Tuesday, July 23, 2024

Kamala Harris, coconut trees, burdens, and joy


It has only been two days since Joe Biden stepped aside from the presidential campaign and I have learned a lot more about Charli XCX than I was expecting. Meanwhile, the Democrats have raised $100 million and counting.

A lot of the Republican response has been boringly predictable, and none of it has anything to do with Vice President Kamala Harris as a person or as a politician. They are stuck in a hermetically sealed room with Donald Trump and the smell of their own ideological farts. 

But a couple of the complaints have caught my attention, in that Republicans are saying she doesn't speak well and produces "word salad."  (I bet they've been saving that up since Sarah Palin, you betcha.)  

Even an arguably respectable publication like Newsweek called one of her signature phrases "confusing," and others seem to be mixing up a coconut tree with a turnip truck.*

Let me explain. 

Harris gave a speech in which she quoted her mother as saying, "'I don't know what's wrong with you young people. You think you just fell out of a coconut tree?'"  Harris went on to say, "You exist in the context of all in which you live, and what came before you." 

That is to say, you didn't come out of nowhere. You have a family and a community and a history and a culture and a world.

The other thing that Harris likes to say is, "I can imagine what can be, unburdened by what has been."

I don't find that statement confusing whatsoever. And coupled with the previous statement, it's a whole philosophy. 

You come from somewhere. You exist in a context that includes culture and history and family and other people and the world at large. Those things inform you...but they need not limit you. The future can be lifted up by the past and present, it doesn't have to be weighted down by them. 

That's a beautiful, hopeful sentiment. I like it.

Assuming that they're telling the truth about what they actually think and not just Gish galloping through life (which is never a good bet, to be honest), the people complaining that she doesn't make sense are either not smart enough to follow the thought or constitutionally incapable of grasping it. 

The same people make fun of her for laughing, as if joy is also something they can't understand. Notably, unintelligent and narcissistic people commonly lack a sense of humor and tend to take themselves very, very seriously.

(There are people who laugh at things I don't think are funny, but that's not actually what they're complaining about. They seem to be upset that she's laughing at all.)

Harris speaks about growing up in a family full of women who laugh big belly laughs. I did too, and it's one of the things that makes me like her.  

Women who laugh loud don't make ourselves small to appease others. We don't suppress our own joy. And we fear no one. 



*The phrase "I didn't just fall off the back of a turnip truck" basically means "I wasn't born yesterday" and while it is a fine turn of phrase, the connotations seem to be different.

Thursday, June 13, 2024

What I've been up to...

Mostly, writing for Decaturish. Depending on who you ask, I am doing great work and shining a much-needed light on dark corners of DeKalb County, or I am a yellow journalist who needs to go back to school and learn how to be a professional.

I did go back to school, but it was to teach college English. Jokes on them, I guess. 

I've participated in a couple of Outer Dark events, including Weird Bites last year and Call of the Weird last March. I expect the latter will be up on the podcast eventually.

I hadn't been writing much new fiction or poetry, and not trying very hard to get it published, until fairly recently. I've got an idea for a collection of short stories set in Atlanta in the late 80s and early 90s, mostly (some may reach further back into the past, and others might wander into the future, and at least one starts in Appalachia, as I did myself). They are hard to classify, as they have fantastical elements but are also frequently based on stuff that really happened. Magical realism, perhaps. Confusing people by writing things that seem really vivid like they could have maybe really happened, but couldn't possibly have happened is my favorite honestly.  In any case, I have finished two of those stories and have sent them out to find work, and I have several more in various stages of incompletion. One of them is set in the Hotel Clermont, but as it was in the old days when that whole section of Ponce was sketch as could be. I'm planning to go stay the night and see if I can commune with the spirits of sketch gone by through the boutiqueness of its current incarnation. Wish me luck.

Saturday, October 9, 2021

Schrodinger's Bard


 "Shakespeare's words" by Calamity Meg is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

When I was teaching at the University of Georgia, one of my favorite tidbits to drop in the middle of Hamlet or Macbeth was the fact that there is no original Shakespeare. 

Shakespeare himself did not publish his plays, because copyright law as we know it did not approach existence until 1710.  The nineteen plays that were published during his lifetime were most probably not approved or overseen by him. The rest were published seven or more years after his death, and probably not from a written script, but from the memories of his actors.

Memory is a funny thing. There are actually two equally authoritative and mutually incompatible versions of King Lear. No one knows which one is the "real" one. Perhaps they both are; Shakespeare doesn't strike me as someone who would be afraid of a little retconning. Aside from protecting his intellectual property by the only means available, one reason why Shakespeare might not have wanted his plays in print is that then he'd be bound to that version. I'm just speculating, but he loved topical jokes and those often have an expiration date. Of course his other favorite, dick jokes, spring eternal. 

