All posts by In The Fray Contributor

 

When do you say ‘when?’

In this season of bingeing and purging, we invite you to measure your standards for excess. Please take a moment to complete a fun survey — and be sure to check back on February 7 to find out how your vote measures up! NOTE: This survey is closed.

 

Social Security vs. liberal insecurity

TO DO: Cash in that Social Security Check

When is a mandate a mandate? Ever since the election, Democrats have been running around like chickens with their heads cut off screaming that, “Bush does not have a mandate!” Their argument seems to hinge on the thread that even though President Bush won the election handily, with 51 percent of the vote — 49 percent still aren’t happy. Well LA DEE DA! Fifty-one percent is the essence of democracy, because 51 percent is a majority. Everywhere democracy is instituted, from boardrooms to schoolrooms to family rooms and kitchens, a majority always carries the day. If there were three people deciding where to go to dinner and two people voted for steak, and the remaining one voted for chicken, you can bet dollars to dominoes that
Beef — it’s what’s for dinner.

What is it about liberals in this country? They carp all day long about democracy, but as soon as it is exercised, they immediately take up the position that the winner now has to cater to the loser. It’s INSANE! In a New Republic published after the election, Jacob Hacker and Paul Pierson contend that the idea that Bush has a mandate is “patently absurd.” Nobody votes for all the things the candidate stands for, so why should the candidate do any of the things he promised in his campaign? That’s the way these people think. One editorial after another, and countless made-for-TV democratic “strategists” claim that Bush doesn’t have a mandate for tax cuts, doesn’t have a mandate for gay marriage, doesn’t have a mandate for abortion.

The most recent liberal to refuse the mandate is former Clinton economic advisor Gene Sperling. After Bush immediately got to work on pushing for Social Security reform (to the amazement of Democrats who never do what they campaign on), Sperling said to The Washington Post:

“All the president has shown is that you can vaguely talk about a free-lunch privatization proposal and not have that be decisively detrimental to your electoral outcome. There’s a big difference between that and having a mandate to carve up Social Security by cutting guaranteed benefits and adding significant market risk.”

Besides grossly mischaracterizing Bush’s Social Security proposal as “free-lunch privatization,” Sperling totally misses the point — the president said that this is what he’s going to do if he won the election and (wow!) this is what he’s doing after winning the election.

The point is lost on liberals though, because they still think that red-staters swung for Bush because of their predilection towards homophobia and their fear of women’s reproductive rights. Most Democrats probably still think that Heartland Republicans are too busy looking for abortion clinics to burn, which is why prominent Democrats think they can get away with calling the President’s Social Security plan a Christmas present to Wall Street.

Harry Reid, the new Senate minority leader, said, “They are trying to destroy Social Security by giving this money to the fat cats on Wall Street, and I think it’s wrong!”

Maybe it’s wrong, or maybe the American people want to grow their own money instead of spending their grandchildren’s.        

—Christopher White

 

Psychological secession

A “blue” print for half of the country’s future after the devastation of November 2.

In decades to come, historians will look back on the 2004 election — November 2, 2004 — as a turning point in the history of the United States. We crossed the Rubicon — or was it the River Styx? We are witnessing the beginning of the end of one country with the flashpoint as two divergent visions of morality and their implementation.

We have had a 229-year run, and history has taught us that nation-states are largely fragile, artificial constructs and finite. Within the context of human history, the United States’ influence is disproportionate to its physical size, population and duration, and it may prove to be insignificant and waning in influence as it retreats from any consideration of progressive issues facing the world.

Indeed in a few decades, we may well have another American revolution with the residents of so-called blue states revolting against taxation without representation in the very red federal government and declaring their independence from religious tyranny. Maybe such will lead to the physical division of our nation through blue state secession. In the meantime, I argue for something subtler: a mental separation, a psychological secession.

If our pretense to democracy was put on life support in 2000, conservatives just pulled the plug, proving that the most corrupt of administrations can lie, spin and buy their way out of the direst of electoral predicaments. Even when most Americans think that the country is on the wrong track, the current president has done a lousy job, and that most of the current administration’s policies have failed, some of those same Americans will still vote for him out of fear of something, whether it be terrorists or fags or feminists or gun-hating liberals or church-state separation or having to pay a fair share in taxes.

This year’s election was supposed to be the one in which  we made a cosmic correction. A few optimistic souls projected that more than 120 million would vote. Instead, roughly 115 million Americans voted out of nearly the 200 million eligible, meaning that about 40 percent of eligible voters did not vote in what was recognized as one of the most important elections in our lifetime. That is a travesty. Even more devastating is that we are celebrating the “high” turnout.

The Republicans’ plan for the 2004 election was twofold: increase voter turnout among conservatives in the swing states and suppress Democratic voter turnout in the same. While Republicans may not have been successful in suppressing the “Detroit” (read: urban and minority) vote, their threat to challenge the rights of over 50,000 newly registered Democrats in Ohio almost surely had a chilling effect on voter turnout in poor and minority neighborhoods in that state and probably others, which was, of course, the desired effect.

Intent not to be left on the sidelines, the corporate-owned media did their part to discourage voting with unfounded rumors of terror alerts, unsupported reports of an election-day attack, constant reminders about paperless voting machines not subject to recounts, horror stories of widespread voter irregularities, and cautionary tales of 500,000 too few poll workers by federal estimates. Increased anxiety coupled with just enough predictable voter apathy made for the perfect election storm favoring an unpopular incumbent. Maybe many were so afraid of terrorist attacks that they went shopping instead.

Were the exit polls in Florida and Ohio (and other states) really that far off? I’m sure we will never know as we can rest assured that this is not a story that our country’s media is interested in pursuing. As we witnessed in 2000, stability in election outcomes is more sacred than the accuracy or legitimacy of the election process itself. Four years ago, our country’s political power structure learned how patient the electorate would be in the face of an election crisis. Not only were we willing to affirm the legitimacy of an election where every vote was not counted, we would even allow the Supreme Court to choose our president for us.

During the time since the previous election, our corporate and political elite never wasted an opportunity to remind us how important it is for Americans to accept whatever result our faulty election process spits out. Markets like stability; whether your vote was counted correctly or counted at all doesn’t matter. The fact that we have a “clear” winner is more important than ensuring the integrity of the process that determined the winner. Despite the growing clamor for an investigation of the inconsistencies and potential fraud of November 2, 2004, none will be forthcoming. The proponents of transparency in our elections are now painted as poor losers or worse, conspiracy theorists.

Despite all their dirty tricks and the many who flouted their civic duty, the bottom line is the Republicans are still in charge. And if any doubt from 2000 lingered that we live in a deeply divided nation, it was vanquished on November 2. We now live in two countries, and rather than involving ourselves in the spectacle of the national Democrats’ self-flagellation in hopes that Republicans won’t treat them too unkindly, we need to think about moving in a new direction, our own direction. We must determine to decide our own destiny.

Abandon national politics

The national Democratic Party is now irrelevant and already scurrying to the right, dropping inconvenient progressive causes along the way, as if conservatives are ever going to choose a faux Republican when they can have the real thing. Make no mistake, we now have one national party, the GOP, which is set during the next four years to complete its work of crippling the federal government’s ability to aid those in need; its decades-long goal of destroying the New Deal and any remnant of the Great Society will have been met.

While Senate Democrats could filibuster proposed regressive legislation or votes on ultra-conservative judicial nominees, they won’t. There are just enough senators from red states who will be so frightened of losing their seats (a la Tom Daschle), that they will be quite compliant. Any way you look at it, the Republicans have a comfortable majority with which to bring about their revolution. They may not be passing constitutional amendments banning flag burning or gay marriage (at least not before the elections of 2006), but judicial nominees will sail through, our tax system will be “reformed” and what’s left of the social safety net will be unraveled.

The most useless act you can commit at this point in our nation’s history is to vote in a national election. And by the way, stop giving money to national political parties. Your time and money are better spent supporting the various charities and civic organizations that will have to expend their scant resources fighting back the red tide on every issue from civil liberties to environmental protection and filling the vacuum of leadership in Washington.

We must learn to expect nothing from the federal government except its disdain. Many say that we are now heading towards a theocracy, but I would argue that we are living in a corporate theocracy. The corporate powers that be that are running our government have promised conservative Christians a theocratic social agenda in exchange for their political support. So the corporate oligarchy gets less public regulation while the social conservatives get their desire for more regulation in the private sphere, which is the opposite of our clear blue vision for the country. Personal freedom is out; corporate freedom is in.

Support state and local organizations financially

If you are one of the lucky few to benefit from the current administration’s tax cuts, then your state government had better become your new favorite charity, especially if you live in a blue state. State governments will have to fund any public policy program that does not dovetail with our national government’s extremist agenda. And while the red states may be in for a federal tax-dollar bonanza, the blue states will be picking up the tab.

