agirlnamedsteve

[agirlnamedsteve]

Life Updates 11/24/2018

Ahhhh. It’s been a whirlwind since I got to Bolivia last week. It’s been approximately 12 days since we got here and we have 3 weeks left to go until I’m home. About 23 days until I touch down in D.C. (not that I’m counting or anything…) and I’m not wishing away my time here in any way. Except I kinda had a day when I spiraled a few days ago, actually it was this past thursday on Thanksgiving and oh my will this be a memorable one. I had moved into my homestay the day before and I think a whirlwind of emotions and feelings I’d been suppressing got to me right away when I became disappointed about the circumstances of my homestay. I generally love to be optimistic and look on the bright side, but I was not in any place to be making the best of my experience. Not only was my homestay in a “satellite cluster” which means it’s far away from Ismael’s house and everyone else, but it has NO WIFI and I have to share a room with a girl on my trip who I’m not especially close with and the bed is small and uncomfortable and the bathroom is really only half functioning and there is a huge language barrier and my 2 homestay sisters are fluent in spanish and yo hablo un poco, entiendo mas. It was all a HUGE pill to swallow. And I don’t want to sound ungrateful because my homestay mama is super lovely and so nice and makes us good food. There is just something really hard about accepting that in the spread of homestays mine is on the way bottom of the scale. And to make things even more stressful, my homestay sisters are gone for the weekend on a trip to the salt flats, so they were stressed leading up to our community dinner to protest settler colonialism but celebrate friendship and love and being in bolivia. And like, very randomly, my homestay mom mentioned off-hand that we might be going to the country this weekend to visit her family and I have a huge paper to finish up by later this week (my semester-long research project). ALSO needless to say I’ve just been fucking wacky since Max and I broke things off. I’ve felt pretty isolated from a form of support and love I had and pretty sad about it all. It’s really such a loss for me to know that because I was having a freakout and getting way too excited about Hannah (who’s been not responding to me recently) and about the possibility of dating other people when I really just want to be with him. And we know that we don’t work long distance so it’s just such a bummer. We are SO good when we’re together. I wish circumstances were different because this sucks. And I don’t regret being honest with him about where my head and heart are but it just feels bad knowing that I made the call that led to this outcome. So yeah, this all hit me pretty hard at our dinner on thanksgiving and I spent a long time moping to olivia and mom about how homesick I am right now, and then cried about max, and then spent like an hour trying to get data on my phone (definitely spent money and got data for like 12 hours). It started out great and I had good food and we played music, but then I fell down a rabbit hole and really couldn’t be rescued from myself. Went home that night with a friend who lives in the satellite cluster and we both got bummed about how hard it was for us to figure out the radio taxi situation and how that would be our reality for the next 3 weeks. But I went home and had a good night of sleep and woke up and went to the gym and got a good workout in and bought a membership for the month so I will be getting back into lifting shape (!!!) hopefully during my time here and prioritizing that, and went over to my friend’s house that has wifi and spent multiple hours there getting together my research and got excited about WRITING IT which I need to do so badly (jesus christ I have put off actually writing this so much it’s an issue). Oh! And in between gym and paper research stuff I hung out at home with the fam and the baby granddaughter and then went to run some errands with my host mama and her driver man/boyfriend guy and we went like 30 minutes to the outskirts of cochabamba, picked up some (read: a lot of) red polo shirts, drove through a market where she picked up fruits and I got a little bit of watermelon! Yum! And then we dropped off the polo shirts somewhere else, and then headed back home. We were gone for like an hour and a half and given that we can’t really communicate it was a silly time. Last night I fell asleep early but woke up at like 2 am with the itchy fire of mosquito bites and lots of bugs buzzing in my ear and I was hot and sweaty but didn’t want to expose more skin to the bugs for biting me so I just laid there sweaty and really uncomfy. Kind of a bummer… but went back to sleep and woke up this morning, walked the 30 minutes to meet the group before we went to an art walk around this cool downtown district of Cochamaba with a dope guide who was really fun to hang out with, got to hang out with our new fellow Jessie, and then walked around to find myself some lunch since home is too far away from the cafe I wanted to work at with WIFI and now I am here! Walked around a lot today, have about 3 hours until I need to be headed home, and then I’m going to hopefully hit up the gym, and then head out to meet friends to listen to live music and hang for the night! Things are definitely looking up, I think my weekend would have been different if my homestay sisters hadn’t left me to fend for myself, but I can’t control how others make me feel because that’s not them, it’s me. And it’s true. I was initially disappointed at my situation and very dramatically reacting to it, but knowing that my friend’s house has wifi means I can go there to do work or anything that wifi provides me, and the gym is super close, and i’ll be in class for a lot of the week and weekends will be another beast! And soon communication with the host family will be better when they’re back and we’re all in this transport situation together and it will feel good to have routine! And I can go get myself a new data plan if need be! And I will be home and 21 within the month! Which is wacky wild and crazy. And I spend my birthday in the Amazon Rainforest, so that’s dope AF. Life is wild!!!

[agirlnamedsteve]

I’m getting published! Cool!

Yesterday I got an email from the main editor of Killer and a Sweet Thang about a piece I submitted saying that they loved my writing and want to publish me in december which is some sort of weird dream for me. Not that it gives me any sort of recognition and it’s a really random website that not many people I know follow, but it’s a really big deal for me! I love online publications and would love to someday create a space like KAAST but mostly just love that I get to contribute something. And it’s a really deeply personal piece. I’ll attach it below. It’s basically just a revised version of a previous blog post. I was reading through the blog and seeing that there was such a wide array of articles, not all of them being about sex, and one of them even had to do with kavanaugh and who he is! I am assuming that the readership of this blog is anywhere from 16-25 ish probably? And I feel like the politics of my body is a way that I conceptualize my political involvement and also make sense of who I am. So I figured I would see if they wanted to publish me. It just affirms to me that this is what I want to be doing! Creative stuff! I like writing as though the world is my public journal. I am such an open book and love that about myself. Can’t wait to get back to school and see if there are any pubs I can get involved in.

“The Politics of My Body: Conceptualizing My Sexual Assault in a Post-Kavanaugh World”

I woke up relatively hungover in my hotel room and checked my phone to see more texts than I was expecting. Being halfway across the world, it’s not uncommon for people to check in on me and reach out during the hours when I’m sleeping since those are peak hours back home. Today was different though.

I was prepared for the news that a sexual assailant was joining the ranks of our oldest and whitest in government. I was prepared for the news, knowing fully well that even my foolish hopes that the outcries of survivors would make an impact on the vote couldn’t save us from this outcome. There was nothing I wasn’t prepared for, since the past two years since I started college and our country began its governance under yet another racist, sexist pig (I miss u Obama) I have felt that every news alert, every oppressive tweet, and every disappointment has just taken my body and thrown it against a building repeatedly. While it doesn’t show on the outside, my internal organs are bleeding and I have a heart that is bruised.

