So my new journal is finally together. I've ported over most of the things I had posted in anaphor, plus a handful of other writings that I've decided to post on-line. Unfortunately, none of the comments came along in the process.

So thanks for reading!

I got really really excited when I caught a mention of a transgender conference that's happening in nearby Port Angeles in May. Got to their website, and after reading down far enough realized it's *entirely* femme. Despite the lofty intro "Esprit focuses on changing lives for the better and creating pride and self-respect for anyone who is transgendered," they only mean folks on the MTF vector, be it CD, TV, TG, TS, ??, etc. Grrrrrr...... Even when talking about SO's, they talk about "girls whose partners wear their clothes." How fucking narrow.

I'm seriously considering writing them a letter to point out that they are in no way inclusive of "anyone who is transgendered." Why can't we have IFGE on this coast instead?? But it's in Philly this year.

( Quit doing evil and learn to do good. What is good? Seek justice. Relieve the oppressed.  )
Jesus in Matthew 25:31-46 "I was hungry, and you gave me meat. I was thirsty, and you gave me drink. I was a stranger, and you took me in. Naked, and you clothed me. Sick, and you visited me. In prison, and you came unto me. Enter into your reward. For when you did it unto the least of these my sisters and brothers, you did it unto me."

South Dakota has just made abortion illegal, state-wide. No exceptions - not for the health of the mother, for rape, or for incest. This flies clearly in the face of Roe v. Wade (1973) as well as Planned Parenthood v. Casey (1992); the latter stated that states cannot place "undue burden" on women getting access to abortion.

It's clear that the bill will be challenged all the way to the Supreme Court. The supporters hope that with two new conservative justices, Roe v. Wade will topple.

Holy
Fargin'
Shit.

It's now entirely up to the courts. In theory, the Supreme Court is above the sway of popular opinion -- so what can we do?? It's ironic that the conservatives seem to have the right answer for once: I'm gonna pray real hard that they don't pull this one off.

Ah, God-as-creator..... Why hamstring one's omnipotent deity and reduce him to the level of parlor-magician (literally a "seven-day wonder") when looking at the scientific evidence is so much more stimulating? Just imagine a God groovy enough to set up a handful of elegant physical laws, set the whole shebang (or is it bigbang?) in motion, and patiently watch a universe unfold.

Take one ardent Young-Earth Creationist with a strong sense of integrity. Add a heaping measure of scientific evidence for an old planet. Stir slowly, and let things settle for a bit. That's what happened with Glenn Morton, a practicing geophysicist and creationist, who has a lot to teach both sides in the evolution-vs-creation debate. It simply isn't either-or. And not all creationists are dumb/bigoted/anti-science/whatever, any more than all scientists are dumb/bigoted/anti-religion/atheists/whatever.

The Daily Kos has a good review, along with links to Glenn's writings:
"Not only does Glenn accept modern science, he perceives and presents the discoveries of science as profound evidence for the brilliance of the Deity he accepts on the power of his faith, thus engendering not mere tolerance for science among Christians, but promoting excitement about it and open interest in learning more."

As originally told in the Gospel of Luke (10.29-37), the parable of the Good Samaritan is a caution against prejudice. Samaritans were foreigners, often reviled, and definitely not expected to show mercy to Jews. Yet it is this "other" who, by his acts of mercy, demonstrates that he too is the "neighbor" Jesus commands his followers to love.

This version, however, retells the story with a somewhat different slant......

( Read more... )

But perhaps that is not how this story ends. Perhaps the Samaritan was only a dream of the traveler's fitful, delirious sleep. Perhaps the traveler lies there still, waiting for someone like you or I to reach out and help him.

I pledge allegiance to the dream that slumbers in the breast of our people. To the dream that has inspired, provoked, challenged us time and time again throughout our nation's history:

Freedom.

From the first self-evident truths, through the many struggles to show some evidence of those truths in reality, we have always dreamt of a nation made mighty by her peoples' freedoms. One nation, indivisible, for no force can sunder a people united by the bonds of love and respect. When that day comes, when the dream is tangible reality, we will at long last enjoy the security and prosperity we so feverishly seek.