Most certainly, environmental protection will fall completely to the states, always subject of course to the feds overriding anything they don’t like; state’s rights only apply to the red states. States will have to replace Medicaid/Medicare and, eventually, social security. Corporate oversight, disaster relief, housing assistance, education assistance, and protections of civil rights and civil liberties will become the burden of the states as the funding for the federal agencies historically charged with such will be diverted to deeper tax cuts, defense and faith-based (read, Christian) charities.

The way Bush has insidiously interwoven faith-based initiatives throughout cabinet level departments is nothing short of ingenious. It can claim that the Department of Education’s budget has been increased without acknowledging that all of the increase will be earmarked for faith-based initiatives only. The same is true for Health and Human Services, the Commerce Department, and a host of others.

Thinking about ourselves in a new way

We must look to alternatives by buttressing the independence of our state and local governments and increasing our support for organizations that will be forced to absorb the responsibilities that the feds are and will be shirking or creating some sort of extra-federal system or regional systems of government or coalitions of blue states to supplant the role of the federal government.

We must also get more involved state activisim and do whatever we need to do to make blue states a haven for those fleeing the theocratic tyranny of the red states, and to create a bulwark against encroachments by our federal corporate theocracy. We must ignore the national media outlets with their democracy plazas and glib talking heads.

As media become more consolidated under the control of a handful of corporate interests with Bush’s dismantling of Federal Communications Commission corporate oversight, getting your news and information from independent and varied sources becomes paramount. Corporate media in the United States have the journalistic integrity of Pravda during the Soviet era. They act as a mouthpiece for the government, which in turn rewards them with further tax breaks coupled with less regulation of their corporate structure.

Possibly the most important task will be reigning in corporate influence in state and local politics as the failure to do so on the federal level has been a significant contributor to the demise of responsive government. We must not allow our states to follow suit; they are our last hope.

We need to overturn the most undemocratic of initiatives: term limits. On the state level, such as in a large, complex state like California, they wreak havoc on our representatives’ ability to legislate effectively and intelligently. A six or eight-year term is barely enough time for a new representative to understand fully the intricacies of a handful of issues before being banned from the statehouse. And with new representatives unable to look to veteran legislators for mentoring, the friendly neighborhood lobbyist will be more than happy to explain legislation to them and even tell them how to vote. Lobbyists, by the way, are not subject to term limits. Can you imagine firing your doctor every six years because she has been practicing too long and knows you too well?

True campaign finance reform in the blue states will have to come from the ground with our demanding the end of corporate influence money. A start would be limiting campaign contributions to natural persons only and not corporate “persons” granted personage through the pernicious legal fiction of corporate citizenship. This would not cease corporate influence completely, but it would severely restrict the flow of corporate money into politicians’ coffers. Coupled with a ban on in-kind contributions, we could forestall in the blue states what has happened in Washington and see the beginning of a new era of responsive government.

Be patient, but vigilant

Our new blue state revolution will not happen within a few months, or even years. The first step is easing into the mindset that we are on our own and will now need to fight to preserve the rights and liberties we value. And remember, you have not abandoned your country — it has abandoned you.

STORY INDEX

TOPICS > FAITH-BASED INITIATIVES

President Bush’s plan
URL:  http://www.whitehouse.gov/government/fbci/

 

Rummy’s war?

TO DO: Spend Time with your draft-age child or grandchild.

“Would you sacrifice your child to secure Fallujah?”

This brilliant question was posed by Michael Moore on numerous TV appearances before the election, but seems to be getting a lot of airplay on the rerun circuit. The most recent of which was a couple nights ago on Conan O’Brian. For a moment, hundreds must have been waiting for Conan to do his trademark hair flip and blurt out “HUUUH!” But instead he shook his head like Moore made all the sense in the world.

Apparently, Conan wouldn’t sacrifice his son.

It is interesting though, that despite being informed by Bill O’Reilly that the days of parents sacrificing their children are over in America, Moore stuck to his perverted logic. In fact, I can’t recall an instance since Vietnam (a Democrat war) where parents were required to offer up their children to either Rumplestiltskin or the United States government.

The United States Army is an all-volunteer Army, and there’s a reason for it. They don’t want whiny boys gumming up the works in the middle of a war zone. The battlefield is for men and now also for courageous women, and they weren’t sacrificed by their parents on an altar; they signed up. Many people, including Moore, argue that the Reserves and the National Guard didn’t sign up for this. What did they think they were signing up for, knitting classes? Marching lessons? You can’t be “sent without consent” when you join the military; consent is implied. When you say the oath and give your first salute and put pen to paper for a tour, you are saying, “Wherever I am needed by my country, I will go.”

Before the election and even now, the media and certain members of Congress are keeping up the gambit on the draft. Congressman Charles Wrangle, a New York Democrat, thought it would be a great idea to have a draft and produced a bill that would’ve had little Johnny trading in his short pants for fatigues right out of high school. But with the old Democrat stick-to-it-iveness and dedication to national defense, he voted against his own brainchild (H.R.163), which he wrote back in 2003.

Apparently, he was unwilling to sacrifice his son to secure Fallujah too.

Yet, amazingly while all these people seem unwilling to sacrifice their own children, many continue to demand more troops in Iraq. The thinking seems to be thus: I don’t want to send my son to Iraq, but Donald Rumsfeld should be fired for not putting more troops in Iraq. (Remember when Kerry promised two new divisions and 40,000 new special forces soldiers? I don’t recall seeing Vanessa trying on green berets.)

A more brilliant strategem cannot be conceived. Democrats, who secretly profess their anti-war beliefs, but who were quick to record their votes in favor of the war, have a great way out … blame it all on Rumsfeld! The war would’ve been over in a week if Rumsfeld had put enough boots on the ground! Our boys wouldn’t be getting killed if Rumsfeld would’ve armored the Humvees! We’re in this mess because of Rummy’s theory of a light and fast army!

Maureen Dowd of The New York Times had this to say recently: “The dreams of Rummy and the neocons were bound to collide. But it’s immoral to trap our troops in a guerrilla war without essential, lifesaving support and matériel just so a bunch of officials who have never been in a war can test their theories.”

However, while everyone is calling for Rumsfeld’s head, it might be nice to know who actually decides military budgets to pay for things like armored humvees and bullet-proof flack jackets. Any guesses, anyone? CONGRESS! The Secretary of Defense, along with the President of the United States each submits a budget to Congress, both of which usually go straight down the garbage-hole. Many of the politicians now crying about the war effort were precisely the ones voting down the military spending during the Clinton years. John Kerry nearly got away with voting to go to war without backing up his vote with the bucks. We should be examining the records of other “nay-sayers” in the same way. So the next time someone says “Whoa is us, it’s all Rummy’s fault,” tell them this isn’t Rummy’s war, Rummy wasn’t around to vote all the equipment spending down. Tell them this is Congress’ War.  

—Christopher White

 

“To-do’s” before Inauguration Day

Recently, I received an email from a cousin of mine. The substance of the email was a list of 30 things that people should do before President George W. Bush is inaugurated for the second time. Although the email was meant as a joke, my cousin inadvertently managed to sum up, in perfect language, the deepest current of the philosophy of liberalism. Liberals around the country still bare a venomous hatred for the democratically chosen President of the United States. A month has passed since the election, but many liberals are still involved in a somewhat lame campaign to put a vicious sting into the republican victory.

Comically, most of the items on my cousin’s “To Do” list are either entirely contradictory or based on gossip that has bounced around the echo chamber for so long, that lazy or disinterested people mistake it for fact. Politics is a brutal sport, and you can be sure that if someone makes an accusation and gives very little or no evidence to sustain the charge, chances are you are playing with a liberal. So, for the next several weeks, I will focus on one or more of these items that more or less summarizes the position of the liberal left in this country, and try to pound some sense into people.

TO DO: Start a day of school without saying a prayer

Liberals love the First Amendment. They love it. Liberals have an uncanny ability to use the First Amendment as both a shield and a sword. When anyone attacks a liberal for his/her ridiculous assertions to ban Christianity, back down to terrorist interests, and that George W. Bush is the reincarnation of Hitler, liberals hold up the First Amendment crying and crying, “Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Speech.”

Simultaneously, whenever somebody wants to use his freedom of speech to say a prayer before class, recite the pledge of allegiance or, most recently, try to hand out the Declaration of Independence to students, liberals rear back on their hind legs (I am convinced that liberals walk on all fours when I’m not looking), and bleat like billy goats “Seppppperation of Chuurrrrrch and Staaaaaaaaate!” Just for posterity, it’s worth mentioning that the Constitution doesn’t mention anything about a “separation of church and state.” Rather, pursuant to Article V of the Constitution, the first amended article, called “Article I,” and loosely referred to as the First Amendment says:

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibit the free exercise thereof; or abridge the freedom of speech, or of the press, or of the people peaceably to assemble.”

The amendment, along with nine others, was proposed to the states in 1789 and was ratified by most of the states by 1791. The First Amendment was passed as a reaction to the notion of a national church, such as the Church of England, from which their ancestors had fled. It was not intended to stop school children from saying a humble prayer before class or to strike down the pledge of allegiance.