I received texts from friends who are with me abroad offering their support, from my older sister, former partners, and people who love me from all walks of life. I have recently made myself more vulnerable by sharing more personal details about myself on the internet and being much more politically active on my social media platforms regarding the confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh and the nuances of women and survivors in a society where politics have never regarded anyone except white males as deserving of full respect. Reading some Brittney Cooper (“Eloquent Rage”) and the words of bell hooks and Cleo Wade and other intersectional feminist writers who I admire and engage with daily had been cathartic for me. It’s put things into perspective for me, and it’s expanded the ways that I go about processing difficult information.

First there’s the knowledge that women of color have always had it this bad. That Dr. Ford was more believable because she’s an academic and a white woman. That Anita Hill never had the chance Dr. Ford was given to be widely supported and believed. I’ve learned more about white feminism, and I’ve learned about who out of the men in my life are interested in speaking out and who will remain silent. I’ve appreciated and admired every person that has spoken out on their social media platforms and every person who had reached out to me and other survivors in any way, shape, or form to acknowledge our humanity and our anger. While it is easy for me to get caught up in the parts of my identity that have been more difficult–– being raised by a single mother, having an emotionally and physically unavailable father, growing up bisexual and struggling with body image, surviving sexual assault–– there are parts of my identity (my whiteness, upper-middle socio-eonomic upbringing, liberal arts college education) which grant me privilege and power that is simply not accessible to all people, especially POC. Additionally and above all, because I have benefitted from my whiteness, I often fail to see the intersections that amplify my power and recognize that regardless of how much I try to engage with female writers and activists of color, I can and should always be working to do better. And to know that I have this privilege, and to use it for the advancement of all people. But I digress…

That week I joined the survivors who came forward with their experiences of sexual assault. It has been two years and a few months, and I just never found the right time. It also took quite a bit of learning and unlearning for me to understand the depth and weight of what had happened to me. It took me a long time to remember that it was due to others not stepping up and sharing their stories and concerns with his behaviors of the past that I was put in the vulnerable position I was to be assaulted that night. He never would have been there in the first place if others had expressed their concerns of his predation. I don’t harbor any resentment for the situation I was placed in. I do, however, feel that it is my duty, as it was the duty of Dr. Ford, to out the people who have harmed us in an effort to make the world a safer and more just place. When I shared my experience, I don’t know what I expected. Learning that the process of due diligence meant that he needed to be contacted about what I had shared caused me immediate panic. I felt so heard and believed when I reported the incident. But I felt conflicted by the news that he would face consequences for his actions, or at least learn that he has had this lasting impact on someone he’s probably forgotten about. While I knew that must be part of the process, I had discounted how much it would affect me that he would have my name spoken to him, my experience relayed to him. I’m not pressing charges, so i’ll never have to sit in a courtroom opposite him and hear his voice, which will likely tell tales of assumed consent and blurred lines. The way I see it now, I was incapacitated, I blacked out during it, I have felt unsafe for myself and others in that space ever since.

On that morning, I drafted an email and decided I was done carrying the invalidation I was placing on myself on my shoulders anymore. In sending that email I didn’t suddenly become free. I didn’t call for celebration and I didn’t even feel different on the inside. But what’s followed has been the daily reminder to myself that I have survived and maybe even grown from my experience. An experience nobody should have to go through. Dr. Ford continues to be harassed daily, while I have been able to share my story in a much more quiet, almost secret in a way.

For people who are struggling with whether or not to share their stories, and those who have been burdened by the social media streams of personal experiences of victims and the reminder that so many people we know have been affected by sexual violence, I see you. I wish you peace. I know that even from my positionality it still took me a very long time and lots of support to come to terms with my experience. I have been realizing more and more that the need for me to speak out came less from a place of personal redemption and more from the understanding that my experience, my sexual assault, was political in and of itself. If we can’t hold men in our own communities accountable for their actions how can we expect that to be reflected in politics? It’s complicated, but watching Dr. Ford come forward with bravery and conviction convinced me that I could do the same.

[agirlnamedsteve]

Some conversations I’ve been having recently

Conversation 1:

[in response to an instagram story about the timothée chalamet/harry styles interview]

Steve: I adored that interview. May or may not have been emotionally wrecked by it [hasn’t read the full thing yet, just read internet commentary on it as of now]

Maggie: I’m actually super interested in this. I was just talking to Madeline about this. What parts particularly struck you/resonated with you?

S: Hey sorry it took so long for me to respond

S: I think the part where they talk about the contrast of being a public figure which comes with a certain amount of self celebration, especially during awards season, when so many people are suffering

S: It just seemed like the sort of conversation that I was really happy to see in print that happened between two celebrities

S: Like bringing up social media and the Arab spring seemed really random, but also like something that would randomly come up if my friends and I were talking about stuff like this

S: The masculinity part of the conversation wasn’t the most nuanced thing I’ve ever heard but I appreciated it a lot

S: They both just come off as really genuine guys and I hope this sort of interview/interaction between celebrities becomes more visible. 

M: Yeah I pretty much feel the exact same.

M: I think that i should stops calling it an interview because it’s a conversation. It feels like two guys meeting for the first time at a party and discovering they have similar interests and thoughts and just having a very natural convo.

M: Even if the questions were planned it felt very real. So everyday. And like it just happened to be recorded for us to read.

M: Also super interesting to contrast Harry who has been in the spotlight for so long with Timmy who is so new to the world.

M: And how much I feel Harry could teach him.

S: Yeah that was a really beautiful beginning, like I can’t believe that was the first time they’ve talked

S: Made me smile, I’m a sucker 

S: Just seemed like two normal guys but they’ve both ~made it~

S: Timmy talking about his family was sweet as heck 

S: I didn’t feel like they necessarily did justice to talking about the social responsibility of celebrities but I like that it was mentioned

M: And I think the part about gratefulness really hit me. The idea that they are both trying to remind themselves that they aren’t owed any that they have but that they are really lucky.

M: Yeah it felt like a throw away

M: Some of it I don’t think they really got deep enough into. The stuff that felt forced because they felt like they had to bring it up. Instead of it coming up casually.

M: I think the reason people are really into this article is because it makes these mythical people so present and quotidien and relatable

M: Like they could just be our friends 

M: And it feels quite intimate 

S: It does feel so intimate. And I have a good friend on this program who went to la guardia with Timmy and knows him in such an intimate way, so I feel like that reminds me of his humanity as well

S: It seems very genuine, but I also can’t help but wonder how much of this is also about image and knowing it’s the right thing for them to say

M: Yeah. And I’ve heard from people at la guardian that he is actually a pretty great guy

M: Yeah. What I thought was particularly interesting was the difference in composite between the two. 

