To the women who harassed me at the pool.

i've struggled writing this post. i meant to write it days ago, but it's proving to be more difficult than i anticipated. i'm pretty sure i know why.

sometimes i get made fun of, looked at, whispered about, and called names. it doesn't happen a lot and, honestly, i don't usually mind all that much. the most contentious space for me seems to be washrooms. i have a lot of privilege though - i'm white, i'm able-bodied, i live in a progressive city, and i grew up middle class. equipped with all that privilege, i often walk into a washroom feeling a bit antagonistic, ready to challenge anyone who dares tell me where i do and don't belong.

this may sound strange, but i far prefer outright harassment. if someone takes issue with my gender identity or my sexuality, i want them to come out and say it to my face. when they opt instead to whisper it to their friends or communicate through caustic stares, the onus is on me to confront them if i want to have a dialogue. and this is where our story begins.

last week i went to school early to swim as i often do. typically i go with a couple of friends, but classes are over, so i went on my own. i had finished changing and was about to head to the showers before starting my swim. at this point, a couple women came into the area of the changing room that i was in. immediately upon seeing me, they shared some intense sort of reaction. it was startling. for context, it was about 7:30 in the morning. i was definitely still waking up. it took me a little bit to realize what was going on. however, from the changing rooms to the showers to the lanes to the whirlpool back to the showers and the changing rooms, they were always there. they were always looking at me and whispering and laughing with another friend. they communicated to me with a quickness and sharpness that made me feel judged, humiliated and profoundly uncomfortable.

they never spoke to me. since we never directly interacted, i began to think i was probably paranoid. chances were i was making this up, creating their hostility. but why when i finished a lap were they waiting at the end of the lane glaring at me? why, when i switched lanes, were they still keeping track of my whereabouts? i'd finish a lap and look up to see all three of them from the other end of the pool, staring at me. it was not a friendly stare.

when i finished my swim, they were in the whirlpool. i always go into the whirlpool when i finish. it's the best part! i figured i should skip it though. it would just be the four us. no, that's ridiculous. i would go in and, anyway, i was probably making this situation up. i went into the whirlpool. the energy was so remarkably hostile, that i felt honestly nervous about changing in front of them. i left quickly to get a head start.

i was changing as quickly as i could. they arrived as i was putting on my binder. they laughed at me, and i turned to face the wall. they were clearly good friends, but they kept their towels glued to their bodies and their backs to me as they changed. people were walking around naked, but these women were painstakingly meticulous about not being exposed. of course, it's totally possible that this is always how they changed and that it had nothing to do with me, but it felt very personal.

i was flustered and trying to leave as quickly as possible. i walked out the wrong way on accident and had to turn around and walk past them again. when i passed them, they were talking about me. we all caught eyes for a moment. they looked at me and looked briefly, maybe, embarrassed but it might just have been the shock of being caught in the act. they put their hands over their mouth. i kept walking, and i heard them laugh. i paused and turned to walk back and confront them.

here's the issue: they never said anything to me. they harassed me for an hour. for an entire hour they made me feel like less and less of a person, but they did it so insidiously that there was nothing i could grasp ahold of in order to confront them. i was left with 'feelings' - a sense of hostility. as i stood paused in the hall, ready to go back and start something, i realized how it would go. i would say: do you have a problem? and they would simply say: no. that would be it. what recourse did i really have? what could i really say? would i tell them that i had seen them whispering and pointing? to which i'm sure they would respond with an apology instead of an explanation for what they were 'actually' talking about. it was a no-win situation for me. confronting them would not make me feel better about what had happened, so i left.

i felt horrible though. i took me longer than usual to shake off the interaction. it certainly wasn't the first time i've been harassed. it wasn't really the worst time, either. i struggled to understand why i couldn't seem to get over it, why i felt so upset. i think i've figured it out. i think it was the insidiousness of it along with how outnumbered i felt. there were three of them and just one of me, and the way they went about it left no room for a dialogue. i felt like i was just receiving hostility for an hour and had no way to respond without coming off as a belligerent, paranoid person. i felt backed into a corner and powerless, and that's why it seemed so much worse.

i guess the point of this post is to regain a bit of that power through telling the story.