We rob ourselves of security and prosperity when, in their name, we break the oaths of freedom our country is built upon. We divide ourselves when, in the name of unity, we quash the voices of dissent. We turn our back on the dream of a great nation who dares to search out her flaws, and instead degrade into petty, vain squabbling.

And yet we had the answer, that simple answer, right in front of us this whole time:

With liberty
and justice
for all.

I will never forget one conversation I had with an intelligent, thoughtful friend about a neighbor who mentioned his wife was hitting him. My friend's attitude was that this was clearly some bogus tale. When I brought up the existence of female-on-male domestic violence, the incredulity level only heightened. "That's impossible!" came the response, "It's simply not in women's nature."

At that time I didn't have the "facts" at my fingertips -- such as the many studies that document the astoundingly high rates of such abuse -- but I did have one reader's comments ringing in my brain. I carried with me one man's compelling tale of being abused and disbelieved, of the police treating him as the assailant when he sought their help. I knew my friend's assertions were false, and I started digging to try to find out what the truth of the matter is.

When domestic violence is talked about in our society, the usual assumption is that there is a male abuser and a female survivor. For people in same-gender relationships, for people transcending the gender binary, and for men being abused by women, that assumption creates an incredible barrier to service. It adds one more layer of silence and helplessness to an already desperate situation where the survivor needs all the help possible to, well, survive.

In a more insidious vein, labeling men as "violent" and women as "victims" traps everybody into a lousy role. I know for sure that I don't want to be either of those two choices. This adversarial setup only perpetuates the model that the sexes are each other's enemies.

I urge you, Gentle Reader, to take a few minutes and stretch your conception of what domestic violence looks like.
Start with this moving LJ entry. The comments posted so far are thought-provoking, too.
Read the first-hand stories of male survivors here.
And if you want more statistics and comparisons of male-on-female and female-on-male violence, Wikipedia's DV article has a good discussion.
For same-gender DV, this article is a good look at barriers to service. And the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs' report on DV among LGBT folks is the closest thing to comprehensive -- it has stats, stories, and more.

Where you take it next is up to you. Even just being one candle of truth can have profound and unexpected effects.

In 1967, the US Supreme Court struck down the "antimiscegenation" laws still remaining -- and actively enforced -- that barred interracial marriage in sixteen states. This was by no means done in accordance with the "will of the voters," who one year later registered 72% disapproval of interracial marriage. It wasn't until 1997 that a nationwide majority approved of interracial marriage -- and given that voter turnout increases with age-class and approval decreases, any votes would have been more disapproving than poll results. (I'd love to get full demographic breakdown for the Gallup polls and for voting and crank the numbers over the years).

Also consider that interracial marriage has been legal and happening for a very long time, and had been the law of the land nationwide for thirty years before the majority approved of it. I think that some of the increase in acceptance resulted from people knowing interracial couples and their children firsthand, an example of popular opinion slowly catching up with actual fact. If we had waited for voters to approve interracial marriage, we might not be there yet.

Take a look at the poll results over the years. This is one very good example of why I do not trust "majority rules" attitudes when it comes to deciding on the rights of a minority group.

( Read more... )

So Maine just recently updated its Human Rights Act to ban discrimination (in employment, housing, credit, public accomodations, and education) based on sexual orientation or gender identity. It's going onto the ballot for a People's Veto, which I think only needs 50% of the vote (eek!). [Edit: the veto failed in November] This wouldn't be the first time Maine has granted, then repealed, basic protection for people of all sexual orientations.

Last Thursday, 28 April, the "Coalition for Marriage" held a big rally at the statehouse to kick off their campaign to repeal the law. They're deliberately conflating the anti-discrimination law with same-sex marriage.

We were there, of course. In the photo, we're up on the second-floor balcony holding signs in silent witness/protest to their action. It was pretty easy -- we and they were separate, so we didn't have them yelling in our face. It made it much easier to maintain our cool. Our goal was just to register our existence/disapproval, but for none of us to speak to the media. We'll debate later; today at their rally we want Maine to hear just how, well, nutty and extremist and outright LYING these folks are.