M: Like Harry seems so put together and Timmy feels like a mess. Like not in a bad way just like more nervous and rambley and how the years of coaching and PR people changes how you do these sort of things. But also Timmy has been praised for this so I wonder also if he’s playing it up at this point. Like people point to it as proof that he’s genuine.

S: Okay I noticed that too, and it might be age, and it might be him playing up the rambling young charismatic genuine guy-thing he has going on. Regardless I kind of loved the chatter. 

S: There were questions I felt Timmy didn’t actually answer though, like in the fluster of trying to keep the conversation it seemed like there was something missed. But also phone interviews are so interesting. Like your words that you say, which you can’t easily manipulate without training and practice, can come out sounding super different than you wanted based on context and reactions to the unknowns of verbal conversation. 

S: I guess phone interviews aren’t any different than in-person interviews minus body language, which I always find interesting to read about in journalists’ second-hand perspectives when they do write-ups of the interviews. 

S: But I have been thinking a lot about how social media allows us to curate our words in a way that changes how we communicate in general. 

M: And how much practice you get. 

M: Yeah it’s weird because Harry is only like two years older but has been famous for so long. And I at least take comfort in the idea that Timmy at least was first rambley genuinely. But I always get freaked out by whether I’m being manipulated or not. 

M: But also Harry’s specificness makes him sound so mature like wow.

S: Media manipulation! I was just talking about how I feel like I’m being constantly mislead by mainstream media and my own ‘free thought’ isn’t free thought at all. 

S: And I try my best to find out things for myself, but the internet is wide and vast and can very easily turn into an echo chamber. 

M: I’m terrified because there are people who’s job it is to make us think a very specific thing.

M: And they are so good at it. 

S: How do we make sure we don’t all just turn into sheep?!

Conversation 1: 

[lovey dovey but also reflective] 

Steve: I was doing some reflecting the other day and wrote stuff down in the most of my academic notes

S: Allow me to transcribe because it’s literally illegible

Max: Please do. 

S: Max really handles disappointment well. Like he fails with grace and that’s not an easy skill to learn, it’s intuitive. He know what’s he wants to do and others see that in him. I always look forward to seeing how he handle disappointment and fears of the unknown with grace and embrace those  harder times knowing that he offers so much support for himself and others in those spaces of discomfort. Also pancakes can always cure the worst moments.

M: That’s a really beautiful thing for you to notice and share with me. I’ve never thought anything close to that about myself before. 

M: Can I share a reflection I’ve had recently?

S: please do. 

M: it’ll take a sec

S: Go for it 

M: So it’s definitely a document sized reflection so I made a doc for it in the drive

M: But here it is anyway for convenience

M: Alison,

You know that I love love. I've read books and listened to philosophical speeches and podcasts and even taken a dang class on the matter. I think and talk about love all the time. When I was younger I understood love to be complex but not necessarily dynamic. I knew it was something that required some form of "work" to sustain but then I framed it more as maintenance, upkeep that both parties participated in to maintain the love that they shared. I could conceive of the oh so many factors that make up a relationship, communication, time, sex, affection, compassion etc. At the time all of these things were external, each of them pieces of the love bus to be tinkered with it so it would run smoothly for many miles. What I couldn't have conceptualized at the time was what it means to grow with someone. Not to somehow "induce" growth on the other person or encourage them to make positive changes in their life but to look inside myself and search for what I really want and push myself to figure out how to get there and then actually put in the work to get closer and closer, day by day. 

This has been a really hard few months for me. I've been met with many disappointments in my family, my work, and personal life, and spent many hours lamenting about each of them. All the while I've thought some version of "if Alison were here things would be better. We could talk and laugh and fuck and dine and do all the things that made me oh so happy when we were in the same place." 

I've thought a lot about where that thought comes from and must first say it's absolutely valid and for the most part true. Doing anything with you is immeasurably better that doing the same thing without you, just reading your words on the page or a screen makes me want to shout with glee and affection no matter where I am (usually I just smile like a young me in an arcade for a while for fear of alarming those around me [other times I just shout because i dont give a FUCK])

I think part of the reason our love and are relationship felt so unique and special from the beginning was that each of us were so satisfied as individuals. We have deep connections with amazing friends and ask questions about complex issues and take great pleasure in struggling to find answers. We are passionate about so many things and recognize the value of our time and the way we spend it. And when we came together we just kind of celebrated all of that in this awesome way where we would celebrate both each other as people and all those amazing things that make us who we are. Its intoxicating, and incredibly addicting. In these months where things have been hard and I’m not spending my time in ways that situait my heart and my soul I’ve looked to you to fill that space, when I need to take responsibility and fill that space myself no matter how near or far you are.

I think I got a bit lost in immeasurable grandeur that is our love, and it has taken me a lot of thinking and talking and writing to understand and really believe that I am so much more than my love for you. Though it is overwhelming and feels allencomapsing it is just a part of who I am. As hard as this distance has been I am so thankful for it, as it has given me the space to think and feel through things I could only do on my own. It's so wild to think about how our story and how the year between matching on tinder and getting coffee in Olin was so necessary for both of us. 

Growth is hard and it's painful, both physically and emotionally, and I want to grow with you, separately and together, from near and far, for as long as we want to. I hope it's for a really really long time.

I have a much greater understanding for what you said to me over the summer, that you didn't want to be THE thing that either made me happy. That's a lot of pressure, and I can imagine doesn't feel very good. 

of course, recognizing all these things is just the start. As hard as it was to get her now a different kind of work starts that may prove to be even harder. I need to take action in my own life and make the changes that feel right, that draw from the deep well of passion I know I have inside me and drive me forward. And If I'm lucky I'll get to tell you all about it

S: Oh wow I loved reading that

S: That is so big

S: Thank you for sharing 

S: You’re literally so self aware and want to do the work on yourself that people need to do (esp men in general if I’m being honest) and that just took a lot of pressure off of me to have to ask you to do that work, so wow I’m honestly honored

S: Never stop growing, I never want to stop growing with you

S: And I agree wholeheartedly especially with the middle section about how much that year was important for us, and how we came into this relationship both knowing ourselves so well and being so established and happy so we just relished in being able to enjoy each other

S: that’s so special. 

S: I think we’ll definitely get back to that place. I don’t feel like we’ve left it, but it’s different ya know?

M: It feels so good to share that with you

M: Of course of course, and the “place” were in together will always be changing and always be beautiful

M: I just sort of started thinking and all of a sudden some of those things just became really clear

S: wow yeah I love that 

M: me too. 

[agirlnamedsteve]

Been a minute

This brain is all full of thoughts again, I think while I have been making a very concerted effort to journal more often, especially given the free time I had this past week during my mid-semester break, I was spending my reflection time on detailing the wild and crazy adventures I was having rather than the bigger thoughts I was grappling with in my head. They’re wide-ranging, and I have them somewhere in a note in my phone, which has always been a big place for my word vomit and thought processing.