Stop spending so much on your tomboy

i tend to be late to the celebrity gossip game. i also tend to be late to new fads and latest trends in general. it's kind of an anomaly that i have a blog. ask any of my close friends and they will tell you that i'm actually very 'bad' at the internet. i know the internet is this incredibly vast resource that i could be utilizing in a much more interesting way, but i just have no idea how to go about doing it. so then i get bored or frustrated and go do something else.

for years, i've learned about key pop culture icons and issues through reading bitch magazine, a publication my sister turned me onto when i was younger. i want to make something clear though: this is not something that i'm touting as being awesome. i'm not proud of my lack of pop knowledge. i think pop culture is fascinating! i'm just really, really bad at keeping up.

all of this is really just a disclaimer to the fact that i just became aware of this whole shiloh jolie-pitt gender identity crisis story-line.

what! how did i not know this? someone who probably knows me too well snagged a left-behind tabloid with a nannies reveal on on suri cruise and shiloh jolie-pitt. i'd like to point out that i also learned many other interesting things in this tabloid, like all about prince harry's nudey photos. fascinating.

a moment of catch-up for folks who may also be new to this whole suri and shiloh business. suri is the daughter of the infamous scientologist (and actor?) tom cruise and katie holmes (ahem, joey potter). shiloh is the 'daughter' of angelina jolie and brad pitt. both of these kids are six years old and have been compared to each other for years. moreover, both of these kids, apparently, have some serious issues that will inevitably land them in a therapist's office (according to star magazine and unnamed sources - the best kind of sources). this would be a good place to say that all of 'the information' in this post comes from what i read in the tabloid. it is in no way credible.

the premise of the article i devoured yesterday was that suri and shiloh are both suffering from significant 'abnormalities' which their parents overindulge due to a) their financial ability to and b) their guilt over their inability to spend enough time together. suri and shiloh's 'issues' are laid out and compared, then a "board-certified psychiatrist" chimes in.

suri's problems revolve around an overindulgence of material items. suri has her own credit card. suri has a separate bedroom for her imaginary friends. suri likes to eat off of gold plates. this proclivity for consumerism is compared to shiloh's desire to be a boy. that's right, shiloh's main issue is that 'she' prefers to present as a boy and, in fact, has stated that she wants to be a boy. [note: i'm using female pronouns in quotes for shiloh because i have no way of knowing how shiloh actually identifies but at least want to acknowledge some instability of the feminine]. initially chalked up to imitation of 'her' father, the psychiatrist in the article furthers the analysis of shiloh's troubles by claiming: "only having boy haircuits, wanting to be a boy - that's more than being a tomboy. it's closer to a gender-identity problem" (emphasis mine).

let's review. there are two six year old children of celebrities being compared in this article. they are both presented as having boundary issues. the article states that whatever they want, they get - ie, they are overindulged. for suri, this accounts to lavish material goods. for shiloh, this means not preventing 'her' from dressing in the clothes that feel most comfortable for 'her' identity and engaging in the type of play that 'she' wants. how are these two the same? oh, that's right, they're not.

the article does end by distinguishing between them. one of these issues (unchecked consumerism versus gender exploration) is clearly far worse than the other. according to the board-certified psychiatrist, the answer is obvious. shiloh has deeper problems.