Full story (and photos!) can be found here.

Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everybody's affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing, and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others' pains, but help me to endure them with patience.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessing cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a Saint -- some of them are so hard to live with -- but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And, give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so. Amen.

The title of this prayer is traditional; the source is unknown

Fire is one of the most powerful physical-world tools our species has learned to use. Though we once only fled from it in terror, we have made our peace with this element. Now fire illuminates and warms us, transforms flesh into food and rocks into metals. We have not tamed fire, and we still get burned more often than we would like. But we continue to wield it.

It was pointed out to me today that persecution can be a lot like fire. It's more wildfire than hearth-fire, unfortunately, never of our own choosing and not kept safely in a box. I've spent a lot of energy running from the fire, fearing the burns I've felt before and knowing that others have been burned to death. Those fears are valid; my pains are real. But they're not where I want to get stuck.

Running from a wildfire doesn't guarantee safety; it only guarantees that you spend your whole self in running. The only place that is absolutely safe in a fire is a burned area. The trick is getting through the flames alive. We can run until it catches us, often times in the worst possible place. Or we can choose our ground, turn, and walk into the flames.

Yes, our persecutors will sometimes kill us. No matter how we try to run or hide or fight, some of us will die. But as Socrates said of those who persecuted him to death, "They may kill me, but harm me they cannot." I need to remember that there are much worse things than death -- living stuck in my fear or my pain, for one.

Mostly, though, we will survive the fire. We will nurse our wounds and share our scars, and hope that someday this all makes a good story.

But it isn't just about surviving the fire. All fire illuminates; it can't help doing so. Likewise, all fire transforms. I choose to see and make visible those aspects, as well. No pain is wasted.

In the flames of persecution, the non-essential gets burned away. I know what is important to me, and I know what is true. [I wish I could articulate them better, though.] I know who is really my friend; they have had to take some of the heat themselves. I've had to make some tough choices and let once-cherished things go up in flames to protect my true self. It has by no means been an easy nor pleasant process, but I'm getting towards the point in my life where there's nothing flammable left. All that remains is solid-gold ME, tempered to strength and resiliency.

Mostly, though, wildfire is voracious. My enemies have to spend inordinate amounts of time, energy, and money feeding this beast of theirs. This fire they have set to consume me is really consuming them, as they can never rest or it will die down. They have already lost, even if I get burned up. Eventually enough people will get sick of wasting their lives on such stupid hatred.

If I try to keep the fire from ever touching me, I must bear a similar cost. And then I too will lose, even if I remain unsinged. If I walk through it, I can sit down and rest. And then I can get back up and fight the fire from a place of safety, stronger now for having been through it. I still get burned, even coming at it from behind. But after what I've been through to get here, after having lost all that ignites easily, it's pretty minor. And once I realize that I don't burn as easily as I fear, once I realize that I can take some singeing and keep going, I'll be able to get a lot closer to the fire and stomp it where it counts.

I believe in turning the other cheek.
I believe in working hard to make this world a better place.
And right now I am trying to find the path that combines the two in synergy, where I can fight the fire without becoming consumed by the struggle.

If I could, I would choose never to be confronted by the fires of persecution. But I do not have that choice. All I can choose is how I respond.

What do you believe?

I believe in the reality that I directly perceive. The information I gather through my senses (maybe more than the Big Five?) I accept as my reality rather than illusion. I cannot prove this; I take it on faith until the day when I wake up and realize what a weird dream this little butterfly has been having.

I believe that the processes operating now have always operated about the same, and will most likely continue right along. Uniformitarianism isn't just for geologists. Again, it's entirely possible that the universe was created out of whole cloth at 11:32pm last Tuesday, and we've all got false memories and false dinosaur bones and false radioisotopes that suggest a 15-billion-year-old universe. But if the illusion is so perfect, what harm in operating as if it's true?

I believe that we will never know how, much less why, this whole universe came into being. That's utterly outside the scope of empirical evidence or uniformitarian reasoning, so we have no clue. And you know, I'm OK with that.