I’ve been thinking a lot about home and school and how much I miss my people back home.I register for classes, in not fun and exciting news, and my group chat with my homies has been blowing up. On the other hand, though, I have really felt closeness with this group i’m traveling with in a way that I wasn’t consciously noticing prior to the break. Maybe it’s that I was just over the moon about the incredible group of 7 ladies I was having my gals vacation with, but getting to know them deeper and have real substantial conversation and feel really like I was involved in a group was really important to me. Not that I need to be constantly affirmed and reminded that I am included and wanted in a larger group setting, but I think it really gave me the confidence to be my true self, like the person I have been lucky enough to be at school where I feel a strong amount of security and comfort in my relationship web. And I got a bunch of dope pics on that nice camera I’ve been hauling around. #worthit. That’s been special. Coming back into this larger group and continuing our travels all together after break was initially rough, I didn’t want to go out and explore Marrakech, I wanted to be in bed and comfortable getting my academics done and exploring the thoughts in my head. So that’s what I did, and that’s what I hope will continue this week, but with more comfort in knowing my place in the group which somewhat alleviates a lot of the personal social anxieties I hold. This next week until we leave for Bolivia I have so much due. I have to present on the research I have barely thought through for my big anthropology paper that is due next month, I have to write to smaller papers for two different classes, and I also just turned in responses for the readings I had for my political economy and environmental history course about degrowth and its alternatives. Wild crazy ride going on here. I really have felt so far on this program that i’ve been killing academically, but i’m in a weird moment of self doubt right now where I want so badly to want to get these things done, but I’m so out of habit after the summer and this relatively chill semester thus far and having multiple big assignments looming over my head in the next week (plus the stress of unreliable wifi sources and no data on my phone) has made my body a little more fatigued with stress. Speaking of body fatigue, I haven’t worked out really in any capacity (minus climbing sand dunes and a little nike training app session for 20 minutes in the hotel the other day) since that one day where I ran in Ben Smim and felt really good about myself. Luckily this hotel seems to have a gym! But I am excited because a girl I rowed with in high school reached out to tell me she listens to my fat ergos playlist when she works out (lol score!) and that prompted me to reach out to her to see if we can be training buddies when I return in December! Because that 5-week period is going to be very important for me! Gotta build up that cardio and strength base again and not totally ruin my body upon returning to Wellesley! Gotta be not afraid of the ergo again! I am so strong and capable when I release myself from the hold of all of the barriers in my head and body telling me I’m not doing it right so I just need to go in with a growth mindset and restored competitive streak and I’m going to kill it. No need to stress when I should be enjoying myself as I travel the world. I want to develop some of the ideas I have been thinking about before I write them down here so i’m going to keep this short and sweet and make sure I return back with some formed theses soon.

[agirlnamedsteve]

I’m going to get political! And it’s going to be leftist!

I am taking a political economy and environmental history class this semester with a sociology professor from UCSB who specializes in the global climate crisis as well as the study of regimes (so I’m on cloud 9) and this class has rocked my world! The readings for our class for next week were on transition towns and the ideas of localism and reestablishment of communities around nurturing and caring support networks. (https://transitionnetwork.org) We read seven pieces that my professor picked out that highlighted the  fundamental goals as well as the strengths, weaknesses, and critiques of the movement. A piece called “The Transition Movement: Questions of Diversity, Power, and Affluence”, (Alexander and Allhoun, 2014) addressed a lot of thoughts and feelings I’ve ben grappling with in my usual existential crisis about where we can go from where we are to save the world and its people from ultimate destruction. I thought this paper was very valid to discuss the middle-class ideal of individualism as a shortcoming of the movement as a whole, recognizing that for such a movement to succeed it needs to address both the structural and individual barriers for all people to participate, as it will not simply be the changes of individuals in our current capitalistic and globalizes systems that will make these changes. Localism and networks of support are all well and good when those involves have the resources to opt in to such processes, but in communities where POC and other marginalized groups have more constraints on their freedom and social mobility those problems need to be addressed and eliminated before such harmony can be achieved. Also, on the transition network’s website I loled at the crowds of older white folks pictured on their main pages. Like, that’s my whole point. And its not just POC in local communities who have significant barriers to involvement in the movement, its also whole communities that are barred from entering such a movement by mere situation.

Ted Trainer addresses this in the Hopkins and Trainer critiques and responses that we read as well: “My central point was that the global situation cannot be fixed other than via the development of local economies that are highly self-sufficient and self-governing. This is the only way that the rich world per capita resource consumption rates can be cut by the required huge amount, probably to 10% of present rates, while enabling a high quality of life for all,” (Hopkins and Trainer, 2018). I think in the conversation about creativity, the limitations to how effective creativity as a tool for a better future can actually be without implementation in policy and corporate business need to be more outrightly discussed as the majority of harmful environmental practices emery from those spheres, rather than the individuals with collective creativity. It can’t be the responsibility of POC and minority communities to take on the tasks of transitioning themselves unless the movement is “inclusively local” and recognizes the barriers that these communities face with movements like transition which assume that those participating have the ability to think of the environment first instead of their own basic needs. On this trip thus far we went to visit Phat Beets in Oakland, which helped to inform our understandings of building resilient movements which are inclusive of and supported by the most marginalized in the community. In the spirit of local living economies, Phat Beets showed how community gardens are able to create jobs, profits, and support for the community they are living in, and food security is so important for community stability.

According to “transition towns” co-founder, Rob Hopkins, the Transition movement is based on four key assumptions and the second assumption is the one that really caught my eye: “That our settlements and communities presently lack the resilience to enable them to weather the sever energy [and economic] shocks that will accompany peak oil [and climate change],”(Hopkins, 2008: 134). I think I agree that our communities and settlements lack the resilience that is needed to survive the impending doom of our future world in a time where the effects of climate change severely affect all lives, especially those of the global north’s middle-class. I actually had to read over this assumption a few times and unpack it more to understand what I think it’s trying to say. Theres a layer of lack of resilience in our current systems, called our “settlements and communities”, so I’m guessing this means the places we live, sleep, work, etc. and this lack of resilience will not allow these settlements and communities to “weather” both the energy shocks that will accompany peak oil and the economic shocks that will accompany climate change. I thought the use of “shocks” was interesting, because there is an assumption that people will be surprised or stunned by the outcomes of our destructive environmental choices, and that these systems won’t be altered by the time we reach a tipping point. “Peak oil” climate change is the future this assumption is built on, which means that in this scenario our world has reached the maximum capacity of oil it can produce based on the amount of resources we are able to extract from the earth. Once these resources are used up, we would have no more, but the world would already be in a more of destruction from the effects of this peak oil. If we lack the resilience to come back from this, what kind of imagination is needed to stop us from reaching that point in the first place? I hate that in our current world systems there is a possibility where we could reach “peak oil”. I know that given our knowledge of the world reserves we would know when we went over that tipping point, but I wonder if we could reach a point where larger structural powers would recognize “peak oil” as a concept and decide to stop before we reach that point. Is the concept of a tipping point unrealistic in politics? Do we just like to create disasters and then use our money to continue cleaning them up? Is that disaster capitalism?