i know, this is a tabloid. however, tabloids are designed to sell. they aim for mass appeal. what does it say about where north american society is at in terms of creating space for gender variance that this is the kind of popular talk around shiloh? why does it even seem appropriate for 'us' to invade this young kid's life and make wildly unfounded conclusions about the potential harm of letting kids explore gender? if anything, i think this article demonstrates that gender is not losing its significance as a category in mainstream north american society. we use gender to understand other people. if we can't immediately identify their gender, that is a problem. how do we know if we can be sexually attracted to them without being gay, for instance? the horror! if we can't identify someone's gender, that is a problem with them (or their parents, as with shiloh), and it should be remedied immediately. that way we can go on our merry way, content in where we stand in this genderist society.

but maybe ask some of us who have worked to understand our gender and the ways that it just cannot fit into the so beloved binaries about what a difference the intentional, active creation of space for gender exploration would have made. i can't speak for everyone and would never try to, so i'll just say that for this genderqueer, it would have been a world of a difference to have had that space. maybe i should have been indulged. maybe it shouldn't have just been about being a tomboy or a girly-girl, which is just another false binary that obscures lived experience. maybe meeting kids where they're at and validating their experience is the key to turning gender identity 'problems' into just gender identities.

I'm coming out...as a grinch.

i feel like the grinch. it's not christmas, but that's not the type of grinch i feel like. i think i'm the 'gay equality campaign' grinch. what is the target of my grinchiness? well,  there's a new song and accompanying video that is being held up as the next anthem of the gay movement. in case this video hasn't shown up in your internet world yet, here it is

heralded as equality's new anthem, 'same love' is a hip hop song about how okay it is to be gay. the video focuses on an interracial, wealthy gay male couple during their journey to marriage and beyond. the song is being used as part of the referendum 74 campaign in washington to support gay marriage.

there is a lot to this song that is really positive. macklemore and lewis (responsible for the song) discuss stereotyping and some of the oppressions faced by queer people today. they also criticize the prevalence of 'that's gay' in hip hop music. i'm going to go out on a limb and say the issue of prejudice isn't widely covered in music, so good on them! how wonderful to have people singing along to lyrics that promote positive associations with marginalized identities!

i said i feel like a grinch, so clearly it's not all sunshine and rainbows for me. the first time i listened to this i was just getting into the song when the chorus (sung by mary lambert) started up. here are the lyrics to the chorus: and i can't change, even if i tried, even if i wanted to...

wait, why am i trying to change? why do i want to? there is nothing about being queer that makes me want to lift a finger toward heterosexuality. i do not mean to discount the obstacles faced daily by queer folks (including myself). however, let's be clear about the cause of these difficulties. queerness is not inherently problematic or inherently a struggle. it is society's reaction to queerness that results in barriers and challenges. the wording that a queer person can't change even if they tried or even if they wanted to  suggests that there are reasons to change. there is a strong discourse around the idea that queer people are born queer, so we can't change and you have to tolerate us because there is nothing we can do about it! i do not see this as helpful language. folded into that argument is the suggestion that if queer people could try really hard to change their ways, they not only should but that they would want to. regardless of whether or not people do choose to be queer (which is a blog post for another day), the language in this chorus insinuates that there are reasons why queer people would try or want to not be queer. i don't see that an affirmation of my identity.

i also have an issue with the underlying theme of the song, which is that it's all the same love. gay, straight, queer, bi - everyone loves the same, so what's the difference? an interesting discussion around this topic surfaced during the gay marriage debate in iowa. a strapping american eagle scout raised by two moms stood up in the state senate to proclaim that there was absolutely nothing different about being raised by two women in a queer household. in response, a young queer woman wrote that she was also raised by two moms and she felt that growing up in a queer household was a different experience than being raised within a heterosexual one. unfortunately, i can't find the article, but i'm going to keep looking and then i'll post it. the point, however, is not whether zach wahls or this young woman is right. the point is why is the 'gay equality' movement so invested in presenting queerness as the same? this framing raises similar questions as the chorus: do i want to be the same? why do i want to be the same? i don't.