Only liberals could have such a vague sense of history that they would confuse the First Amendment with a law prohibiting all expression of faith in the public sphere. Liberal groups and politicians have distorted the First Amendment to mean, “Nobody should be offended — ever.” Unless of course you are a liberal accusing the President of the United States of being a murdering fascist, then the “no offending” rule becomes sort of a loose guideline; after all, “freedom of speech, freedom of speech!”

The “no offending” rule has now blown up all over the country as Christmas draws closer. In a school in New Jersey, the holiday band performance is not allowed to even play instrumental versions of popular Christmas songs. A Christian church group is prohibited from entering a Christian float into the city’s annual parade of lights, which happens to feature a float by gay American Indians recognized as holy people; Lion Dancing, which is a Chinese New Year Tradition meant to chase away evil spirits; and German folk dancers. The parade’s spokesman, Michael Krikorian, told the Rocky Mountain News that entering a Christmas-themed float into the parade “could be disrespectful to other people who enjoy a parade each year.”

In Florida, a school disallowed any references to Christmas while simultaneously allowing the open celebration of Hanukkah and Kwanzaa. Luckily, a court overturned the school’s ruling, citing the exclusion of Christmas references as discriminatory. But, out in John Kerry land, California, a school in Cupertino, California has banned a teacher from distributing the Declaration of Independence to his students. In its “Week in Review,” The New York Times cited Charles C. Haynes, a senior scholar at the Freedom Forum’s First Amendment Center, who said that conservatives were trying to use historical documents to “back-door the introduction of religion into the curriculum.” NO! He’s discovered our dark and evil secret … we’re trying to teach kids about America by using (gasp!) American historical documents! Indeed, we have no shame.

What is puzzling though, is why conservatives even need to “back-door” teaching the influence of Christianity in a historical context. In California, where the 38-year-old Steven Williams is banned from using the Declaration of Independence because of its scary and “unconstitutional” reference to “the creator”, teachers are required to teach their eighth grade students Islam. Yes, that’s right. It offends liberals to hear the name of Jesus spoken out loud in public. Yet they are perfectly at ease sending their children to learn all the great things about a religion, which prompted 19 people to fly airplanes into the World Trade Center. One thing is for sure, if the Declaration of Independence goes, the next things to go are the Emancipation Proclamation (after all, it was God who made everyone equal, right?). In the not-too-distant future, teachers will be handing out historical documents that will have words and sections blacked-out like declassified FBI files. Still dissatisfied with the “intolerance” of the people, liberals will decide that somehow the Constitution isn’t quite in keeping with the tolerance and understanding expressed in … the Constitution, and decide that it too must be sacrificed so that there will no longer ever be a person with hurt feelings.  

—Christopher White

 

Rainbow and red

Queer American Indians from New York to San Francisco are showing both their spirits.

What surprised Sabrina Wolf, when she came out to her American Indian grandmother, was the older woman’s lack of surprise.

“I started by telling her, ‘I’m different,’” the white-haired, soft butch activist recalls. And she had this look of, ‘Yeah, I know.’ And then she said, ‘There’s people like you at home [among Indians], and it’s a good thing.”

In addition, her grandmother advised her, “You’re gonna hear … a lot in your life, that’s it’s a bad thing, here (among white people), but it’s not a bad thing, and you’ll know about it later.’”

Wolf, a lifelong San Franciscan and “urban Indian” of both white and Native ancestry, was taken aback by her grandmother’s nonchalant response — a response which, she later learned, was representative of many Native groups. The idea that various American Indian tribes historically recognized and even gave special roles to untraditionally gendered tribe members was written about in 1968, in an academic article by Professor Sue-Ellen Jacobs. But its wider acceptance has come about more recently with the development of vocal groups of queer Indians who, in addition to mining Indian history for traces of their presence, have created a modern name for people like themselves: “two-spirit.”

Coined in 1990 at an annual conference of queer-identified Native people, the International Two-Spirit Gathering, the term “two-spirit,” encompasses various American Indian traditions of tolerance and celebration of gender-variant people. Unlike modern concepts of sexuality, two-spiritedness refers less to sexual orientation than to gender, reflecting the idea that in a single person, both masculine and feminine energies may reside. Prior to the conference, the concept was referred to by different terms in each tribe: For example, winkte in Lakota, a Sioux dialect, nádleehí in Navajo, or problematically called berdache, a French word sometimes translated as “slave boy.”

As an active member of the Bay Area American Indian Two-Spirits (BAAITS), a group organized in 1998 out of Gay American Indians (a product of 1970s San Francisco), Wolf now knows that two-spirits have a long and respected history within many North American tribes. With her own knowledge of two-spirit tradition, Wolf’s grandmother was receptive to the news that her granddaughter wasn’t straight. In contrast, Wolf hardly considered coming out to her white family, who seemed hostile to queer sexuality.  

Similarly, Miko Thomas, a Chickasaw member of BAAITS, originally from Oklahoma, was relieved by his Native father and grandfather’s nonchalance at his coming out —  a far cry from his white mother’s unease.

But not all Indians have been accepting. The tradition of giving respected roles to specially gendered tribe members came under attack from colonization and Christianization, was all-but erased in official histories until the 1950s, and still finds resistance today. Reclaiming two-spirit identity is an enterprise fraught with intertribal tensions — made still more difficult by the political endangerment of the Native community. And yet it offers American Indians a unique queer space, one both cozily familiar and excitingly new, organized along different principles than the mainstream, majority-white queer world.

Harlan Pruden, founder of the Northeast Two-Spirit Society, decorates his office with photos of people who are out, proud, and Indian.

Creating a two-spirit community

In New York City, the challenge of organizing two-spirit communities has been taken on by Harlan Pruden, the square-jawed and impeccably put-together founder of the newly-formed Northeast Two-Spirit Society.  Leaning back at his desk at New York’s Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) Community Center, where he works as a coordinator of an anti-addiction program, Pruden muses on history, surrounded by splashy photos of drag queens and powwows.

“There was a time on this land in which we did have full equality,” he comments. “There was a gender analysis with an open acceptance of same-sex couples and relationships. There was a place for all of it, and I think that it’s a shame that it’s been ignored.” Pruden sees this history as crucial to current two-spirit identity. “There is a model there that can be reactivated, claimed and worked on”, he says, although he adds hastily, “There is no going back to a traditional model.”

Much of Pruden’s own knowledge of Native practices and attitudes regarding queer people comes from anthropologist Walter L. Williams’ 1986 book, The Spirit and the Flesh. Drawing on interviews in a variety of North American tribes, primarily in the United States, Williams highlights how, prior to colonial interference, two-spirit peoples were privileged to traverse the gender line by walking freely between gendered tents, for example, or taking on both types of gendered work — hunting and beadwork. In many cases, specific ritual roles, like holding the eagle’s wing or blessing marriages, were designated for two-spirit people. Compensation for ritual services meant that two-spirit people often prospered within their communities, and could use their financial wherewithal to support adopted children.

Pruden notes that the current LGBT movement traces its history from events that are largely European, Western, or relatively recent, like New York’s 1969 Stonewall riots, in which gay bar patrons protested a police raid. Of this limited perspective, Pruden says, “To me, that’s bullshit.”

And there is evidence to back him up. The 1980s and 1990s saw a host of publications and research on gay Native traditions. Yet, while Pruden hopes to raise awareness of Native communities’ traditional acceptance, tolerance, and even reverence of gender-variant people, and to draw strength from an authentic queer history, he has no illusions that a complete history can be uncovered, or should be.

According to Pruden, the history of acceptance toward queer identity in American Indian culture has been concealed by two major factors: colonial suppression of Native sexual tolerance, and Christian Indians’ rejection of traditional practice.

Thus, for most American Indians, identifying as two-spirit is a process of discovery, not an organic outgrowth of living in modern communities. Pruden explains that, “even if there is a reactivation or an honoring of two-spirit people, sometimes there’s not even an explanation because of the stigma associated with it.”

Pruden recalls being approached, after a lecture on his Woodlands Cree reservation in Northeastern Alberta, Canada, by a woman who said she finally understood why, during the men’s sweat lodge, the medicine men permitted her gay cousin to hold the eagle’s wing — a role of honor traditionally accorded to a two-spirit person. “[T]hat elder was reactivating and staying true to the tradition,” explains Pruden, “by finding someone who was queer-identified and giving him that high office.” Prior to Pruden’s talk on two-spirit traditions, however, the man’s cousin “had no point of reference, as a straight woman, to know what was happening before her.”

“You have to start looking for things that are incredibly subtle,” continues Pruden, “and if you’re an outsider, or it’s not of your tradition, you can’t even see what’s going on.”

Seeking suppressed traditions of tolerance

Jeannette Torres, the only female member in the nascent Northeast Two-Spirit Society, angrily recounts the violence visited upon two-spirit people in the colonial era. Torres is of both Peruvian and Puerto Rican heritage, but she identifies mainly with her Incan lineage, having been raised by her father’s Peruvian family who immigrated to the United States in the 1950s. With her pixie haircut, men’s clothing and lipstick, she seems an apt illustration of the gender play inherent in the two-spirit idea. Her black eyes flash as she describes the brutal treatment of two-spirit people by European colonists. “When these colonists came, British and Spanish, they practically decimated us,” she says. “The communities kind of hid what was left of their [queer] people — either hid them, or kept it on the down-low.”