One of my friends wrote in her response to transition towns about whether or not it is fair to critique movements like transition towns in their efforts to create more progressive and independent societies. I had similar thoughts in reading about transition towns as well, thinking about whether such critiques would harm these movements more than do them any good, given how small they are. I think that it is always productive to criticize movements in an effort to keep the message living and make sure that if there are holes in inclusivity there can be patches as well. In the case of transition towns, assessing inclusivity would be a really great critique that is not meant to be the end-all-be-all of the progression of the movement, but to call in the foundations of social inequality and ask that the movement recognize structural issues in its pursuit. On the flip side, I see how critiques, especially of smaller movements with bottom-up approaches and not yet widespread ideals, can be used to try and halt movements in their tracks. I really liked the way that Hopkins and Trainer went back and forth in their critiques and responses of each others' ideas about transition towns in a way that pointed to their mutual goal of success, but also how everyone has different ideas of how this success will be attained and how it should look. I also think for as much as these movements deserve critiquing, the fossil fuel industry and big pharma and big ag deserve to be ROASTED persistently until they get absolutely annihilated and it frustrated me how a critique can slow a movement but the establishments of these big industries can't be touched by anyone critiquing them with lovely eloquently-written critiques. So yeah, I get frustration with critiques in general, but I think that they are necessary to keep people honest in their work, to keep the goal clear and the work on target.

[agirlnamedsteve]

Fueling my feminism

There’s been a lot going on right now that’s fueling my feminism. From reading and listening to the radical pedagogy bell hooks and black feminist experience of Brittney Cooper (god bless “Eloquent Rage”) I have been feeling blessed and so schooled by what I do not always see in myself and in the world that writers of color are so gracious to share.

There’s also been a lot of very beautifully worded writing filling my social media in response to the clear assault on women in politics and media following the Kavanaugh confirmation and leading up to the November midterms. I snap to myself every time I read another confirmation of what I already know but have not written in so many words. I feel sadness and I feel overwhelming senses of hurt all around me and I think of how little I am doing to be helping the world. I have difficult time seeing myself as an influential feminist thinker, as I am a white person and therefore find myself inherently less credible to be talking about issues of intersectional feminism, as the experiences I have lived have been shaped by my whiteness. But when I look for ways I can contribute, I think the way I practice love and compassion in the world is the same way I practice my feminism. Through softness and understanding.

A poem I love by Jeff Brown goes like this: “Sensitivity is a sign of life. Better hurt than hardened. I bow to those who keep their hearts open when it is most difficult, those who refuse to keep their armor on any longer than they have to, those who recognize the courage at the heart of vulnerability. After all the malevolent warriors end each other, the open-hearted will inherit the earth.” This poem has made me feel seen and understood in the past few weeks and really brings me back to where my work lies, in using my positionality to bring a little more softness and light into the world in hopes that this will be seen, reciprocated, and slowly lighten a lot of the darkness we see in the world. And oh wow is there a lot of darkness in a lot of places, and oh wow without a law degree and a political career I don’t see myself being able to physically dismantle the structures that cause so much of this darkness, but I hope that I can use my feminism to fuel something.

Listening to “Eloquent Rage” by Brittney Cooper made me feel a lot of things. First off, I really enjoyed reading it as a white person who knows, as Brittney would say, that I have to collect my people. I have to see all the ways that white feminism doesn’t serve anyone except white people (and also isinherently sexist as well!) and I recognize the role that white people play in the destruction of black lives. We are the whole role. And we benefit from this destruction and systemic oppression and racism. It’s not even tough for me to take that in anymore. Not that I’m sensitized to the harm and oppression that occurs every day and touches the lives of so many who I do not know, but I recognize my role as someone who benefits from systemic oppression, and I am learning every day the way that society is structured, and all of the little ways that I don’t even realize I contribute.

I follow Sarah kp’s instagram and facebook cults (Do You Consider Yourself a Feminist) and I feel schooled every day by not only her badass wisdom but also the collective work and engagement of the community in those spheres. These are people that are doing even little bits of work every day to see the ways that society is fucked and call it out on its bullshit. I feel like to a lesser extent that is what I try to do. I try to see the ways that society is fucked and I try to call it on its bullshit. I’m really trying. I feel young and helpless in a lot of ways, but I also feel called upon in a lot of ways. I feel indebted to the people who have built their lives and careers around creating spaces for critical and intersectional feminist conversation and dismantling of patriarchal and colonial systems. It has definitely made me more aware and more able to recognize those patterns when I see them in my own life.

I have also been interested in the engagement I have with feminism in my daily life. Beyond what happens on the internet, there have really only been a few people in the group I’m traveling with who I’m able to have these conversations with without feeling a sense of inherent judgement or assumption. It is in these moments that I have been able to share with people about the wisdom of bell hooks and the way she makes me want to engage in better ways with the classroom and create more space for learning in my daily life I have felt more fulfilled. I’ve been talking to my mom about bell hooks because she’s an #engaged #older #reader and has way more time on her hands to read than I do and it’s been fun to see the ways she perceived her life change as she becomes similarly blessed by the academic work of women of color and opens her eyes and ears to the void that can be realized when you notice that your entire education has been colonized. I have a friend on this trip who I shared the @douconsideryourselfafeminist instagram with, and this friend has definitely radicalized her understanding of feminism in a way that I love and support for her, but unfortunately in the middle of what was a very difficult time for me she wasn’t super respectful or aware in the ways she discussed sexual assault around me and made me feel as though her understandings of feminism were not super nuanced and that she maybe lacked a maturity to have these conversations in a way that would be safe for all participants. It was a bummer to feel like I might have someone to share my internet love of feminism with in real life and then have that be crushed by a creation of unsafe space for discourse. There is another friend on this program who I have loved talking about eco-queerness with and sees femininity as divine and powerful and connected to nature. For obvious reasons, I love talking with her about any and all things feminist, especially when it comes to hookup culture and how much I love my traditionally women’s college environment for the safety and security it offers me. There have been a few other times when I felt like talking about my experiences with feminism have been well-recieved, but I miss being on a campus where discussions of a feminist nature are the norm rather than the exception and I’m not the only one bringing these things up. I have loved still seeing posts from my school friends that engage that part of me, but it only makes me miss it more!