Shakespeare introduced and possibly invented out of his own noggin something like 1700 words, and his turns of phrase are so common as to be found absolutely everywhere, from William Faulkner to Monty Python. He is probably the single most culturally significant writer in the English language. Yet we don't have his original, physical words at all. 

The ambiguity and the lack of actual pages with his writing on them are also why there are so many theories about his work being written by someone else. I think he probably did collaborate on some things and he absolutely, definitely, without a doubt stole whatever wasn't nailed down hard enough. But there's no accepted body of evidence that any other person wrote what is attributed to him, certainly not that any one person did so. However, his looming presence in the culture means that the aura of mystery is attractive to the sort of person who wants to believe that the world as we know it is a tissue of lies and they are on the heels of the real truth. 

Furthermore, Shakespeare has the colossal influence that he does partially because Victorian literary critics decided that he should. They lifted him up as the greatest writer of all time, and he therefore became almost universally read by anyone who could read English, to the point where if you made an allusion to or quoted him you could be sure that the reference would be understood, and then it just snowballed. At this point if you want to understand English literature you have to know Shakespeare. He is absolutely, aside from the merits of his actual writing, a kind of ur-example of hype...a situation he would probably find gratifying and hilarious. No one who loved a pun so much at that man did could fail to be amused by irony.  And no one who could write Hamlet...a play that is very much about layers of perception, deception, delusion, and the possibly empty reality underneath...could fail to apprehend the irony of his own literary ghost. 





Thursday, July 30, 2020

Wendell Berry and the Hidden Wound of Racism

I ordered a copy of The Hidden Wound by Wendell Berry more or less by accident. I didn't know what it was about, only that Wendell Berry wrote it and I hadn't read it before and that was good enough for me.

It turns out that it's his meditation on racism and the legacy of slavery, from the point of view of a Southern descendant of slave-owners old enough to have heard family stories about it.  Parts of it appear to have been originally written in the 1960s, but it was first published in 1989 (and I wish I'd read it then). However, Berry's observations are so crystalline, so cutting and relentless that they are still far ahead of most, for all that he uses language like "man" for "people" that sounds graceless now.  It's simultaneously a relic of the past (Berry was born in 1932 and grew up, like my father, plowing with a mule) and sharply relevant to today.

A quote on the back cover from Guy Davenport describes it thus: "The brunt of this book is to wake us up, page after page, from stupidity."

Berry speaks scathingly in his firm quiet way of the "romanticizers," whose purpose is "to shelter us from the moral anguish implicit in our racism--an anguish that began, deep and mute, in the minds of Christian democratic freedom-loving owners of slaves."  

He's speaking in particular of a memoir of the Civil War published in 1895; but it might just as easily be about the Confederate glorification monuments that scatter the landscape in the South and the apologetics thereof. For all that some of them are coming down, many still remain, and there have even been pushes to put up more...mostly in Appalachia, where support for the Confederacy was low to nonexistent.  Somehow the descendants of people who voted against secession are putting up battle flags in defiance of history and common sense.  We in the South are still preserving our heritage of moral dissonance like a mosquito in amber, having neither learned much nor moved very far on. Not that that distinguishes us from other Americans in any way.
He spends some time attending to the damage done to our religious understanding as well, which explains what drove me out of the Southern Baptist church I was raised in. Berry says, "Far from curing the wound of racism, the white man's Christianity has been its soothing bandage--a bandage masquerading as Sunday clothes, for the wearing of which one expects a certain moral credit."

Indeed, that describes the relationship of white Evangelicals with the Republican Party to a T.

He is unstinting, but allows ample room for humanity, humility, and nuance.  He starts with racism and the legacy of slavery, takes a winding road through his childhood, and ends up at economic justice.  Like you do. 

If you are a white Southerner, you must read this book, which is short but concentrated. Other people will benefit from reading it as well; but Berry is speaking our language here, and depicting the culture we grew up in with compassion and humanity but also unflinching clarity for its particular flaws.  Never mind the lies of America in general; we've been fed on particular poisoned lies for particular reasons, and Berry offers an antidote.  Read it and be healed.


Sunday, July 5, 2020

Why "But the Irish Were Slaves!" is both wrong and racist

Since people have been posting about this...

First of all, the Irish were not slaves. There were quite a few Irish and Scottish (and English for that matter) indentured servants, and indenture was exploitive and frequently brutal, but indenture was not the same as chattel slavery.  The most significant difference is that indenture is a legal contract that a person enters into, which has a theoretical end.  That end was often not respected but the indenture remained a legal human being. Enslaved people on the other hand were not seen as legal persons at any point. Slavery was carefully built both legally and culturally to be seen as innate, the "natural" relationship between white people and black people because of the latter's supposed inferiority.  There were reams and reams of writings justifying that world view, a sure sign of propaganda at work.  Another word for this ideology and its long-term effects is "racism."