fluidity and variation are two of the beautiful elements of queerness. proclamations of sameness and attempts to 'market' queerness as 'just like everybody else' actually work to erase some of the distinguishing, liberating, and empowering aspects of queerness itself. many queer people fight not be reduced to boxes. so why is the movement so interested in fitting entire identities into pre-established boxes?

i guess for me, it's not important that everyone loves the same. every time i've fallen in love, it's felt different, so i suppose i'm a bit skeptical that everyone does in fact love the same. again, not the point. really, i think the argument that everyone loves the same is weak. the point is that no one should be in position to tell others how, whom, how many, when, why (etc) to love. who has the right to make those decisions for others? i don't trust anyone to make decisions about love for me. i barely trust myself. we don't all love the same, and that's a beautiful thing because we can learn from each other, grow in our ideas about love, and change.

i've had this post in my mind for a while now, but i was feeling hesitant to really come into my grinch identity. however, as the internet community gets so excited about this wonderfully produced anthem, i can't fight it anymore. i take issue with these messages. they do not represent me. i think it's important to make that known, and if that makes me a grinch, well, i can't change, even i tried...even if i wanted to.

Only super hot women get the blues.

there's probably no reason why life needs to take its toll on my blog updating, but i guess that is what has happened. it's been a while. life certainly got in the way. i guess i just needed something particularly provocative to pull me out of myself and push me back into the blogosphere. well, i found it.

on september 21st jezebel ran an article [http://jezebel.com/5945355/super-hot-women-more-likely-to-have-super-painful-endometriosis] with the headline: super hot women more likely to have super painful endometriosis. i went right to it for a couple of reasons. first, i have endometriosis, so i'm particularly interested in 'research' on it. mostly though, that's a fairly bogus proposition for any study. it sounded more like something i would read in the onion. after checking to make sure i was accidently reading the onion, i checked out the article.

the blogger covering the story mixed the report with a healthy balance of incredulity, sarcasm, and the facts of the case. basically, some italian doctors got 300 women (a shockingly small number of participants for a study like this) together according to three groups. 1) 100 who identified as having retrovaginal endometriosis (this is a really bad type); 2) 200 who identified as having regular endometriosis; and 3) 100 who didn't have it. this next part is amazing and really makes me wonder what they wrote down on their ethics application. after getting these 300 women together, the doctors measured their bmi, breast size, and waist-to-hip ratio. yes, you read that correctly. in fact, go back and re-read it. then, just to make sure there weren't too many biases impacting the data, they had two doctors who didn't know the endometriosis status of the women rate their physical attractiveness on a scale of 1-5. but wait, there's more! wary of making false claims, the doctors added a questionnaire component to the study. they asked about sexual history. why? obviously because women who have sex before age 18 are hotter than women who don't. duh.

through this finely crafted study, the doctors found that women with retrovaginal endometriosis were more likely to have small bmi's and big breasts and were more likely to have intercourse before age 18. the doctors thought it might have something to do with estrogen, but only because high levels of estrogen have already been linked with endometriosis.

this study is terrifying. besides the fact that it is very poorly done, it is based on highly subjective ideas about what it means to be attractive. you know what, that's not even my biggest problem with this blatantly offensive research. as someone who deals with endometriosis, i have been consistently frustrated by the lack of substantive research in this area. researchers consistently understudy health issues associated with female bodies. it is both not surprising and immensely depressing to see that when a study in this topic was funded and completed, that study was so entirely bogus, so entirely offensive, and so entirely pointless. how in the world would it help anyone with endometriosis to know the likelihood that they would have lower bmi's and bigger breasts? this study provides absolutely nothing for people who are actually experiencing pain.