I was able to do so much work on myself last winter break when I had all the time in the world to read books (hello Roxane Gay and Ta-Nehisi Coates) and articles and get fully caught up in the #MeToo movement and create some opinions of my own before the next semester took off again. And I’ve felt lucky that for the most part I have been able to spend time on this trip listening to my audiobooks and podcasts and generally enhancing my understanding of the world with critical feminist pedagogy that I’m not getting in my classes. I think it’s impossible to separate feminism from any of the issues we are studying and that’s what’s fueling me right now. Without bringing an intersectional feminist lens to issues of justice there is so much to be missed or misunderstood.  That’s where I’m trying to come in. I’m ready to keep being schooled.

[agirlnamedsteve]

Am I qualified?

Can real world jobs be rewarding? Can I actually function in one? Can I be made useful? Is the option of a more creative life full of less concrete and rigid structures one that is for me? It’s been wild watching my friends who graduated join the workforce (or not) and think about my future employment or lack thereof. Ideally after college I can take some time to either backpack and travel or work in outdoor ed before I actually have to figure my life out. I can’t wait to see if there are any creative ventures I can get my hands on because this girl wants to do cool things! I am in such progress right now of building my sense of character and while I know what I am passionate about, I always have difficulty actually sticking my foot down and making concrete moves because I’m in a constant phase of learning and the more I learn the more I realize the world has to teach me. And I’m open to being taught. I’m afraid of winding up with my foot in my mouth, but I know I come with good intentions and an acceptance of the inherent biases I am working to change in myself. I have strong opinions in circles where I am a loud and listened to speaker, but I know the circles that I want to work have much louder and much more important mouthpieces. How can I be someone who works as an effective ally and uplifts others without making it about myself? And in what line of work do I want to do this? Is there a job title for this and how do I occupy it? Right now being in fake school and at real school where I’m still so separate from the real world I feel so unhelpful and incapable of making waves, but I know people younger than me are out there being go-getters, so what’s my excuse?

I try to approach the topic of the future with high hopes and positive energy because I know that regardless of my qualifications I care so deeply and work so hard and am a great team player. Being part of a camp staff and a leader in that sphere taught me flexibility and acceptance of feedback if nothing else (and there’s so much else). But that’s just the thing: the real world isn’t camp. Camp can translate onto a resume when the reader of that resume has been a camp person, but to many people I feel like I excuse my summers spent at camp instead of a prestigious internship as a cry out for my lost youth or one last hurrah and then a goodbye to the real me that I will miss very much in the real world. It’s truly my only legitimate job I’ve ever held– and one I think I’m pretty good at– so it’s a bummer that the real world isn’t more like camp.

I think of jobs that would be SO cool to have, and for me many of them are creative. I would adore working for a publication being an editor, or more realistically the assistant to the assistant to the editor getting coffee every day, or helping out at a cool NGO or non-profit somewhere doing work that complements my academics or doing event planning or capitol campaign fundraising. I think all of these are possible and so many other things would be as well, I just have difficulty thinking about applications and rejections. I could definitely try to find something in Maine that’s more agriculture related, like Wolf’s Neck, or get something at the courthouse through my uncle who’s a retired judge. I think it would be good for me to be in Maine! But I also would love to try out something new, so who knows.

Sitting down to start my resume last week I found myself reaching deep into my google drive for some previous resume drafting I’d put together. My high school resume that got me into college was SO much more impressive than the one I have now, which includes volunteering last winter and working at camp and as a lifeguard at school. Like, yes that’s better than nothing, but also where is my startup? Where is the proof that I do anything beyond school and crew? (Do I do anything beyond school and crew?) I feel like this study abroad program is going to set me up for many more opportunities that I had before, like there are a few dope orgs in San Francisco that I could hit up for the summer, but I know there are people doing incredible work everywhere and I wish I knew what would be right for me! I thought by getting involved in the org I worked with in high school doing an “internship” (more front-desk volunteer work than anything) I would be gaining experience that could make me more hireable. I know it’s insane for me, a college junior, to be concerned about hireability, but I’m constantly in circles where i’m surrounded by ambitious people with lengthy resumes who make me feel like an absolute rookie.

I really look forward to doing some research for the upcoming summer (is it too soon?) and seeing what could come of me. I could very well end up back at camp, but I don’t see that being incredible for my well-being. I think i’m in for a break. I think I’m in for a dose of some life in a random city. I think I’m in for a dose of personal autonomy and finally learning how to deal with personal finances and responsibility. I’m ready to see how much it sucks to have a 9-5 job and be forced to wear real pants. I don’t know if I’m ready to be separated from my proximity to the White Mountains and access to daily trail runs. Being an adult is a crazy concept for me. I seek to find a workplace scenario with respect between all levels of workers and equitable pay (while I doubt I’d be paid) and a generally good workplace vibe where people are working on good projects and have a space for me to fill where my energy can be put to good work!

[agirlnamedsteve]

Dedicated to the one I luv <3

It’s been about 10 months since I started seeing a human that I love very much. We met on Tinder because that’s the way of our generation, but we connected because I know what I want, and I knew almost a year after our initial match that he was the one I wanted. So now here we are 10 months later and on a “break”. After 5 seamless months of dating this human that treated me like a fricken queen and was the softest and most hardworking and ambitious partner I’ve ever had we had to face the reality that we’d be spending our lives physically apart from each other for the foreseeable future. Womp womp.

We tried long distance this summer while I was in Maine and he was in L.A. and prior to our LDR we established some things to make it as healthy and connective as possible. We decided to be open for the sake of not feeling confined to the bounds of monogamy, and I didn’t really have a desire to hook up with other people (but definitely enjoyed the freedom to do so if I wanted to), but he was recently coming into his sexuality and interested in having some experiences with men and really settling into life in a new place so it made the most sense. We established that we’d practice radical honesty about whatever escapades we were involved in and keep each other up to date if our statuses changed. We also established what we called a “captain’s log” where we would write little journal entries and stories for each other, since story sharing is a huge part of the way we connect as people. We also set an expectation for a planned weekly phone call whenever it would work, since my schedule changed on a weekly basis and my availability was pretty ambiguous. Unfortunately about a month into the summer I started to feel increasingly overwhelmed by these confined ideas of how we should be connecting as the momentum of my life picked up and I tried to settle into my summer. First off, he was expressing that he was interested in keeping our relationship sexual while we were apart, but I was not in a place where that was possible, given the constraints of communal living and my lack of desire to take time away from being with my people in Maine to take nudes or have phone sex or whatever it was that he was desiring. Instead of approaching this head-on, my communication began to falter and I was not reflecting how I was feeling honestly (a theme that continued as my stress increased throughout the summer as well), resulting in me beginning to feel like we were on totally different pages. My expectations of the amount of time and effort I would have to spend on him was totally different than the reality, and I genuinely lost the ability to think outside of myself about what he might be experiencing due to my distance and emotional unavailability. And this disconnect became increasingly more combative and cumulated in a relatively difficult and very tense phone conversation after 2 weeks of non-communication. It was really unfortunate to find that while I was living my life in a way that worked for me, I was clearly hurting the person I loved very much and was even having doubts about my love for him. Distance sucks in this way. I also knew that the last thing I wanted was to end this relationship while we were still apart, as I knew this would be so damaging to the future I know we both wanted to explore with each other. It was a really tough place to be in, and I also hated how much time and energy was being taken away from doing my job to think about such personal matters.