There was indeed slavery in Africa, as in Europe, Asia and basically everywhere in the world, but there were avenues for someone to gain their freedom AND it didn't create a skin color based caste system like it did here. The evolution of slavery in the Americas, because it involved the displacement of literally millions of people, is unique.

There were some indentured servants in the colonies who were African in origin, as well as chattel slaves. We know this mainly because they frequently had to argue in court for their status as indentured servants whose terms were up. Those who did so successfully were generally Christian and literate. Later laws against teaching enslaved people to read and write should be viewed with that in mind. The codification of chattel slavery into law was a process, one that made it harder and harder for anyone of African descent to extricate themselves from any form of servitude, and created a situation where a person of color was assumed to be enslaved until proven otherwise (and said proof was frequently not accepted). That process was largely complete by 1700.

Indentured servants were on the same general social level as enslaved people. There were intermarriages. This partially explains why certain Irish and Scottish customs, such as jumping the broom and "first footing," have become African American customs. HOWEVER...and this is a big however....a white indentured servant who completed their term of service became a free person and could completely blend in to the rest of the population.

This made an incredible difference in outcomes, both for individuals and collectively. As a white person, some of my ancestors may well have been indentured servants. I don't know...and neither do you. Because you can't tell by looking at me, and more importantly, it has had no discernible effect on me or my more recent ancestors who have been a bunch of middle class or wealthier farmers, business people, preachers, and educators for generations.

The same can't be said for African Americans...even if their ancestors were in fact indentured and not enslaved, or were freed at some point before 1863, or indeed even if they arrived long after it was all over, because the state of slavery or its existence at a given point in time is not the sole determining factor here.  Escape from slavery, whether as individuals or collectively, did not and has not granted escape from racism.  Partially because racism, while woven into the establishment and justification of the system of chattel slavery and exploitation, was also very much tied up with the origins of capitalism.  That is to say, while racism is certainly the legacy of slavery, it's still very much alive and well because it serves other purposes.  In any case, racism has a measurable effect on black people's educational and employment opportunities, their ability to acquire and maintain wealth, their health outcomes, how frequently and harshly they suffer punishment from the justice system, and (as we should all be aware by now) how likely they are to die violently at the hands of police.

And that brings us back to "But the Irish were slaves too!"  Aside from the fact that it's factually wrong, the only reason to bring that up right now is to somehow deflect from the argument that racism in the US is the legacy of slavery.  I hope I have explained clearly enough what is wrong with that idea.  But let's back up even further and ask a more pertinent question...

Why the hell would you want to do that?  What do you, O fellow white person, get out of trying to undermine the idea that racism is a real thing that happens to real people and sometimes gets them killed?  Why, when millions of people are marching in the streets in the hope of justice, do you think it's a great moment to waltz in with what would be a desperately irrelevant bit of historical geekery even if it were true?  What reason could there be, except that you recognize that the status quo benefits you and you are choosing in this moment to defend it?

What the hell is wrong with you?

Friday, June 12, 2020

Trying to Build a Better World and Burnout

I have been reflecting on the fact that for much of my adult life I was driven by a vision of how the world could be a better place. It was coherent, complex, accounted for a lot of details and potential problems, and workable...up to a point.

The breaking point, as it often is, was the ability of individuals to muck it all up, and people's general inability or unwillingness to resolve conflict or to deal with people who are operating in bad faith.

Understand, I put a LOT of energy into this. My first job was working for Greenpeace. I was involved with the environmental and anti-globalism movements, feminist activism around motherhood, and Occupy. On another track, I helped start and run various Pagan organizations and events, and ran a teaching coven for ten years.

 At some point, I gave up. I still do political work, but it's mostly damage control. I'm not trying to create anything new. I'm just trying to keep it from getting worse. Which is probably why I have less energy and enthusiasm than I used to.

Don't get me wrong; I show up for certain causes, like Black Lives Matter; but they are driven by other people. I resist getting too deep into any activist group, because neither trying to adapt to an existing organization with fatal flaws, or trying to build up something from scratch only to have it blown up by someone whose ego is a stand-in for gasoline and a match, are scenarios I ever want to repeat. It's not even that I've never succeeded in building something that lasts; I have. It's that the losses are too costly.

I don't want to feel this way. It's a serious problem. But I do.