On top of colonial persecution came Christian rejection of the two-spirit tradition. Miko Thomas was combing through his great-grandfather’s Bibles in his native Oklahoma when he found a sermon condemning a Choctaw stomp-dance leader who “either condoned homosexuality or he himself was homosexual.” For Thomas, it was proof-positive that two-spirits had existed previously. “This was the first time that I ever saw anything like this about my tribe.” Previously, a Christian elder in his tribe had told him, “‘There are no gay Indians. There were never any gay Indians.’”

Pruden likewise contends that he has “met elders that just lied to me — Christian elders, rather than traditionalist elders.” At an American Indian men’s health summit, Pruden says, he asked an elder what the word was for “the two-spirit folk. And he’s like, what is two-spirit? So I explained, and he goes, ‘I know what that is — the word is wiktigu.’ Wiktigu is a cannibalistic spirit … a way of keeping kids close to the camp.”

Harlan says his confusion cleared, however, when he heard the elder speak, claiming that the medicine bow is a symbol for the Christian cross, and that braided sweetgrass symbolized the holy Trinity. “I just dismissed what he said, and since then I went seeking actual, traditional elders.”

The lack of open, explicit dialogue about queerness in Native culture means that most two-spirit people, as Thomas laments, “have to go through a book to find where you’re represented as a gay Indian.” The dearth of research on specific aspects of two-spirit life can be frustrating; there’s a notable lack of information on two-spirit women, a gap that Pruden attributes to male privilege: “We live in a patriarchal society. Who has the choice and the power to sit around and write?” He points out that Walter L. Williams himself is a white gay man.

However, some two-spirit people have found that tolerance is nonetheless expressed in Native communities — if not through explicit practice, in quieter, everyday behavior.  Ben Geboe, one of the founders of Wewa and Barcheampe, a previous effort at two-spirit organizing in New York City, found that in his Native community, being queer set him apart but did not isolate him. Blue-eyed and pale-skinned, he is usually read, racially, as white, but is of both Sioux and Norwegian descent, and grew up on a reservation in Mission, South Dakota. Growing up, Geboe recalls, “People knew that I was very effeminate.” Though he was sometimes called winkte, a Sioux word that translates, roughly, as “woman’s way,” Geboe explains that “it was never derogatory, never meant as an insult. It was more a kind of joking, a subtle ribbing.” Both his Sioux and his Norwegian family were supportive of his coming out.

Torres shares Pruden’s frustration with the lack of research on women, and adds that she remains uneasy with some extinct two-spirit traditions, as uncovered in books like Williams’s. She explains that two-spirited peoples sometimes did not self-identify, but were designated as such. In a family of five boys, Torres posits, the youngest might be chosen to be two-spirit, and raised accordingly. Selection might be based on a child’s predilection to gender-bend, but it was nonetheless an elder’s selection.

Furthermore, the sexual aspects of some two-spirit traditions, not practiced today, are another source of discomfort for Torres. For instance, in some traditions, a male-to-female two-spirited person would be expected to take a formerly straight male lover. “This man considered it a privilege to be taken sexually or just picked, in general, by a two-spirit person as their partner —  it’s like being chosen by a god,” she explains. Sometimes this partnership was only temporary, its duration determined by the two-spirit partner, “And this man [the straight partner] would go back to being straight again.”

Torres is reluctant to revere such practices, which she finds incredible from a contemporary vantage point. “I can’t see taking on a straight lover even if it’s for a million dollars,” she muses. How could a straight man, she wonders, be expected to take on a gay one?

A gender emphasis – “it’s not about who you’re fucking”

Pruden acknowledges the tension between modern, sexuality-oriented identifications and the two-spirit concept. “It’s a gender theory — it has nothing to do with sexual orientation,” he says. “Some nations have as many as five distinct genders. Each has a role and a responsibility as well as a sphere within the context of the community.” However, because “today, it’s gay-identified Native Americans who are two-spirit identified . . . that component of gender is basically taken out in practice.”

For example, Pruden notes that while some two-spirits in reservation settings are taking up traditional two-spirit roles again, such as ceremonial cooking, healing, and telling sacred stories, they “do couple up with other two-spirited people in a contemporary way,” rather than taking a straight identified partner as was tradition. As Torres mentions, it’s not a change that most two-spirit people today would lament.

However, as Pruden points out, the traditional emphasis on gender, rather than sexuality, expands the discussion from sex to society. “It’s not about who you’re fucking — it has nothing to do with sex.” Unlike sexual orientation, gender “something that is distinctly ours — that we perform within the community,” argues Pruden. Two-spirit people, he says, must grapple with the question of “‘What is our role within the community at large?’ not just ‘Who am I sleeping with?’”

The emphasis upon a socially-situated role is, for many Native Americans, a welcome change from mainstream queer communities, which often focus on personal identity as separate from the political, cultural and spiritual spheres that form the foundation of two-spirit groups.

Due to the myriad modern threats to American Indian communities, such as marginalization, poverty, poor education, alcoholism and other diseases, Ben Geboe says, people who identify as two-spirit “are more concerned about the racial and ethnic issues than they are about gay and lesbian issues.” Issues such as gay marriage, argues Geboe, are petty compared to American Indians’ struggle to survive as an ethnic community. “We’re still fighting for land, we’ve still got these social problems, we have the highest incidence of disease,” he says.  

Thomas agrees that his primary allegiance, as an activist, is to the Native community. Growing up on his Oklahoma reservation, he explains, “this whole structure around you … says that you need to be politically active,” especially in the hostile political climate generated by anti-Native groups such as One Nation, which has advocated against tribal sovereignty.

Wolf agrees that “gay is second to our role as a two-spirit person walking in the world.” In her view, two-spirit identity is informed by the deep spirituality inherent in Native tradition. “A lot of two-spirit people view themselves as called to a kind of spiritual service,” she remarks.  

Wolf feels that this spiritual emphasis, compounded with the problems of “alcoholism and drug addiction on the rez”, lends two-spirit gatherings a different tenor than mainstream queer events. “Our meetings aren’t all about partying,” she says, noting that almost any two-spirit event will include a prayer or speech by an elder.

“There are people of color who are gay, and there are white people who are gay”

The communal concerns of two-spirit people can generate discomfort for them in mainstream queer communities. “The LGBT movement is fighting for equality,” argues Pruden, “but it’s equality in a model that is being basically driven by white privilege.”

Geboe perceives a racial divide in urban gay life: “You can be [white and] gay, live in Minnesota, and come to New York and feel that you’ve arrived in this mecca, and that everything in this world is there to promote your survival as a person.” In contrast, he continues, “You can come to New York as a Native American from South Dakota, and if you’re a person of color, immediately understand that there are two [queer] societies —there are people of color who are gay, and there are white people who are gay.”

Besides their shared political and spiritual concerns, two-spirit people take comfort in not being tokenized in Native settings, the way they frequently are in the larger queer community. Before Wewa and Barcheampe formed, Geboe explains, ”it seemed like we were doing more for the overall gay and lesbian community than we were doing for ourselves,” constrained to perform as ethnic “representatives” symbolizing the diversity of the gay community.

Wolf complains that “in the gay community at large, we’re sort of a novelty, or we don’t exist — because in mainstream society, we don’t exist.” Two-spirit gatherings are one of the few places where Harlan says he doesn’t feel a need to “take count” to determine his comfort level. Normally he says he asks himself, “Is this safe or is this not safe?  How many people of color are here?  How many other gays?” However, he feels, “When I go to these two-spirit gatherings, I never count. I don’t have to count. It’s very affirming.”

Two-spirit people also draw from experiences of poverty on the reservation that, Wolf notes, are typically far removed from the experience of white Americans. Thomas explains that, for rural gay Indians in particular, the cultural connection is essential as they seek new communities in larger cities. “For us it’s very important to connect with people we identify with. Growing up impoverished is something that unites us.”

Thomas reflects, “You can’t just joke around with Caucasian people, saying, ‘Yeah, when I was a little kid, I used to have to haul water, so we could take a bath.’” In his experience, such anecdotes are often met with disbelief or derision. For the approximately 1.2 million American Indians who live on reservations, however, “That’s just a part of our lives!”

Creating two-spirit culture across tribes

At the same time, the intertribal reach of two-spirit organizing presents its own problems. “Some tribes don’t have a tradition of tolerance of lesbian and gay activity,” Geboe remarks. Consequently, there are a number of Native people who view two-spirit traditions “as an outside thing coming in, and not as something that’s always been there and now is more visible.” He discovered this hurdle himself in an “uncomfortable confrontation” at a Native conference, in which “this elder got up and said that everything we [two-spirit organizers] were doing was wrong.” Intertribal respect, however, prevailed, and it was agreed that the tribes’ traditions differed.