The stop and frisk policy is racist.

i made the mistake of reading the comments section at the end of an article in the new york times online. the article was posted today under the headline: majority in city see police as favoring whites, poll finds.

unsurprisingly (to anyone who regularly reads the new york times), this article was a disappointment. the poll had a large margin of error, and i'm dubious of the research tactics. however, the article itself is the real letdown. there is very little 'new' in this 'news' story. in two pages, the journalist takes readers through very tired conversations and arguments: the stop and frisk policy isn't perfect but something must be done, at least new york is dealing better with crime than detroit, and, the kicker, white people commit less crime. this last argument is the one that lingers. this last argument is the one the article is really about.

the article points to the glaring racial divide in opinions about the stop and frisk policy. with less emphasis, it also notes the glaring racial divide in how the stop and frisk policy is implemented. underlying this divide is the false belief that white people just commit less crime. fueled by this inaccuracy, white people across the nation, but specifically in new york for our purposes, contend that people of color should be stopped and frisked more frequently. it's about proportions, really.

of course, this argument is based on false ideas of criminality and an overwhelming lack of attention to institutional racism. do these white people really believe that people of color are that much more likely to commit crimes? because they're, what - bad people at heart? or is it possible that people of color are dealing with a different system than white people? and that 'white people crime' doesn't seem to register with society, like corporate crime? i mean, what is more likely - people of color are inherently more prone to commit crime than white people or there is something going on an institutional level?

the racist arguments which are hinted at but not fully explored by the article are delved into more fully (and bluntly) in the comments section, where suddenly everyone has a statistic about the crime rates of young black men. i wasn't surprised by what i read, but honestly, how depressing is it that i'm not surprised by rampant racism?

What's in a name?

Quotable phrases from English literature aside, I would venture to say a whole lot.

Names are tricky. People name us when we're born (usually before), and we rarely have a say in the matter. Some people are named from books, as statements, as homages. Some people, like my sister, are named for family members. Her name carries with it the legacy of our families escape from Eastern Europe and memories of a grandmother we never met. I suppose the hope is that we will grow into our names, like I grew into the incredibly large ears I had as a baby.

For some this works; for others, this system presents a problem. What if your name just doesn't feel right? What if it doesn't reflect who you think you are or who you want to be? Names are salient aspects of our identities. Every time we introduce ourselves to another person, we exchange names. Identities become attached to our names.

Over the past few years, I have been working on understanding my gender identity. It's a complicated process. It's also a process that makes me feel more whole. Integral to this process is finding a comfortable balance between the external presentation/others' perception of my gender and the way I feel about my gender. Since my name is a very obvious, external identity marker, I've ended up thinking on and struggling with it a lot.

Now, I have a very feminine name. At times I'm hesitant to introduce myself with it. My name gets pulled from me because it's my name and people always want to know your name. It doesn't fit me, though, and people tend to notice that. That's why I tend to acquire nicknames that are either androgynous or masculine. As my housemates in Vancouver turned into friends, they told me they weren't really going to call me Larissa anymore. They had come up with a better name. They were right.

My new name just felt better. I felt confident introducing myself. Finally, my name felt more like it belonged to me than the name I had been lugging around for 26 years. It was exciting and empowering to impact my identity in this way.

Initially I only used this new name in my social life and not in my academic one. I introduced myself as 'Lars' to new people but remained 'Larissa' in school. It did not take long for this duality to start feeling uncomfortable and for members of both worlds to start overlapping in complicated ways. There are many people in Vancouver who have only ever known me as Lars and don't even recognize the name 'Larissa' as being associated with me. It's exciting to take control of how I present myself and create this shift; however, it's also a bit overwhelming.

When I used to think about changing my name, what stopped me was always my fear of permanency (a constant fear that I have regarding almost everything save for, very surprisingly, tattoos). I am afraid of 1) ultimately changing my mind about the name I choose 2) the way other people (mostly people from my past) will react and 3) what kind of statement it is regarding my gender identity. Changing my name has always felt so decisive, and, to me, gender is anything but decisive.

Using both names has made salient how detached I feel from 'Larissa'. Though I had struggled with my name for years and never actually felt like it suited me, it wasn't until I had the workable option of another one at my disposal that I could understand what it felt like to be comfortable with my name. There were a few key people in my life who picked up on the ways in which 'Larissa' was not working for me and who helped me gain the confidence to finally take another name. I guess I'd just like to thank them.

