Distraction

Do you ever just feel completely distracted, distant, or burdened? Then, boy, do I have a solution for you!!! ...

Just kidding. I thought that might be witty and annoying enough for everyone to endure. Can't you imagine the Oxy Clean guy yelling that to the TV?  And then he pulls out a bucket of chicken grease or something and tries to sell it off.  I'd probably buy some.  That guy is very persuasive.

But seriously.  

I am very preoccupied right now.  I'm ready for my schooling to be finished, not only for this semester but for the summer too.  I'm feeling very trapped within this academic process because of the commitments I have made to do well in school and graduate with a certain GPA.  I can't slack off now, but there seem to be more important, more serious issues at hand in this world than whether I go to class or turn in projects on time.  It's basically two character traits at war with each other.  We've got "desire to impact the world and create social change" over here in this corner and "wants to excel at school and fulfill her professors' expectations" in the other corner.  Are you ready to rumble?  I know who's going to win and it breaks my heart.  My mind isn't here, it's in Chicago with the others who are still camped out, protesting the war in Uganda and abduction of child soldiers.  I have to be here though.  Education is a key facet in social change and I need to learn in order to do.  I know this, but dammit, I don't like it.  Not one bit.

Neko Case, Middle Cyclone, Middle Cyclone

Baby, why'm I worried now, 
did someone make a fool of me 
'fore I could show 'em how it's done? 
Can't give up actin' tough, 
it's all that I'm made of. 
Can't scrape together quite enough 
to ride the bus to the outskirts 
of the fact that I need love. 

There were times that I tried, 
one for every glass of water 
that I spilled next to the bed, 
wretching pennies in a boiling well 
in a dream that it once becomes 
a foundry of mute and heavy bells. 
They shake me deaf and dumb 
say, "Someone made a fool of me 
'fore I could show 'em how it's done." 

It was so clear to me 
that it was almost invisible. 
I lie across the path waiting, 
just for a chance to be a spiderweb 
trapped in your lashes. 
For that, I would trade you my empire for ashes. 
But I choke it back, how much I need love...

Tick Tock

I retreat into very sad states sometimes.  Today, it progressively became worse as I started to watch "Everything is Illuminated." It's a beautifully cinematic film about a Jewish boy who travels to Ukraine to find the story of his grandfather.  It only references the horrors that the Jews endured during those years, but nevertheless it just broke my heart.  I still am unable to fathom the pure distaste one can have for a single group of people, based on their identity.  The pain, the destruction, the complete disregard for others.  

This idea of an "other."  It's always among us.  It literally causes me pain.  I think about the babies who are born into the minority group in some forgotten land, who have no choice about their ethnicity, their blood, their gender, their race, but yet are forced into horrific circumstances and are at the brunt of so much hostility and mutilation.  It's unfair.  It's completely disgusting the power we have over each other.

And it all comes down to identity.  Sure, similarities in genetics can group people together, but it is the weight we place on the symbolic nature of an identity which is the root of division.  It is what we create as a society which provides the differences.  We create the hate, but do we stop it?

I need to turn this anger into something good...

You Might Be a Feminist If...

I have had so many ideas and concepts on my mind lately. They are really starting to mess with my mind.

Gender. Is. Frustrating. I'm learning a lot about gender and the inequality that surrounds it, whether it's in found in the home or in the workforce. Roles, norms, and the like construct my life and everyone else's. Gender is connected to the biological sex one has, but shouldn't be synonymous. I think gender ambiguity is a beautiful thing. To understand yourself that much, to not conform to the gender socialization that our society constructs is inspirational. I'm not having a gender identity crisis or anything of the sorts, but I am trying to reconcile my womanhood with the expectations society places on me because I am a woman.

Brief example: This weekend I went home to visit my dear Canadian cousins who had traveled down South for the weekend. It was myself, my aunt, my 3 male cousins, my brother, my dad and my uncle who were at Aunt Janice's for dinner Saturday night. Aunt Janice had gladly hosted everyone for the UNC game and dinner, which was delish. Aunt Janice had cooked, it was our responsibility to clean up (that's the universal rule, right?). No one got up. Part of me didn't want to do it either simply because I didn't want to conform to the expectation of "the woman's place is in the kitchen". But I knew Aunt Janice would start to clean up and that wasn't fair or right. So I went and cleaned up. But I only cleaned up and then asked my cousins to wash the pots and pans, as a form of resistance. Why weren't they inclined to clean up after dinner? Why weren't they inclined to offer assistance? Why was I? Is it associated with my femaleness? Have their mothers and sisters been the ones doing that their whole lives?

