, Keebers said something really profound. I can't remember the exact words, but it was something like, "I know that I am supposed to be here. I know that the universe wants me here. Because try as I might to take myself out of Creation and do what I am not supposed to be doing. The Universe takes care of me! The UNIVERSE takes care of me.' And she was right. She and I have found ourselves in situations that, quite frankly, if they had gone the wrong way would have meant that we wouldn't be here right now. That isn't an exaggeration. If the Universe had closed its unsleeping eye for a quick minute, I woulnd't be writing this blog right now. And let me tell you, when it comes to addiction, I have lost people I know to this disease. I can name three people that I went to rehab with that are now dead. And, truthfully, there ain't a lick of difference between what they were doing and what I have done. Situation might be different. Particulars might be different, but in the end, the risks were the same. And anyone that plays Roulette can tell you...when your number hits twice in a row...and then another number hits twice in a row back to back....that right there...is the finger of God spinning that wheel. And we never know when they are going to call a change of dealer.