When we reunited in August after 2 months of our LDR, we has a beautiful first day together followed by a tough morning the next day where he suggested we go on a break for the sake of our own sanity and out of love and respect for each other. It was really hard to actually hear those words. Especially given that we were planning to spend the next few days together hanging around with each other in our hometowns and with each others’ friends and families, knowing it was the end of our relationship as we knew it. I think we’re adaptable and resilient as fuck as a partnership, but I also knew that at that moment, going on a break was going to be the first time I’d exit a relationship still in love with that person.

Flash forward 2 months and here we are in October still very much in communication and still very much expressing our love for each other, but calling it a “break”, and honestly it feels so good. We get to talk when we have something exciting to say or when we miss each other, but there are no expectations placed on us. There are no conventions we have to follow to make sure we aren’t letting the other person down by just living our lives exactly as they are in the moment. I think this is beautiful. We’ve both been super honest about how being on break is making us feel, and from how I’ve understood it, it’s been such a good choice for us. Sometimes I definitely feel lonely out here, but I know I still have him at home caring for me and thinking about me. I definitely don’t wish I was a lovesick puppy taking time away from my enjoyment of everyday life to cater to the needs of someone who is thousands of miles away, but I’ve found myself dreaming about him more and wishing I could share this experience with him. I want to travel the world with him. Every time I hang out with my adorable 3 year old homestay brother I think of how cute our kids would be someday and how crazy it is that we haven’t even been together for a year but we have such a vivid imagination for the future we could have together. We’re seeing noname together in Minneapolis in January when i’m back and I seriously couldn’t imagine a better person to be with or show to see that would define the relationship we have together. I don’t know what will happen with this long distance thing. Since we’re on break, there’s no guarantee that we won’t meet other people and explore other possibilities, and seeing that he’s building career opportunities on the west coast and i’m in Boston until I graduate I have a hard time imagining us being in a monogamous long distance relationship, but we both have an underlying understanding that there is no rule book for relationships, no code we need to be following, and whatever we make our path will work out the way it is supposed to. And that comforts me even when I regret spending the last few months of our time in a relationship together taking him for granted. I definitely don’t now. He makes my day every time we talk and I love thinking back on all the ways that we make each other feel loved and supported and just smiling because I’ve never been able to express my love language with someone so wholeheartedly. Wow this is sappy but I am a soft person and I have soft emotions! I’m feeling things! And I miss him!!

[agirlnamedsteve]

Filling into myself

There’s a fear I’ve had since I started traveling in August, one that I think I’ve always had but rarely been vulnerable enough to acknowledge head-on. A fear that I’m not good enough, that I’m not doing enough, but mostly that I’m letting myself down by not taking care of myself. And this tends to manifest itself in negative self talk and hatred of my body. I’m very good at exuding confidence and convincing myself that I truly love myself. My body is a fricken temple. As an athlete I have learned to measure my body in terms of physical capability (and it is so so capable of strength) so over time I have worked to get rid of whatever societal standards told me to hate my body fat. I have so many muscles and I have done way more physically since I ever could have imagined since I began rowing. Thank you body.

I go through definite waves of body positivity. One day I’m on top of the world, loving myself and wondering how I could ever doubt myself. I am beautiful and I am loved and what’s on the inside is what counts. I preach this all the time, to my friends and family and my instagram community. It’s so easy to say in these positive states of mind. But then there are other days. Ones where I can’t even look at myself and I hate my stomach rolls and I feel large beyond measure and critique my every choice of food and super and movement. These days leave me feeling gross and hypocritical. I’ve been having many more of these days since I began traveling.

It’s such a shame that amidst all of the joy and luck I feel getting to travel with my friends and learn about the world and think critically about large scale human issues and small scale solutions I have these lingering doubts about my very being. The very body I am existing in. My go-to solution for when my head gets into these negative spaces is to remind myself that I have always been loved and that my physical appearance has never been a factor of this. I have always managed to make the most incredible friends and have wonderful and complicated conversations, and this has never depended on my physical appearance. This reminder always soothes me, and it continues to soothe me now, especially as I meet new people in my travels–– my program group, my homestay families, as well as others I meet through these people–– and continue to expose myself to new experiences which inevitably come with an internal fear of judgement.

It’s pretty common to fall into the “Eat, Pray, Love” complex of indulging in other cultures by eating your heart out only to find that you’ve filled out and barely fit into your clothes. It’s been especially weird for me, given that the cultures we’ve been exposed to have very carb-heavy diets and I’m relatively out of control of the food I am consuming, given that my host families like to fill me up with their home-cooked meals. In Vietnam I was being stuffed to the brim at every breakfast and dinner and eating banh mi and pho for lunch with a feq coconut coffees and boba teas in between. In Morocco now I’ve learned that between tea-times full of sugary mint tea and bread, we eat bread-heavy meals with various little salads and a big plate of something heavy like meats or lentils or soup. It’s delicious, don’t get me wrong. And wow I love food so much and feel so lucky to be in these cultures that highly encourage the sharing of love through large and relaxed meals. At school I get to eat whatever I want! I’m working out for four hours a day and need food for fuel! But here, I feel this pang of guilt every time I eat a huge meal and laze around and focus on either academics or exploration of a new place instead of getting up early to work out or taking the time in my afternoon to go on a run or go to the gym. I’ve definitely tried to keep up with doing lifts, but it’s nothing like my life at home or at school where I have control over my portions and my movement.

I know I deserve a time to just relax and eat and travel and do all of the things i’m supposed to do during my study abroad semester. I really do hate to feel ashamed that my body is changing with this massive intake of calories and relatively little exercise that comes with limited free time and a desire to just enjoy life and take it easy. I know that no matter what happens with my body while i’m here, I weigh waaaay more than a number on a scale could ever measure. That’s the mindset I’ve really been trying to honor and buy into recently. It’s not fair to my wellbeing that in the midst of a lot of things I’ve been wrestling with in my head, body negativity is winning out and I’m feel uncomfortable in my skin. Above all I wish I could have a little more bodily autonomy, but I know that’s just a result of living in homestays. We’re only here in Rabat for another week and then I get to move on to more hotels and a little more freedom, so hopefully the amount of energy that my brain is spending thinking about this will decrease. I do go through waves where I feel free in my mind and find the clarity to embrace myself, and I’ve definitely been feeling more comfortable with how I look now that my hair has grown out to a length I’m comfortable with (that was a big issue for me a month an an inch ago).