These questions are relentless in my head. I didn't feel obligated because of my womanhood, I wanted to help because it was right and fair. However, I resented it. I was complying to the roles that have been cut out for me in society. I am more than a washing machine, I am more than fulfillment of expectations. By default, I was reifying tradition and patriarchy to my male relatives, that the matters of the household would be taken care of by the women.

It's a personal struggle, you see. I place a large emphasis of my identity on being woman. However it is more than traditional - I am a woman and therefore am strong, persistent, independent, successful. My definition of myself as a woman does not necessarily match up with what society considers. And that makes my heart pound. The unfairness of it all.

Pursuit

I am reading "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. This is an excerpt from the book that made me cry, simply and unforced.

"Even in the most unlikely and conservative of places, you can find sometimes this glimmering idea that God might be bigger than our limited religious doctrines have taught us. In 1954, Pope Pius XI, of all people, sent some Vatican delegates on a trip to Libya with these written insructions: 'Do NOT think that you are among Infidels. Muslims attain salvation, too. The ways of Providence are infinite.'

But doesn't that make sense? That the infinite would be, indeed...infinite? That even the most holy amongst us would only be able to see scattered pieces of the eternal picture at any given time? And that maybe if we could collect those pieces and compare them, a story about God would begin to emerge that resembles and includes everyone? And isn't our individual longing for transcendence all just part of this larger human search for divinity? Don't we each have the right to not stop seeking until we get as close to the sources of wonder as possible? Even if it means coming to India and kissing trees in the moonlight for a while?" (Page 208)

Yesterday I went to a viewing of a short documentary about the Zapatistas in Chiapas, Mexico. The Zapatistas are a group of people indigenous to Mexico through the Mayan ancestry and whose land has been taken away by the Mexican government, leaving them poor and without a means for sustainable living. The professor who presented it said something very powerful. He said that this is our struggle too. There isn't their poverty and their poverty and their poverty, but it is a universal poverty, it is our problem. He went on to say that it isn't "doing for" others that is a means to overcome poverty - that's all well and good and can be beneficial. It's not even a "doing with" others - working together to overcome. It's a "being with." It's a deep connection and relationship with the people who are dealing with the problems and a commitment to be poor with them until their fight is won.

The idea of social activism has always made my bones tingle. I tend to give high value to macro-level policy reformation and creation. But there is need from both the top and the bottom to invoke social change. I just want to be a part of it - that's all I ask. A part of the global movement towards equality in all measures of the word.

I Fell Asleep Laughing

I'm pretty sure Valerie and I were secretly in a movie last night. Let me tell you what happened.

We were sitting at Natty Greene's just drinking our beers chatting and watching the craziness around us. These two guys approach us and thus the awkwardness ensues. They ask us if they can sit down and we didn't really respond with an affirmative, but they took their places on the bar stools. Names: Andrew and Peter. Handshakes: fishlike and gimp. Attire: Button ups, pleated khakis, and blazers. I think the sequence of our conversation started with them disclosing that they were from Guilford, and then they asked where we went to school. I asked what they were studying, where they were from, etc. (This was the type of conversation for the most part - me asking them questions while Valerie just sat there, fiddling with her engagement ring!) Oh, man, so Peter asks us if we have gone to any concerts lately. Ohhh, man - this is where it gets good. I tell them I mainly go and see local bands, nothing mainstream. And then they proceed to tell us how much in love with 80s music they are. They riddle off all the shows they've gone to - REO Speedwagon, Alice Cooper, Tears for Fears. I somehow list some 80s songs that I listened to in high school and Andrew tells me which album it was off of and when it was released. Valerie and I both drink our beers as fast as possible and tell them we are off going to another bar. Easy escape.

But it's not over. We part ways with an awkward handshake. We can't believe what just happened. We go to McCoul's to debrief and after about an hour I go to the bathroom. When I return, lo and behold, Andrew and Peter have arrived. I sit down and Valerie is stiffling her laughter so much that she is crying. We don't understand! We don't talk with them much and as we finish our beers and get ready to leave an 80s song starts to play. We look over and they are singing along with it, nodding their heads to the beat. Perfect ending.