I know that all knowledge contains uncertainty. Knowing the degree and kind of uncertainty, as much as possible, is often as important as the knowledge itself. At the very least, it is important to recognize that the uncertainty exists.

I believe in Mystery -- that there are some things inherently unknowable. And I believe that this Mystery adds a lot of depth and beauty to the world.

I believe that I am connected to something larger than the me that fits inside my skull and my skin. I have not yet found a good name for it. The anthropomorphic "God" image doesn't describe it well, though calling it God sometimes makes it easier to talk to.

I believe that all elements of the universe are my relations: the people, in all races and in all times; the beasts and the birds and the fishes; the trees and the earth, the mountains and the waters, the winds and the stars.

I believe that one of the most important things I can do with myself is to seek out Beauty in all its unexpected manifestations, to make it visible to myself and others. I believe that Beauty, like all things, is not seen because it is visible; it is visible because it is seen.

I believe in treating all beings with respect, love, and kindness. It's that simple, though putting it into practice is far more complex.

I believe in turning the other cheek.
I believe in working hard to make this world a better place.
I'm still trying to find the balance where those two combine in synergy.

I believe that the best use for fear is as a fire to temper courage and resolve.

I believe that hope is an incredibly powerful tool, and I know that it cuts both ways.

I believe in making mistakes. Big ones. Because I believe in learning from them.

I believe that I am a work in progress, and I hope that I always will be.

I believe that no pain is wasted as we work to build the sculpture of our selves. I do not believe that everything happens for a reason, much less for the best, but I do believe that everything that happens can be put to good use.

I was in Augusta (Maine) today to witness the public hearings on LD 1196, which adds "sexual orientation" to the list of categories on which it is illegal to discriminate in housing, employment, public accomodations, credit, or education. I put "sexual orientation" in qoutes b/c it is defined as "actual or perceived heterosexuality, bisexuality, or homosexuality, gender identity or expression." I have some serious issues with the definition, mainly 1) there are waaaaay more than three categories of sexual orientation, and 2) gender identity and expression are distinct and separate from sexual orientation. But I'll give our well-meaning allies credit for getting gender id/exp in there at least.

Anyway, I've got a lot to mull over, so this will probably generate a few posts. Right now I'd like to address one comment from a citizen opposed to passing the bill. Part of his statement was as follows (paraphrased):
I'm a Christian, and I feel that homosexual behavior is immoral. I wouldn't want to rent my apartment to a same-sex couple because I know they'd be engaging in behavior that I consider immoral, and I don't want to be encouraging that on my property.

Consider instead a prospective tenant who is, say, Satanist. I think most fire-and-brimstone Christians find devil-worship immoral. Yet under existing law, this tenant cannot be excluded based on those religious practices. The intersection of a basic human need (housing) with a protected category (religion) is an area where the law specifically forbids people to impose their judgements of morality on others.

We as a society feel that a tenant should be judged solely on the abilities to pay the rent on time and treat the residence with care. Nothing else should enter into consideration.

Re-read that last paragraph again. I'd like to turn it inwards and push a little. How willing are we to really stick to that ideal?

Imagine I had a prospective tenant who, on seeing the apartment exclaimed, "Oh, this will be perfect! My last place was just too small for the KKK meetings." Needless to say, I find the activities of the Ku Klux Klan thoroughly immoral. Could I, in good conscience, refuse to rent to this tenant who has excellent references?

My moral objection to the KKK is something I'm quite comfortable with. Their activities run counter to my deepest beliefs in respect, kindness, equality, and a society where people can live without fear. I would not patronize a shop whose owner is Klan-affiliated in any way, for example, any more than I would shop at Wal-Mart. Allowing my property to be used for Klan meetings would be a very, very difficult thing for me. [I am totally unwilling to add something to my rent agreement forbidding peaceable assembly...] But I think to exclude this tenant would be rank hypocrisy -- discriminating on something other than ability to pay and to treat the residence with care. Is there something I'm missing?

