awakenings

From Joe My God

Go to Join The Impact for information about the protests near you. Protest times are staggered by time zone, making this the very first time in the history of our nation that LGBT people will be standing up for ourselves in every major city in every state at the SAME TIME.

Prop. 102 Candlelight Vigil
Date: Monday, November 10, 2008
Time: 6:00pm – 8:00pm
Location: Camelback Rd. and Central Ave., Phoenix, AZ
Assemble on the Southwest Corner of Camelback & Central.

Meg Sneed and Luis Garcia [Echo Magazine] state:
“The community needs an outlet, somewhere to come together and feel as though they are being heard. A venue where the tears can flow, for the ground we lost on Tuesday. But after those tears it will be a place that will be filled with hope, a place that will allow us to come together and speak of where we will go from here. The upcoming road may be harder, longer, and steeper, but we shall overcome. I feel at least we need to have a community gathering to recognize the people and families that our state constitution now does not, along with infusing some hope about the future into the mix. Something to make the community feel embraced and heard, to give them hope and the strength to continue the battle for equality.”

I promise you not a moment will be lost as long as I have heart & voice to speak & we will walk again together with a thousand others & a thousand more & on & on until there is no one among us who does not know the truth: there is no future without love.
~storypeople

This week we simultaneously celebrate victory and mourn defeat. Around the country queer and queer-allied communities cheered as votes were tallied and the US elected a man who once gave this quote:

“Too often, the issue of GLBT rights is exploited by those seeking to divide us. But at its core, this issue is about who we are as Americans. I look forward to working with HRC to end discrimination against GLBT Americans and to ensure that all of our citizens are treated with dignity and respect.”

But while we were lifted by our inclusion in Obama’s acceptance speech and by the potential for change created by a LGBTQ friendly White House, here in Arizona (and in California, Arkansas and Florida) we watched as propositions that sought to limit or remove our rights, status, and equality were ahead from the beginning and remained that way through the night.

How do you process so much joy and so much disappointment at the same time?

I can tell you how I’m going to do it. I’m working today, working hard, on transforming all those emotions – conflicting, heightened, and very real – into hope. A powerful, mind-blowing, consciousness-changing kind of HOPE. We’ve got to move now, before apathy and defeat set into the community. Now, while people are still buoyed by the tides of change that are set to sweep this country. Now, while the emotions are still fresh in our hearts.

Harvey Milk said:

“…know that there’s hope for a better world, there’s hope for a better tomorrow. Without hope not only gays, but the Blacks, the Asians, the disabled, the seniors, the us’s…without hope the us’s give up. I know that you cannot live on hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living….you, and you, and you; you’ve gotta give them hope.”

For the past few days I have talked and listened and read and watched as the LGBTQ community across the country express – sometimes utterly unexpected – feelings of sorrow and grief and rage and betrayal at the losses we experienced on Tuesday. There is no doubt; we are feeling this at our very core. There were four states where our equality was on the line, and we lost in every single one. There is no way to avoid the repercussions of those losses. I know that personally I feel very different now than I did prior to election day, the knowledge that the majority of the citizens of this state consider me less than, not worthy of equal rights is a bitter pill to swallow. But it’s dangerous to wallow in those feelings, because they can so quickly turn to hopelessness – and that is the one thing we cannot afford.

Civil rights battles are not won quickly, or easily – they are won over time and with great effort and sacrifice. They are won with a million tiny, infinitesimal shifts far more often than they are won with great seismic changes. The ultimate success of this movement does not hinge on one election, or one act of discrimination, or a single protest. Just as the battle for racial equality did not begin or end with Rosa Parks, the Gay Rights movement that began with Stonewall does not end with Tuesday’s election results. We don’t slink off in defeat now, with our tails between our legs, letting the Christian-right dance with glee on the 18,000+ marriage certificates of same-sex couples in California.

Not a chance.

As Matt Coles, ACLU Director of Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender Project says:

If you run up an unbroken string of victories in any battle for civil rights, that simply means you waited too long to get to work. Change that matters is never smooth or easy.

The writing IS on the wall. This IS going to happen. Our community IS going to succeed. But it’s not going to happen overnight, and it’s not going to happen if we don’t lay ourselves on the line and work with everything we have to achieve it. True, we don’t have a Harvey Milk figurehead to rally around, there’s no one person to pin our dreams to – the way the nation did with Obama during this campaign. But this only means we have to take it that much further. We have to rally around each other, we have to create that movement, that wave, that sea change that we so desperately need.

As President Elect Obama himself said – in his masterful speech on race last March:

“What would be needed were Americans in successive generations who were willing to do their part–through protests and struggle, on the streets and in the courts, through a civil war and civil disobedience and always at great risk–to narrow that gap between the promise of our ideals and the reality of their time.”