Just like a little boy

when i was a little kid, my mother took me shopping in the boy's department. we both thought the clothes just fit me better. now that i'm 26, i'm back shopping in the boy's department because, again, the clothes just fit me better.

recently my housemate and i were at a thrift shop looking for softball-appropriate clothes when we stumbled down into the boy's section. it was like making a miraculous discovery! in one place there were rows of clothes that i feel comfortable in and want to wear...and they were all in my size! well, to be fair, many of them were far to small. however, plenty looked as if they had been made for me.

i disdain shopping for clothes. mostly, i loathe clothes shopping because it is nearly impossible for me to find clothes. women's departments overwhelmingly stock feminine styles, cuts, and prints. if you're not into or don't feel comfortable in flowers or tops that accentuate your breasts, the women's section is the wrong section for you. since i'm small, i can't shop in the men's department. i look like a child trying on their dad's clothes in even the smallest men's clothes. it's sad. i have a really hard time finding clothes and often end up wearing a lot of things that don't fit me well because it's just too difficult (or too expensive) to do anything else.

enter the boy's department! despite the fact that i feel a bit like a creep sifting through clothes meant for small boys alongside mostly mothers who give me suspicious eyes, i have no qualms about shopping in the boy's section. of course, i doubt i will ever find a pair of pants or shorts there - boys have no hips.

even though shopping in the boy's section provides a nice solution for my clothes issue, i think it would be far nicer if there were (affordable) places for folks with non-conforming genders to shop and not feel judged or like their bodies are wrong. face it, when there are no clothes for your presentation or your body, it feels like you don't exist. this issue has been getting a little bit of attention from the fat positivity movement of late - if stores are not stocking clothes big enough for actual people, then the stores are essentially disregarding these people's existence. well, bodies exceed the fashion industry's standard expectations and bodies present in all sorts of limitless ways. wouldn't it be great if all the people unsatisfied with the dominant standards imposed by the fashion industry opted out of participating at all? wouldn't it be great if there were alternatives? maybe some of the folks left out by this system will create some other choices and we could all support those instead!

Tear up your gaydar quiz

i started reading the blog effing dykes when i was living in seattle. it was all the rage among my friends. over the past couple years, effing dykes has received a lot of attention and krista, its author, even more. the blog, which professes to assist struggling gays with their gaydar, has always irked me, but i keep reading it much in the same way i watched the entire six seasons of the L Word (more than once). sometimes it feels like there are just so few options in queer media that many of us settle for remarkably subpar products just to feel included.

typically i read the new effing dyke's post and grumble a bit about it, then i move on. not this time though. this time i'm grumbling onto the internet. partially because second term has ended and i've re-committed myself to blogging regularly. partially because i think i've finally realized this may be what the internet is about.

this past week krista posted one of her 'gaydar quizzes'. these are the crux of effing dykes. she set up the scenario of a gay woman (who is not high femme) going shopping. readers are supposed to select which items this fictional character would pick out, given our knowledge of her as a 'lesbian'. we know nothing else about her.

okay, before even diving into how this is really just an exercise in reinforcing tired stereotypes, i want to address the problem of language in this blog. krista alternates somewhat haphazardly among queer, dyke, gay, lesbian, and a litany of slang for these populations. however, who is she actually talking about and to? is she talking about cisgendered women who fuck other cisgendered women? that's a distinct population and, importantly, distinct from queer folks who approach gender and sexuality with more fluidity. these are not words that can just be interchanged without intention. (i will use her words in this post, but in quotes)

moving right along! the outcome of the gaydar quiz is a grand theory about a universal truth of 'lesbian' fashion: simplicity and functionality. according to krista, these are two of the cornerstones of 'lesbian' style. she discovers this by observing the 'gay' population and asking "why did i think they looked gay? what did that even mean?" these are good and important questions to ask, i think. in earlier posts i've written about why i believe it's important to be able to recognize community. how and why you know someone else is queer is an interesting, complicated, and potentially problematic endeavor. krista goes in a different direction, however. from these questions, she develops her theory by noting overwhelming similarities in style. now i would say another question would be: what is the point of fashion?