Within two-spirit groups, tribal diversity can also be problematic, but, paradoxically, may produce greater solidarity. “When we come together,” Wolf explains, “we have different traditions around how you say the prayers, and how you have rituals and ceremonies. The interesting this is, when we get together and ask [those questions] we find that, you guys may do this little thing a little bit different” but there’s a basic “connectedness.” In a way, she remarks, “we’re creating two-spirit identity all the time.”

At a time when the queer community on the whole is grappling with its priorities and considering new privileges such as marriage, military service, and adoption, two-spirit organizations like Pruden’s offer an alternative model of queer empowerment.

Reflecting on two-spirit and mainstream gay communities, Geboe summarizes the difference: “The gay way,” he says, ”is that you become gay, you live in the gay community and you do things that identify you with the gay community. The two-spirited way is that you’re a Native American first, and that’s your culture, but there’s also this gayness. But it’s integrated with your culture. It’s something you don’t leave to become.”

Author’s note
Tribal names have been chosen in accordance with the preferred terms of those interviewed. For the purposes of this article, the terms ‘American Indian’, ‘Native American’, and ‘Native’ have been used interchangeably to describe persons descended from the original, tribally-organized peoples of North and South America.

In this article, the term ‘queer’ is used to describe all people who either do not identify as straight, do not identify as the same gender as their biological sex at birth, or both.

STORY INDEX >

The Northeast Two-Spirit Society meets on the 2nd Wednesday of each month, from 8 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. at New York City’s LGBT Center.

BOOKS >
Purchase these books through Powells.com and a portion of the proceeds benefit InTheFray

Two-Spirit People: Native American Gender Identity, Sexuality, and Spiritualityby Sue-Ellen Jacobs, Wesley Thomas, Sabine Lang
URL: http://www.powells.com/cgi-bin/partner?partner_id=28164&cgi=product&isbn=0252066456

Changing Ones: Third and Fourth Genders in Native North America
by Will Roscoe
URL: http://www.powells.com/cgi-bin/partner?partner_id=28164&cgi=product&isbn=0312224796

Living the Spirit: A Gay American Indian Anthology
Edited by Will Roscoe
URL: http://www.powells.com/cgi-bin/partner?partner_id=28164&cgi=product&isbn=031203475x

Spirit and the Flesh: Sexual Diversity in American Indian Culture                     by Walter Williams
URL: http://www.powells.com/cgi-bin/partner?partner_id=28164&cgi=product&isbn=0807046159

ORGANIZATIONS >

Bay Area American Indian Two-Spirits
URL: http://www.baaits.org
The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Community Center
URL:http://www.gaycenter.org

Northwest Two-Spirit Society
URL:http://www.nwtwospiritsociety.org/index.html

 

Sufis of the Dargahs

A pilgrimage on the path to divine love and knowledge.

Click here to enter the visual essay.

Nehi, nehi sahib…nehi” murmurs the elderly man as I step into the marbled area that houses the saint’s shrine. I stop in my tracks, and he pats his head repeatedly while pointing at mine. I belatedly realize that I should have worn some sort of head cover in deference to Islamic tradition. I search my pockets for a handkerchief to use instead, but the man removes his white cotton skullcap and hands it to me with a smile.

I am at the dargah of Hizrat Nizzamuddin Auliya, a shrine of the revered Sufi saint. It is situated in Basti, reputedly one of the oldest continuously inhabited areas in Delhi. To reach it, I walked along labyrinthine medieval alleys amongst colonies of maimed beggars, stopped to admire the dexterous handiwork of a professional ear-cleaner administering his craft to a client, ambled past countless butcher shops with gory displays of goat carcasses, dingy kebab eateries, and ignored the well-rehearsed entreaties of stall keepers selling skullcaps, rosaries and religious posters of Mecca and of Islamic calligraphy.

Sufism is generally known as “Islamic Mysticism,” in which its adherents seek to find divine love and knowledge through direct personal experience of God. The position of mainstream Islam towards Sufism range from dismissing it as an inoffensive faction to considering it as a dangerous heretic movement because of its open embrace of people from all religions. Nizamuddin Auliya was a 14th century Muslim mystic who withdrew from the world and whose message of prayer, love, and the unity of all matters was admired and faithfully followed by Sufis in the Asian subcontinent and beyond.

Leaving my shoes at one of the stalls, I entered the outer periphery of the dargah, joining a crowd of pilgrims carrying large trays of rose petals destined to be strewn on the actual catafalque of the sainted man. Some of the pilgrims were whispering verses from the Quran, and were careful not to jostle each other as they made their way towards the shrine. People lined both sides of the long narrow alleyway leading to the heart of the shrine; some were asleep, others standing and a few sat, chatting with abandon.

A small woman, with sad eyes, sits quietly with her back to the whitewashed walls of the narrow entranceway. I engage her in conversation by smiling a lot and nodding at her responses. A man nearby serves as an impromptu translator, telling me that her name is Halima, that she is a penniless widow and that she is here for the free dhal and bread doled out daily by the shrine’s organization to the needy. In fact, all of the people around us are waiting for their only good meal of the day. A fierce-looking gray-bearded man glowers at me, probably resenting my intrusion. But it is Halima who captures my imagination and interest.

Further along on a marble platform, a lone woman is deep in prayer and genuflects towards Mecca. Women are not allowed within the inner sanctorum of the shrine, but many are busily tying colored strings and ribbons to the white marble trellis carved by early artisans, which surrounds the saint’s tomb. It is the traditional way for supplicants to request favors from the saint. I am told that some of the women are expectant, and praying for a male child.

Wearing my borrowed skullcap, I stand deferentially before the tomb of Hazarat Auliya. Contrary to more traditional teachings of mainstream Islam, pilgrims prostrate themselves on the floor, murmuring prayers and supplications. Petals of red roses are strewn over the green silk shroud covering the marble tomb. I circumambulate the tomb’s perimeter, and make eye contact with a boy of perhaps no more than six. Ali has an earnest expression, and seems very serious. He is clearly dressed in his best clothes; a burgundy blazer and a spotless white skullcap like mine. I try to speak with him, but he just stands there transfixed by the sight of my cameras. His father hovers nearby, demonstrably proud of his son. Everyone in this area appears to radiate an inner peace, calm and a tangible tolerance for others.

It does not last for long. As I turn to leave the tomb’s site, a khaddim advances towards me with an open notebook. The shrine’s often self-appointed guardians are aggressive in their soliciting donations from pilgrims and visitors, and more often than not, donations end up in the wrong hands. He gruffly asks me for a donation of no less than 5,000 rupees, and using a technique that must have intimidated tourists before, proffers the notebook to show me hastily scribbled entries of donated amounts.

I ignore the theatrics, and greet him with the traditional Muslim “Al-salaam aleikum.” The book quickly disappears from view as he asks me for confirmation that I am a Muslim. His eyes are already darting left and right in search for another mark, and when he gets the confirmation, he slinks out of sight, muttering excuses and apologies. In Islam, charity is largely voluntary.

The skullcap weighs heavily in my hand as I look for its owner. All I know is that he has a gentle smile and a small white beard. I walk up and down the main entranceway, in the various other subordinate shrines and passages, and look among the pillars. But to no avail, the man has vanished among the ancient alleys of the neighborhood, having gifted his knitted skullcap to a stranger. “

A still from The Naked Feminist, a documentary directed by Louisa Achille. Louisa Achille

Naked Feminists: A Conversation with Director Louisa Achille

Performers in the adult film industry are breaking one of the biggest taboos a woman can break: having sex on camera for money. Louisa Achille made her documentary The Naked Feminist to give them a voice.

A still from The Naked Feminist
A still from The Naked Feminist, a documentary directed by Louisa Achille. Louisa Achille

Click here to read In The Fray‘s interview with Christi Lake, one of the subjects of The Naked Feminist.

What inspired you to make the documentary?

I became inspired to make The Naked Feminist after reading a magazine article on the famous porn star, Nina Hartley, declaring her feminist sensibilities and strengths as a sex entertainer and educator — a career spanning over seventeen years. I wanted to know if Nina was a rare exception in this male-dominated industry.

Feminism‚ is a somewhat contentious term that different people define in different ways. From your film, I get the sense that you define it in terms of being empowered and in control of oneself. Would you say that’s a pretty accurate characterization of your definition?

I think feminism for many women means different things, but for me it is essentially about choice and giving women a voice. I think once a woman has her voice and can make choices for herself, then empowerment, self-identity, and courage will follow.

Why did you choose the particular actresses you used in your film? They seem like a fairly close-knit group, which I found very interesting. It made the pornography film industry seem much smaller than I imagined.

It was important for me to interview women who had a number of years experience in the industry so I could gauge the progress (or lack of progress) women had made in the adult entertainment industry.