Make no mistake, the gap that Obama spoke of – between the promise of our ideals and the reality of our time – widened this week. There is not point in glossing over the truth – we took a huge step backward in the path to equality, and our hearts and spirits took a beating along the way. But because we were pushed backwards, it is more important than ever to be sure that we are not knocked off the track, that we keep pushing forward, that queer and queer-allied people across the nation stand up, dust off, link arms and keep on walking, and writing, and talking and demanding change.

As Milk famously said “Hope is Never Silent”.

So let’s get loud folks. Let’s get real hopeful and real loud. Everything depends on it.

I’m not going to add anything – just a link. Please. Please. Please Read.

NoFo – Proposition Hate

I found this video a few days ago via the divine Dorothy Snarker, and although I’ve never been a Grey’s Anatomy fan, it stopped me in my tracks. As Dorothy says:

“In less than two minutes she brought up what is a universal revelation in the life of almost every gay and lesbian person. The lightbulb. Whether it comes quietly to oneself or jarringly in the open, it happens….The catch in her voice was the catch that comes from an answer you never even though to ask the question to but now can’t believe you ever lived without knowing.”

And she’s right, no matter if you use leaves and glasses or tasting a food you’ve never tasted or any other analogy, there is that moment of facing your truth, of slipping into your experience, of life fitting on a level you never thought possible.

For me it was like I was a multilayered puzzle – all the levels had to become perfectly aligned in order for the puzzle to be completed. I’d get the pieces so achingly close, but I could never quite ease them all into the exact positions necessary to bring it all together. The harder I struggled to make them fit, the more things would shift and the less likely it seemed that I would ever figure it out.

And then came the moment where I took a deep breath, and opened my eyes and everything effortlessly fell into place – exactly the way it had always meant to be. And I was stronger, and more sure and infinitely more aware of everything.

If I was an animator I could draw you a cartoon of exactly how it felt. Picture me, in solid form, surrounded by a whole bunch of other me’s …different colors and transparent to different degrees, all vibrating at slightly different frequencies and moving at slightly different speeds.

I walked through life with all those versions of myself hovering near, moving in and out, overlapping, and almost, but not quite ever, lining up exactly with my core. Then there was one day, one minute, one second where all those multi-hued layers slid into utterly perfect alignment – not even off by the smallest fraction of a millimeter – and all their beautiful colors made me glow from within. For the first time there was just one me, a same-but-not-same me (just with one heck of a big gay rainbow aura).

And even though it’s been far from perfect since then, and there have been plenty of times where my alignment has been knocked far out of wack, I know now – in a way I never could before – that the only way to bring it back to center is to live with utter and complete authenticity. That alignment wasn’t just about coming out and accepting that I’m gay – it was about what happens when you live your truth, and that involves choices in every moment of life.

And when I make the right choices – when I am true to myself and live with intention – I always see the leaves.

***
Dorothy also recently posted that ABC/Gray’s Anatomy has decided to unceremoneously terminate this lesbian storyline – currently the only one on primetime TV. Read more about it on her blog.

it’s been
stealing over me
again
disconnect
not fitting
in my space in my
skin

like before
when it came and stayed
-for months and months
that time-

-i think in thoughts tinged
with numbness-
don’t want to go
down that
rabbit hole again

talk to me
-i tell
her
wanting to hear
words to help me
sleep-
tell me things

i don’t tell
her
that i want
to take her words
her voice her
spirit
and stuff it all
inside
to fill the emptiness

what does it mean
now?
-i wonder-
something swirling
in space
but not yet visible
to me?

***

She
whispers, pulling
me close
and i roll onto
her
wanting to absorb
everything
i can and
then
i sleep.

***

i wake to
silky blonde hair
little fists
rubbing sleepy eyes
‘mommy i’m hungry’
and rise
leaving her asleep
in our bed.

our bed.
in our home.
so many changes
for me
and mine

oatmeal
-with honey
of course-
in a pink plastic bowl
made quickly
paper grabbed
to scrawl out
words that needed
release

and with release
comes
-as it so often
does-
relief from
pressure to figure
to understand
to know

and all that is
left is to
just be
just me
just words
on torn paper
on a dark wood table
next to a pink plastic
bowl
filled with oatmeal.

***

she comes up
behind me
in the kitchen
and i turn
to bury
my face in her
shoulder
finding
everything
in her
arms

i feel you today
-i say-
i know
-she says-
that’s because
last night you called for
me in your sleep
and i came to
you
crawled inside,
filled you
up

ah,
-i say-
thats why i feel
so different
this morning.

thanks.