Chapter the Fifteenth
Well, I saw fireworks from the freeway
And behind closed eyes I cannot make them go away
'Cause you were born on the Fourth of July, freedom ring
Well, something on the surface it stinks
I said something on the surface
Well It kind of makes me nervous
To say that you deserve this
And what kind of god would serve this
We will cure this dirty old disease
'Cause if you gots the poison I gots the remedy-J. Mraz
There needs to be a word that combines the transcendence of rage and sorrow and pain all in one. If there is one, please someone let me know.
I can't talk too much about this because it's all jumbled in my head like I've been attacked. I hurt. I want to be balled up in a corner and cry. And where do I get off on this, me who's a middle-class white girl who thinks she's queer and yet not, genderqueer and yet not, uncertain about her spirituality, and may or may not have survived emotional abuse.
I was at the Senate forum tonight, and I had to leave. I feel like a loser and a wimp, but this is one of my first experiences with a discussion getting hotter than hell in August. I was going to break down if I stayed. Kinda glad I decided that activism wasn't going to be my career
Race came up and it's true that race is an issue, but those for changing the pronouns back to she, and trans people and allies seemed to be on two sides of the proverbial color line. Where are we? Who are we? Why can't we unite under one common flag of oppression? Why can't everyone at least make an effort to understand each other and learn?
WHY NOT?
Gender variance is a feminist issue. Let's work with that.
(Want to read my statement on behalf of SSFFS? IM or e-mail me.)