Once I met Jane Hamilton and read about CLUB 90, I became completely inspired by this group of renegade female sex performers. They had created the first porn-star support group for women. They have not only created a strong sisterhood amongst themselves, but [they] also have become incredible mentors and role models to other women in the industry. I consider these women to be the first feminists in the industry, and of course their voices are a crucial element in a film depicting feminist sensibilities within the world of adult entertainment. Nina Hartley, Sharon Mitchell, and Christi Lake [have] all made incredible strides within the industry – Nina as a sex radical, performer, educator, and mentor, Sharon cofounding the first medical clinic devoted to the health and emotional needs of people in the industry, and Christi through her political activism and entrepreneurial insight.

All industries are much smaller and [more] tightly knit than they seem, and this is fairly evident once you start working within mainstream Hollywood, and similarly with the adult entertainment industry — especially within the same country. However, I think it is even more so with the adult entertainment industry, as the people within that industry have been under attack from legislators, the government, and the public far more than any other industry, and thus have banded together to fight for freedom of speech and other essential rights such as freedom of expression.

The adult entertainment industry is also an industry where the performers, especially the women, are breaking one of the biggest taboos a woman can break — that is, having sex on camera for money … Since only a small percentage of women enter into this occupation, they are going to get to know each other, and some will form bonds.

There is a peculiar absence of men in your film — aside from Seymour Butts — even though men are an integral component of the porn industry as both producers and consumers. The absence of men in The Naked Feminist seems to be a smart stylistic move to depict women as the agents of the porn industry and their stories. Did you consider interviewing other men besides Seymour, and if so, why are they not included in the edited version of the film? And what is so special about Seymour that caused him to make the cut?

I interviewed a number of men — journalists, directors, writers, and performers in the adult entertainment industry — and they were included in every cut except for my final cut … I made this film to give women in the industry a voice, and I didn’t want to lose sight of that. Thus, if a woman spoke about a similar experience or point of view as a man [I interviewed], I chose to keep [it] in the woman’s voice. This film is about [the women in the pornography industry] and their experiences, not the men’s. Even though I do consider [the men’s] viewpoints and experiences to also be incredibly valid, they essentially didn’t belong in this film.

Seymour Butts has one big specialty, in my opinion. No, only joking. The reason I was so interested in keeping Seymour in the film was because of his huge female fan base. Even though his main target audience is men, he has all these women that love him and his porn films. When you go to the big adult entertainment conventions, it is always astounding to see the number of women — of all ages and nationalities — waiting to get autographs from him. It was nice to illustrate this role reversal and disprove the right-wing feminist mantra that no women like pornography.

I noticed that The Naked Feminist doesn’t explicitly address homosexuality and lesbian erotica. However, from what I have read, queer porn is particularly important for women and men who are questioning their sexuality or who are insecure about being involved with members of the same sex. Do you think there is any particular reason why your film ended up having a heterosexual slant?

I don’t think The Naked Feminist explicitly addresses heterosexual erotica either, but you are right, that it is the main genre of pornography that is delved into. That is mainly because heterosexual pornography is the most popular and most historic type of pornography out there. But this was not at all intentional. I did not look at sexual orientation when I made this film.  I was more interested in the female sexual pioneers and entrepreneurs who had made an impact on the industry and made working conditions for women better, or who were making strides in today’s mainstream porn world. There are so many subgenres in pornography, and I am sure that many women and men are empowered by the different types. However, that discussion is, I believe, for another film…. I would like to add that many of the women interviewed are gay, bisexual, polysexual, and heterosexual. A wonderful mix, really.

Your documentary argues that some pornography is, in fact, misogynistic and that such films are not the type of porn that the women you interviewed condone. How can one differentiate between misogynistic and nonmisogynistic porn? The presence of violence? Consent (or the lack thereof)? Women both in front of and behind the camera? Or just the gut reaction of women involved in the film?

Subjectivity, taste, and consent will always creep into discussions regarding pornography, and especially pornography and misogyny. I don’t think there is one exact definition of misogynist porn, and I don’t think there is a subgenre [that] supports it. However, when I was making this film, I did encounter a disturbing trend in the industry to push the boundaries of sexual violence towards women as far as possible. I think this is mainly a knee-jerk shock tactic to gain notoriety in the business, and it might possibly exist as a backlash against the positive strides that women have made in the industry.  I don’t believe that the companies making this stuff represent the industry as a whole. However, the fact that this type of material (e.g., women being beaten to a pulp whilst being gang-raped, made to vomit whilst giving oral [sex], and [being] punched around the head) is being produced saddens me, and in my opinion, it is misogynist, as it is illustrating a hatred towards women.

Do you sense some urgency to disrupt the taboo associated with pornography in general, or is your goal merely to enable the women you interviewed to speak their stories and perspectives? What is it that you seek to contribute to the ongoing dialogue regarding sex and sexuality in Western culture (if anything)?

I made The Naked Feminist to give the women in pornography a voice. To me, the film is less about breaking down the taboo associated with pornography and more about breaking down the taboo associated with women who chose to be sexual educators and entertainers. When a man chooses to work in pornography, he is rarely viewed as being exploited or objectified. In reality, the money shot and the penis are the most objectified aspects of the genre.  I really think it is time to get rid of this antiquated double standard.

What, if anything, do you hope to contribute to the independent film industry with The Naked Feminist? Is there anything you hope other filmmakers (adult entertainment or otherwise) will take from seeing your film?  Is there anything you hope viewers will take from seeing it?

I would like to contribute tolerance and acceptance to the [feminist] movement. It would be nice if some of the dominant women’s groups would accept these women’s choices, help them to change the system, and make it safer for women instead of denying them their voice and validity.

Click here to read In The Fray‘s interview with Christi Lake, one of the subjects of Achille’s documentary.

UPDATE, 3/8/13: Edited and moved story from our old site to the current one.

 

The tragedy of the un-commons

On November 2, queer Democrats put our personal interests aside in deference to the Big Picture. Our loss and the subsequent calls for a rightward track by the Democratic party leave us with a tough choice: Abandon the party that would abandon us or stick with the Democrats to change their strategy from within.

For progressives everywhere, November 3, 2004, was a dark day. But in my little gay corner of my little gay neighborhood in Park Slope, Brooklyn, it felt like those Red State voters had delivered me a stinging bitch-slap before heading back to church in their flag-festooned minivans. It felt that personal.

I wasn’t prepared for a second Bush victory. The Bush administration’s blundering policies seemed so outrageous that no rational person could cast a ballot in their favor.  Even my father, a lifelong Republican, held his nose and voted for Kerry. “At least Kerry’s a professional,” he said.  “I didn’t want to vote for somebody who just swaggers around the world carrying a big stick.”    

And so did I, as a lesbian and a hard-line liberal, despite Kerry’s disavowal of my right to marry and transparent discomfort with homosexuality.  

The decision wasn’t easy. On political blogs like DailyKos.com, I defended my choice to would-be Nader voters who believed a Kerry vote was selling out. I was frequently the first to confront anyone advocating a ‘protest vote.’ This election, I argued, was too important. We had to put our ideals into perspective, and save the marriage issue for another time when wars were not being waged on false premises and when rich people were not lining their pockets with money skimmed from schools and healthcare cuts.

My rationale was that if we liberals could swallow our distaste for Kerry’s quasi-conservative social outlook, he would be forced to recognize us and our ideals for the sake of party unity after he was safely installed in the White House. Just as Republicans had made a sharp right turn in response to the realization that they could not win without their ‘conservative Christians,’ I believed that the Democrats would see that they needed to address the values of gay liberals to maintain power. I could never contemplate a loss long enough to wonder what would happen if Kerry didn’t make it.

Despite the endless election cycle nattering of “moderate” Democrats who worried that “the gays” were the new Greens, it was still a shock to wake up November 3 and find myself on the sacrificial altar of political strategy. In the time it took the pundits to declare that the election had turned on “moral values,” gay Democrats had been branded as traitorous wraiths who had robbed Kerry of the presidency. The “gay marriage movement” was blamed for the Democrats’ loss, and Democrats were angry — in the elegant words of one irate blogger: “Thanks homos, it won’t happen again.”

Everyone from the armchair activists in the blogosphere to party luminaries including Senator Dianne Feinstein and openly gay Representative Barney Frank were urging the party to “move right” on social issues to become electable for the next round. America is not ready for gay marriage, they argued. Feinstein claimed that gay marriage “energize[d] a very conservative vote,” saying “The whole issue has been too much, too fast, too soon.”

It is hard to say when exactly a society is ready to correct the injustices of ingrained prejudice. America certainly was not ready to abolish slavery in 1860, when Abraham Lincoln was elected; nor to grant women suffrage in 1872, when Susan B. Anthony was arrested for voting; nor for interracial marriage, even after the 1967 Supreme Court ruling that declared anti-miscegenation laws unconstitutional. These social revolutions were brought about by the tenacity and conviction of their most passionate advocates, leaders — Lucretia Mott, Susan B. Anthony, Martin Luther King, to name a few — who emerged from the crowd to focus a movement and achieve its objectives.  