clearly that's a huge question that cannot be answered by me. still, i think it's important to examine fashion a bit. fashion and style have many uses and are employed differently by different people, certainly. however, one point is presenting an image of yourself to society so you can be read the way you want to be. we learn by observing those around us and by living in a media saturated society how to dress ourselves into these images. if you wanted to become a punk, how hard would it really be for you to think of the types of outfits and accessories you would need to at least craft a passing image for that community?

we rely on stereotypes constantly, especially when deducing information about someone based on their appearance. effing dykes reinforces these stereotypes constantly. why are all of these 'women' so recognizable as 'gay'? maybe because they are intentionally presenting themselves as such. they know what to wear in order to fit in to the queer community because the messages are all around, including in krista's blog posts. have you ever gone out at night and realized that everyone seems to be wearing a variation on the same theme? this is not a coincidence.

the problem is these are stereotypes. they are not universally true at all. who do they leave out? in what ways do they streamline what it looks like to be queer? krista points out that no one sees her as 'gay' at first because she is a femme. since she does not don the uniform she so heavily reinforces as the 'gay look' in her blog, no one knows she is 'gay'. the more heavily we perpetuate these tired ideas of 'what it means to be gay' or 'what gay looks like' the more people we exclude.

though she ends the post with a statement from "we, as a people", she has to insert a small print caveat "cept for femmes". this qualifier is significant. the queer community is not homogenous by far and any sweeping claim is probably falling short on many accounts. however, it's a fairly weak universal theory if within it there has to be a small print exception made for a huge portion of the community. maybe it's just not necessary to try to find clever generalizations for a community that prides itself on difference. we don't have to all dress the same, fuck the same, smirk the same to be queer. we're queer, that's enough.

Who has the time for that?

i remember when i used to blog. when i used to want to blog. when i used to feel like i had time to blog. those were nice days.

lately, i've been thinking a lot about time, and not just because i wish i had more of it but because of its uncanny ability to impact everything. i've been trying to be aware of the fact that how i think about time influences the way i experience time.

a few weeks ago a friend told me that they measure time by seasons. she has trouble attaching years to events. this conversation made me interrogate how i perceive time. i have a very visual memory, and when i think back, i don't remember years or seasons. i remember my environment. sure, from places i can figure out the year, but time for me builds from statements like 'that was when i was living in (fill in the blank)'.

i've started writing this post a fair few times. it's gone in several different directions. apparently, i have a lot that i want to say about time. i doubt my interest in time is, er, fleeting, so instead of articulating thoughts that are still rather rough, i think it'd be more interesting to hear from anyone who happens to be reading this:

when you stop to think about it - how do you measure time? what are your markers for time?

The privilege behind the 's' word

Hey folks! A few people asked me about a tangential comment I made in my last post regarding white privilege and the book The Ethical Slut. I thought it would make sense to address that in a little post.

Language is rarely, if ever, neutral. Words come to have meaning through historical and cultural legacies. A word that invokes a strong negative reaction in North America might not mean anything particularly provocative in another country. Words are largely context-dependent.

The word slut has a long history in the United States - a product of chattel slavery and white mens' concerns over black female 'promiscuity'. Instead of delving further into this history and the implications for black women myself, I'm going to direct everyone to an article written by the Black Women's Blueprint. They are an intersectional activist group based in Brooklyn, NY. They say it all. I encourage everyone to read it. And thanks to my friend Apu for sharing the link!

http://www.blackwomensblueprint.org/2011/09/23/an-open-letter-from-black-women-to-the-slutwalk/