Aside from the fact that some of them are friends of friends, I find the accounts of the activists in this story entirely plausible because I've known people EXACTLY like this guy. Grandstanding, co-opting group work, leveraging charisma (including sleeping around, and it's often the men who do it) to gain positions of power, running people off who don't agree with them, ignoring what everyone agreed to because they think they know better, starting fights with the police that other people have to finish...all of it. They are quite often some flavor of bigot as well, in a "but I'm one of the good guys" whiney-ass way. Those people are incredibly destructive. They don't have to all be informants, most of them probably aren't. Some of them are super-dedicated radicals. They're destructive nonetheless.

 I have quite frequently been the thorn in that person's side, the boring-ass consensus-process bitch who insists that we actually follow the rules we all agreed on that were designed to keep the group from being co-opted...et cetera. I have suffered quite a bit for it too. I'm angry, and I'm tired.

Friday, June 5, 2020

Arguing With White People

The author and her husband, standing in front of Preservation Hall in New Orleans
I spent a lot of my adolescence and beyond arguing with my father about racism. Basically as soon as I was old enough to understand the concept, I started challenging him about some of the stuff he said. It was probably in our top five disagreements along with the place and role of women, when he thought I should get up on a Saturday morning, and mowing the grass which I flatly refused to do. (Cut grass makes me itch and break out in red welts).

I have argued with plenty of other people about it, too. I have heard it all. I have heard weird shit you would never have thought of, because the ideology of white supremacy runs deep in this society and it has its own mythology and apologetics. There's a social ecology that supports it that is complex and has tendrils extending to many areas of life, including education, the church, literature, and yes, law enforcement and the judicial system. It has to; you can't maintain an artificial imbalance of power without a whole lot of propaganda. The same, incidentally, applies to sexism, homophobia, rigid gender ideology, et cetera. And the completeness of it is what makes it seem "natural."

It can be extraordinarily difficult to have those conversations, and not just because of fear of making a scene or being "that person" at work.  Those are real fears, albeit ones people need to learn to address and move through.  One of the gifts my father gave me is that he didn't get angry or punish my admittedly snotty adolescent righteousness, so I got to get past the scary part without any repercussions except being expected to remain civil and back up my assertions.   But even if you did not have that kind of fortune, or you do in fact suffer repercussions when you decide to start opening your mouth...it is absolutely crucial that you do so.  For the lives of others, and your own liberation.

The other big problem is that it's like fighting sand in a windstorm.  It's everywhere, it gets into everything, and you tend to wind up tired and angry with nothing much to show for it.  Do it anyway.  The results you get hardly ever show up immediately, but they build up over time.

Listening to people who are at the pointy end of white supremacy and reading about the subject is essential, especially the specific history of racism against African Americans in this country and how it functions. You can't argue a case you don't understand, and your feelings (shaped by the same white supremacist cultural propaganda that I mentioned earlier) may not be a reliable guide.  You don't have to re-invent the wheel, either, and people have spent many decades and lots of thought on analysis of the problem.  You can benefit from all of that for the price of picking up some books or following some blogs.

On the other hand, I think for white people trying to talk to other white people about racism, we need to carry the ball ourselves past a certain point.  People of color often spend their whole lives thinking about the subject, have formal education on the topic in many instances, and have lots of experience arguing with white people about racism....but it's still different when the call is coming from inside the house.  Or not as different as people might think, in some cases.  I don't think people in general really realize how quickly and sometimes violently other white people will turn on you, though the white people who died during the Civil Rights movement and the current existence of a website dedicated to doxxing white women who date outside their race should offer a clue about that. Again I say:  Do it anyway.  Just realize that your fears can be valid and exaggerated because of white supremacist cultural brainwashing at the same time.

One advantage you have is that you can easily speak in terms that other white people understand...though it has limits.  There are plenty of black people, who because of their upbringing or profession, can do that too.  Biracial people frequently have lots of experience trying to get their white relatives to see the light, unfortunately. Sometimes people enter interracial relationships either despite their parents' vehement opposition, or in some cases because of it, which can lead to some screwed up family dynamics.  Even when it's not that pointed, just because someone loves their biracial children or grandchildren it doesn't mean they have thought very deeply about race, and it is a topic that requires reflection before you can have any chance of getting the sand out of the gears.  All of the biracial people I know, including my husband, have stories about wtf moments with family or friends.  They also all know how to bridge the gaps and speak in language that their white relatives understand...and have run into situations where that simply was not enough.

Then there's the advantage granted to you just by being the person you are, in the body that you're in; what is otherwise called "privilege."  It's not a magic wand or a cure-all (as any white person who grew up poor can tell you) but it is power nonetheless.  It's a little bit of extra authority sprinkled on your voice and actions.  It won't fix everything, but that's not your job.  Your job is to speak.