I know Kerry would not have been a revolutionary, but I believed he would have assumed leadership with a sense of fairness that is utterly lacking in Bush’s far-right radicalism.  More importantly, I believed the he would have allowed change to happen, even if he did not openly advocate it. But in the wake of the election fiasco, the Democratic hand-wringing turned to blood-letting, and rather than reacquainting themselves with their core values of social justice and civil rights, Democrats tacked even harder right, attempting to capture the ever-elusive “swing-voter,” and leaving the rest of us dangling.    

It is a painful place to be. Being treated as a pariah in my own party felt like the sucker-punch follow-up to that Red State bitch-slap. But in Park Slope, Brooklyn, and across the country on websites and in cafes, we are licking our wounds and trying to regroup.  We are discussing strategy, getting involved in local politics where our voices can be heard, and strengthening our own ties in order to fortify us for the long battle ahead.

Perhaps it was foolish to hope that a radical shift in the cultural bias against gays was so near at hand. But it is easy to forget how far we’ve come.  When I was born, homosexuality was a mental illness. Now it is the subject of a popular sitcom. Gay couples have gotten married with varying degrees of legality across the nation, and we have innumerable pop-culture icons that are openly gay. These small things signify a greater cultural shift, and when a critical mass is reached, new leaders will emerge as they have in the past.

It took a bloody war to end slavery, the better part of a century for women to win the right to vote, and the fight for Civil Rights continues today. These battles were fought with bayonets and horses across the Mason-Dixie line, over kitchen tables in homes, and at lunch counters in the segregated South. Now, they’re taking place on the steps of City Hall. Last year thousands of gay couples lined up to be married in San Francisco, California; New Paltz, New York; Sandoval County, New Mexico; Portland, Oregon; Asbury, New Jersey; and across the state of Massachusetts.

Like any good homo, I know when the party’s over, but I am not quite ready to leave the Democratic one, despite the ugly turn it has taken.  I can’t shake the feeling that enough of us minorities together make up a majority. I can’t stop thinking that this party could get rocking again if Democrats would look back to their own ideals of protecting the rights of minorities and promoting equality for all, rather than routing out those voters who pulled the lever for Bush because the idea of two fags getting married made their skin crawl. I want to be there when it does.  

STORY INDEX

The writer
Keely Savoie, InTheFray Contributor

 

Propositions

Hustling money takes more than a friendly smile. You must have an inviting body and a complicated, but necessary, façade.

Hands. White hands. They wipe my face, pulling my eyes like tears, reaching, clawing, gripping my skin, fingerprints sapping my breath. I am thrown down, thrown back, over thrown, hair splayed, marking the ground with sweat and salt. I want to whimper and laugh and explode. I am pressed down, held like a ball underwater, struggling, pushing up and out like a flower about to burst, spilling bloody petals on the ground. I turn my head. There is my apron and coat, my underwear, torn now amid the ashes, petals and faded paper dolls. All my pieces scattered. I am raveling and undone, dying a little more with every breath, nerves surging, tingling, numb and dead, and then alive. So this is what it feels like to bleed.

1 a.m.

That sign — “Welcome to Tony’s! Please wait to be seated!” — stands like a barrier between two selves. Inside, apron covered in the conglomerate filth of bleach water, finger smears, and clumsy spills, you are the waitress, the server, the sweet smiling slave. You are “Sugar,” “Peaches,” “Hon,” “Miss,” “Sweet Thing,” “Girl,” and “Little Lady.” You nod. You say, “Excuse me, sir,” and “Will there be anything else, sir?” Manners all aglow.

A snide remark about a glass of water — why can’t you seem to find one? Meanwhile, you are remembering that table 22 and 24 both need refills, the little girl at 5 wants color crayons, no mushrooms in the omelette to 32, and could you please get the change for 25’s $20 bill? Simple glass of water? You’re waiting 13 tables, remembering the details of 28 food orders and carrying seven plates in your two hands. But you want a lemon wedge with your water. “I’m sorry, sir, it will be just a moment.” Smile. Your happiness is my only concern.

A snap of the fingers, the bang of a coffee cup, tight tug at the strings of your apron. Passed around like a million sirs’ play thing. “Excuse me, miss. Excuse me, miss.”And you smile, nod, acquiesce. It’s what you have to do for that fifty cent tip that means you can still make this month’s rent.

The slap on the ass (“Damn, ain’t you still just a spring chicken”), the leering, the propositions (“And how much for a side of you after my meal, Sugar?), and you laugh coyly, feign a stolen naivety, pretend to be flattered. You’re their sweet-assed, long-legged, firm-breasted meat for eight hours a day.

Behind the line you’ll cringe at the crap-covered napkins that wiped their grease and snot and spit. You’ll whisper all the curses and smart-assed comebacks that would get you fired out on the floor. You’ll hate that unctuous bastard, pray for salmonella in his eggs, imagine burning his ass the next time he touches yours.

But right now, you smile and nod and acquiesce, because you have to. For these few moments, this is who you are. Under skin and smile and nod, you’re their chosen play toy for a penny — their bartender, cook, their mother, maid and whore.

3 a.m.

The room inside Tony’s diner was a world unto itself at three in the morning. The yellowed lights and cigarette smoke hovered stagnant, blending the bacon grease and coffee smells into a solitary haze. Reflections bounced off the windows, hollow shadows echoing between the walls.

I watched a lazy taxi pull away, hoisting off the last of the drunks. No doubt he was already regretting his omelette and French toast as he stumbled, nauseous, into the seat. Somewhere out there, in that void beyond those two double doors (“Welcome to Tony’s!”) his wife had long given up on waiting for him, sighed, and rolled over, cradled in the sheets. He waved luxuriously at the glass, trying to peer past the maze of reflections. From out there, his hopeful fingers could not reach through to bang his coffee cup with an obnoxious grunt and graze my ass as I walk by him. I flinched. Even now, restaurant empty except for the lingering coffee drinkers, I could still feel those sloppy blue eyes and white fingertips scratching at the windows and cracks under the door. They were always trying to get in.

“C’mere, brown shu-gar,” smile curved up too far. “Can’t drink ’n em’ty cup ya know.”

4 a.m.

It was her fifth hour here and her 18th cup of coffee. She’d come in dragging her stack of notebooks, pencils and charcoal, and plopped down at the counter. Her loose jeans barely clung to her hip bones, two inches above that waistline — damn — a worn Lakers t-shirt, tight to her chest, nipples sneaking through. Auburn curls splayed out and traced the nape of her neck — guilty. Behind my bronze the color rose to my cheeks.

Art student, definitely. With that carefree funk and darting eyes, cigarette smoking itself in the ashtray, small fingers handling the pencil roughly then caressing, teasing the paper. She sat amid the smoke in a world of curly cues and shadows. Her eyes were heavy on me, pinning me down, drawing me out. She looked up smiling warmer than the streaming caffeine, inviting me into her eyes of shape, form, and shadow. I swallowed slowly, even though I knew her white smile was not a request but a demand. Stare, desire, worship. I gasped, turned away, dripping errant drops on the table.

Eavesdropping (the waitress’s curse), I subtly browsed her portrait with every refill, assembling the details like a puzzle pieced together with graphite lines. It was a pixie or some other angelic fairy creature, skin shaded so darkly it shamed the black coffee she’d been drinking. The pixie splayed her limbs placidly on an altar, wings hanging limply, bare breasts only small mounds at this angle. Her face was twisted coyly as if on fire, either from fear or anticipation. I blushed as I caught myself staring a little too long at the eyes mirrored back. Pupils like the dying petals scattered loosely on the ground.

“Coffee?” I whispered. She jumped shyly at the shimmer in the quiet, hand instinctively covering the perfect V between the pixie’s thighs.

5:55 a.m.

And then she was gone. She must have slipped out the door as I clocked out in the back. She’d left a pile of change to cover her tab, but it didn’t matter. I’d bought her meal hours ago under that enchanting gaze. With a tinge of regret that I couldn’t explain, I cleared the crumpled napkins and discarded sketches, flipping through the chaotic scribbles and pencil shavings.

I moved to throw these away and stopped, stared at the fiery black altar, limp wings and disheveled petals. I felt my face grow warm at the tiny points and curves — the petal eyes, the coy face on fire, the thighs’ V were all my own, reflected back. I shivered at this charcoal mirror, skin tingling, breath short. I shuddered as if naked, tensed my hands into fists and then breathing in, grasped for calm. I stood for a moment, stilling the tremors and then folded the page and hid it in the pocket of my apron.

6 a.m.

Outside, I light a cigarette, roll my apron into a tight bundle and set off into the murky fog of dawn. Not enough tips to call a taxi today. Inside Tony’s, the fingers scratched and pounded at the glass — angry men trapped inside. Powerless. I’m not their whore anymore. I’m me out here — the strong, beautiful, capable young woman my dad always told me I’d be. I laughed. Now, who the fuck is that?