Employment, housing, credit, public accomodations, education. Is there something about those five that is special? In Maine, at least, the civil-rights legislation that set up the non-discrimination framework grew directly out of the experience of black citizens and visitors. These are the areas where black people were facing clear and repeated discrimination.
No store has a "right" to my business, but I think these five come close to being fundamental rights. There are probably some areas of social interaction where we really do have to lay our differences aside -- all of our differences -- and simply deal with each other as people, no matter how strongly we disagree.

Address by Prime Minister Paul Martin on Bill C-38 (The Civil Marriage Act).
February 16, 2005
Ottawa, Ontario

( A very moving, powerful speech; I hope soon we can hear similar ideals cherished in all countries )

I keep hearing phrases tossed around the LGB-rights sector of things:
"because of who we love"
"because of the gender of my lover"
"because of who they share their bed with"
and other phrases to that effect, And I really want to tell folks that you're missing the point. By a very long mile.

It's actually not anything to do with who I may or may not love -- I'm queer even when I'm single, which is my norm. I was queer long before I dated anyone, and was harassed and attacked for it before even my first kiss.

It isn't about behavior. It isn't about marriage or anything else that I do. It's simply about me, about who I am. If I ever "slip" and reveal my nature, it doesn't matter that I'm quietly, boringly, single. I could still lose my job or my housing, just to mention some of the lesser consequences.

I wish I could get this message across to the folks working to get non-discrimination statements enacted in their schools, workplaces, and legislatures. Too often, we try to use the tactic: "Our love doesn't hurt anyone." That just puts the debate squarely back in bed.....an arena where the American Public is notoriously squeamish. Sex is a dirty word in this country, folks, no matter what genders are involved.

Try instead the simple assertion that I, too, am human. That I am your neighbor, your friend, your child. And when you hurt me, you hurt yourself as well. If you continue to shove down so many members of your society, you are deadening your society and cheapening your own liberties. You are creating a world where conformity is absolutely required -- what happened to freedom? Do you really want to live in a society where so many people are cowering in fear, afraid to be labeled as queer (whether they are or not), instead of freely sharing their labors and compassions to enrich the world? We're busy fighting for our survival; please hold.

We as a society have already recognized this simple fact about women, blacks, and many other segments of our society who once were considered sub-human. (though we're still trying to get it right in practice......) We have yet to reach the same level of understanding as regards those whose gender identity or sexual orientation isn't entirely orthodox. And I truly believe that the only way we can ever do so is to start emphasizing our person-ness, not portraying ourselves as sets of actions.

"If there is not struggle, there is no progress. Those who profess to favor freedom, and yet depreciate agitation ... want crops without plowing up the ground. They want rain without thunder and lightning. They want the ocean without the awful roar of its many waters...Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did, and it never will."
-Frederick Douglass

"Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice. And moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue."
-Barry Goldwater

NY's same-sex marriage ban struck down

( Read the full story... )

This isn't a fun time to be gay in America -- it seems like every morning the news is filled with the latest attacks on our lives and our liberties, to say nothing of being able to pursue happiness. Some days it just hurts too much to talk about it. Others, to be honest, I'm too afraid to open my mouth. I simply want to be normal and live a quiet life and stick my head in the sand until it all goes away.

But every time I let myself be silenced, part of me dies. I feel a little less human, a little less worthwhile. And I'm tired of that.

Sometimes I wish people could see the faces of everyone who is hurt by the discrimination and violence based on sexual orientation and gender identity. I would like to break down the “safe” abstract position they have when preaching about “the homosexual agenda” and “family values” and whatnot, and simply show them the all-too-human suffering that touches so many people.

I am the student afraid to go back to school. The teasing and shouting “Kill the faggot!” has gotten worse, and none of the teachers are doing anything about it.

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.

I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.

I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.

We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.

I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.

I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.

I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.

I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.

We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.

I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.

I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.

I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.

I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.

I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.

I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t have to always deal with society hating me.

Please go to this entry, where I originally posted this piece, to read some of the many (over 1800 so far!) comments people have submitted. Many of those comments are more interesting and powerful than my own bit.
Add your own voice, too. Let your story be heard.