I hear a car slow behind me. My breath catches; I hug my coat around me tighter, and do not turn my head. Please go on. Go away. Please leave me alone. My apron is off. I’m not your waitress, not your friend, not your lover. Please, sir, you cannot see me here — not past that sign, not through those windows. You cannot touch me here — there are people all around, sure to hear me scream. There are cars driving all along this road. They’re sure to stop and help.

Sir, I told you. Don’t. Don’t slow your car and lower your window. I’m off the clock. I’m not yours any more. I won’t be your whore. (“How much for a side of you after my meal?“) You cannot see me. I’m not a woman, not a body at all. I have no legs, no ass, no breasts, no curves — see — look — I’m invisible, a shadow. You cannot touch me. I will slip through your fingers with my non-body. I will disappear unharmed, and you won’t be able to find me. Go away, sir, please. I am nobody. I am no body. I am no woman. I am… not.
  
I still couldn’t say why I got in that car. Maybe it’s because I could not escape into a shadow, could not lose this form, divorce this body and slip through their fingers. I am a body; I bleed. Deep in deep I am woman — it’s written all over my skin, curves and softness and moist salty petals. I am a woman. I do what I have to do. I nod. I smile. I acquiesce. And sometimes I have it my way.

Maybe I was crazy — too much smoke and coffee — and suddenly looking into the car I saw the most beautifully distorted creature God ever made. Maybe I wanted to be delirious for that face. Maybe God never made any of us. Maybe this seemed safer, easier, purer than all the others. Maybe this would feel okay. Maybe this would comfort. Maybe I could forget to breathe for just a moment.

Or maybe this was me, this was my life, this was my choice and lack of it. This was my body, my meat, my blood. And so this was my beauty, my chance, my lust. Maybe.

She rolled down the window and peering in cautiously, I hardly hesitated a moment — opened the door without a word, and sat breathless as she drove away with her white hands on the wheel, auburn curls screening her eyes.

“You left this.”

She smiled. I fell, breaking shadows into pieces, looking down in horror at all those parts of me laid bare. I wept silently, staring down in frightened disbelief, no hope of piecing this back together — not with all this shattered glass and ashes — my own urn, filled with the little blisters I never let them see. The pencil stubs and ash trays, the faded paper dolls and bloody petals, torn underwear and white face I couldn’t see.

She pulled into the driveway. I followed her inside and tossing my apron and coat to the floor, felt the strength of her hand wiping my face, pulling my eyes like tears. I wanted to whimper and laugh and explode. She smiled. And it all fell away there, poured like blood down an altar, or scattered like little pixie petals on the ground.

 

Political sportsmanship

Nearly a month has gone by since John Kerry did something great for this country: He lost the election and admitted it. Listening to his concession speech, he was so much greater, more majestic and even classier than he seemed before. If only the rest of the Democratic Party could follow his example.

John Kerry in his concession speech told the world of his conversation with President Bush on election day and expressed his wish for a bipartisan country. Will the real John Kerry please stand up! Then, not even two weeks later, the defeated democratic challenger responded to a question posed by Fox News Reporter Geraldo Rivera about why he lost:

“It was that Osama tape, it scared them [the American people],” he said.

Message: The American People are gullible twits, too scared of their own shadows to stand up to Osama bin Laden. And did I mention that I served in Vietnam?  It was the John Kerry I had seen for the past year, back in black.

For months, the democratic demagogues both in Washington and the press had lodged a sustained carpet bomb-style assault on both President Bush’s policies and even his character. MoveOn.org likened him to Hitler, and Michael Moore and the Hollywood crap machine churned out propaganda so vile it would make Lenny Riefenstahl shake her head in disgust. Teddy Kennedy and Terry McAuliffe, the tag team of trash talk, have yelled so hard and so long that President Bush is a liar that their lungs now have the capacity to sustain each of them during the next Boston Marathon. Surely, they thought, their campaign of smear and fear would be enough to pull Kerry past the finish line. After all, the war in Iraq is so bad. One thousand soldiers have died and we are still there. It’s been a year and a half and we haven’t built Iraq into the land of milk and honey! Osama bin Laden is still on the loose, he isn’t weighted down by chains in a dungeon or being flogged by angry soldiers with wet, rolled-up American flags.

And what about Bush’s pathetic domestic policies? The Kerry campaign hammered for months that Bush had turned America into some sort of wasteland and with confidence bordering on arrogance, thought that they somehow convinced all Americans to believe that the economy was the worst since the Great Depression and that President Bush has lost more jobs than Herbert Hoover. Kerry and clan thought they convinced everyone that Bush wants to have state-sanctioned gay stompings in the streets and that a Bush victory would mean a return to slavery for blacks. They thought they had convinced parents that their kids are getting dumber by the second and that Bush has bankrupted the education system. And for some reason, they believed they had convinced the primarily Christian population of this country that somehow Bush’s personal faith in God is a weakness that should be laughed at in the halls of Congress and the streets of capitols around the world.

John Kerry thought that he had convinced the youth of the country that they would be torn away from their mommies and daddies and be shipped off to Iraq with nothing but a musket and a pat on the back if the president were re-elected; and John Edwards was confident in saying that if they were in office now instead of the Republicans, Christopher Reeve would not only have lived but would be doing a foxtrot with Michael J. Fox at the Kerry victory rally.

So what went wrong? They had more money than they ever had. They had Hollywood with Susan Sarandon, Ben Affleck, and Leonardo DiCaprio planting yard signs and giving speeches. They had Michael Moore and Robert Redford making and airing every hate-Bush movie ever made. They had scores of books, tons of magazines, and newspapers. They had the music industry, MTV, and even the Boss himself, Bruce Springstein, touring with Kerry like he was a rock star to get the vote out. They had the billions of George Soros and his wife’s ketchup empire, and the support of the Canadians, the French, and the Germans. So why did it all go wrong? It went wrong because the American people can’t be bought. It went wrong because the American people cannot be tricked. It went wrong because although Democrats seem to think anybody who believes in God deserves a seat on the short bus, they continue year after year to forget that the majority of this country believes in God. They continue to forget that the American people, like Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic at the bottom of the Atlantic, are not in politics. They forget that people want the news, not what certain people think is the news, and that The New York Times somehow forgot how to be The New York Times. And they forget that Americans love the fact that Bruce
Springstein was “born in the USA,” but also love the fact that he doesn’t run the USA.  

The Democrats cry every year that the Republican campaign machine makes issues out of the same things every year: God, gays, guns, and government interference. The problem is that Democrats never seem to get hip to the fact that Republicans aren’t making these things the issues, but that they ARE the issues. They reflect the concerns and the character of the people, of the people! So until Democrats finally do get the idea that Americans care more about America than they do with the issues of self-interest that Democrats think that they should, it would behoove the left to learn how to lose more graciously.

—Christopher White

 

NBA — Nobody Blame Artest

It was brutal. Reprehensible. Unforgivable.

Yet somehow, Ron Artest, NBA sideshow and professional thug managed to take barbarism to new heights. After leaping into the stands to choke a kid in the third-row bleachers and coldcocking a Pistons fan mouthing off to him, the Pacers forward made a conciliatory appearance on the Today show.

Or did he?

Matt Lauer, who seemed to be engaged more in heavyweight shadowboxing than anything, asked Artest what should be done about his reckless and violent behavior. It’s hard to imagine how this overpaid primadonna might respond. Luckily for everyone he cleared everything up: It’s the fans’ fault!

“It was the third time I had been hit with something in the crowd,” he said. “They should hold off. They shouldn’t have been throwing stuff.”

Phew! It’s a good thing he cleared that up. Rule 1: Fans should expect to be assaulted by any athlete that has paper cups thrown at him. This isn’t as ridiculous as it may seem; after all, it was self-defense.

“The cup almost hit me in the eye,” said Artest. And how exactly did a cup almost hit him in the eye? He was lying down on the scorers’ table. Rule 2: NBA players can lie down anywhere they please. This
includes scorers’ tables, fans’ laps, and even the middle of the court.

But in moves that have even John Kerry scratching his head, Artest, despite the 24-hour replay of the videotape, says, “I’ve never hurt anybody, and I think that’s important.”

Among the other notable quotables that Artest flung around like dirty socks during the Today interview were:

“I’ve really tried to change the image of the league,” (which is true — the NBA used to be a place where world-class athletes and sportsmen like Michael Jordan, Larry Bird, and Magic Johnson met, and now it’s just another playground where tattooed hoods play streetball for big bucks).

“I respect David Stern’s decisions but I don’t think I should be out for the whole season. I really want to play this year.” And he shouldn’t be out for the rest of the season, he should be out of the league completely and in a jail cell. Only in America can you punch someone on camera and not be charged with a crime.  

“Sometimes things happen … people go to war, but we don’t want to go to war; nobody wants to die you know, but things happen and you try to make everything positive.” Maybe Artest does know John Kerry. He has an interesting penchant for changing the subject and blaming other people for his failures, as well as aggrandizing his self-victimization. Artest is comparing his predicament to those now “forced” to fight in Iraq.

But Ron Artest is trying to stay positive. He’s got a new album coming out.

“It’s all about love,” he says.

—Christopher White