This is one of the first times since I left for this program that I actually have taken the time to acknowledge the contradicting feelings I have about my body image versus the outward confidence I show to others. Sometimes it sucks to feel like I have so many expectations of myself and then I let myself down by not being 100% my best self all of the time. I feel like a fraud when I go through tough moments of mental health and lose my silliness or my overall desire to support others and be there for people regardless of my personal wellbeing. I feel like I am betraying myself when I go through tough moments of body positivity or like I’m an imposter when I am not focusing all of my energy in keeping up with current events or contributing to anything at all. I place so many expectations on myself and I’m not sure that’s something I’ve come to terms with a lot, but hopefully throughout the next few months I’ll be okay with filling in my clothes a bit more and taking it easy and focusing my energy more on regenerating my wellbeing. My friend Caroline caught me being negative the other day and said to me “You need to pretend you were just born, the world is beautiful”. That was just the reminder I needed to shed my inner conflicts of body image and self worth and take in the fact that I’m in Morocco right now and I need to keep myself open to all of the beauty that is around me and that I am capable of generating.

[agirlnamedsteve]

Making Moves!

What a whirlwind i’m in. I’m doing another 15+ hours of international travel and landing on new continents and being grumpy and jetlagged, but I’m also leaving a place I have been very fond of for a month. It’s been a true whirlwind of emotions and growth and learning and all of the good things you expect when you study abroad. and there’s been lots of fuzzy support and nights out drinking and dancing and days spent dropping way too much VND on coconut coffee and “study beers”. It’s been a month of eating meats and wheat! Two of my major “no” foods for a loooong while. But my stomach has been a champ! And besides a few days of cold symptoms and anxiety in Hanoi I have been otherwise SO blessed with good health and wealth and all that important care. I independently travelled with friends, spent lots of time on the beach, and took time for myself when I needed it. I felt lonely at times and I got overwhelmed about the future a lot. But I also got excited about the future a lot. I was impacted by site visits where local people shared their experiences, some of which were very difficult to hear and process, but all of which affirmed that I am fighting for the right causes and learning a whole lot right now. I can’t imagine what these next two months have in store for me. Before I know it November will be here, and then December, and then we will have touched down on the grounds of 4 new continents for me and explored 2 of them with great depth.

Right now I am filling my free time with loud music and cafes and Ugly Delicious and focusing on research in an effort to distract myself and make it through what’s an otherwise really difficult time in my brain right now. I got to talk to 3 very important humans in the past 24 hours and catch them up on my life, hear about theirs, and feel more grounded to my network of support. So going into this lengthy day of traveling I am feeling much calmer and affirmed. Who knows, maybe Morocco will have some sort of eat, pray, love effect on me. I’ll delete social media off my phone and take lots of photographs and enjoy them for myself and have lots of free time to explore markets and meet new people and eat delicious food and walk around. Who knows if that’s realistic for me, given how much I rely on my people at home for support, but I think I’ve been using social media as a crutch. Anyways, it’s all happening!

[agirlnamedsteve]

What I woke up to on Sunday October 7th

Cw: sexual assault, Republican-bashing

I woke up in a hotel room with no windows, hungover, and checked my phone to see more texts than I was expecting. Being halfway across the world, it’s not uncommon for people to check in on me and reach out during the hours when I’m sleeping since those are peak hours back home. Today was different though. I received a prayer from my mom. I’m not a religious person, but this part made me cry.

“And may God bless you with enough foolishness,

To believe that you can make a difference in this world,

So that you can do what others claim cannot be done.”

I was prepared to learn that an illegitimate ruler of our country just had the illegitimate candidate he nominated to judge my bodily autonomy confirmed by a group of old white men (and women) who don’t represent me. I was prepared for the news, knowing fully well that even my foolish hopes that the outcries of survivors would make an impact on the vote couldn’t save us from this outcome. There was nothing I wasn’t prepared for, since the past 2 years since I started college and our country began its governance under yet another racist, sexist pig (I miss u Obama) I have felt that every news alert, every oppressive tweet, and every disappointment has just taken my body and thrown it against a building repeatedly. While it doesn’t show on the outside, my internal organs are bleeding and I have a heart that is bruised. I recieved texts from friends who are with me in Vietnam offering their support, from my older sister, former partners, and people who love me from all walks of life. I have recently made myself more vulnerable by sharing more personal details about myself on the internet and being much more politically active on my social media platforms regarding Kavanaugh and the nuances of women and survivors in a society where politics have never regarded anyone except white males as deserving of full respect. Listening to “Eloquent Rage” by Brittney Cooper and reading the words of bell hooks and Cleo Wade and other intersectional feminists who I admire and engage with daily had been cathartic for me. It’s put things into perspective for me, and it’s expanded the ways that I go about processing difficult information. First there’s the knowledge that women of color have always had it this bad. That Dr. Ford was more believable because she’s an academic and a white woman. That republican women are here to advance their own causes as women, and not to bring up marginalized women with them. I’ve learned more about white feminism, and I’ve learned about who out of the men in my life are interested in speaking out and who will remain silent. I’ve appreciated and admired every person that has spoken out on their social media platforms and every person who had reached out to me in any way, shape, or form to acknowledge my humanity and my anger. I have appreciated that prior to any of this Kavanaugh bullshit I was already receiving anti-oppression training and becoming more aware of my privilege and positionality. While it is easy for me to get caught up in the parts of my identity that have been more difficult–– being raised by a single mother, having an emotionally distant father, growing up queer and struggling with body image, surviving sexual assault–– there are parts of my identity (my whiteness, upper-middle socio-eonomic upbringing, liberal arts college education) which grant me privilege and power that is simply not accessible to all people, especially POC. Additionally and above all, because I have benefitted from my whiteness, I often fail to see the intersections that amplify my power and recognize that regardless of how much I try to engage with female writers and activists of color, I can and should always be working to do better. And to know that I have this privilege, and to use it for the advancement of all people. But I digress...

This week I joined the survivors who came forward with their experiences of sexual assault. It has been 2 years and a few months, and I just never found the right time. It also took quite a bit of learning and unlearning for me to understand the depth and weight of what had happened to me. It took me a long time to remember that it was due to others not stepping up and sharing their stories and concerns that I was put in the vulnerable position I was to be assaulted that night. He never would have been there in the first place if others had expressed their concerns of his predation. I don’t harbor any resentment for the situation I was placed in. I do, however, know that it is my duty, as it was the duty of Dr. Ford, and the duty of all survivors, to out the people who have harmed us in an effort to make the world a safer and more just place. When I shared my experience, I don’t know what I expected. Due diligence meant that he needed to be contacted about what I had shared, and when I learned that, I panicked. I felt so heard and believed when I reported the incident. But I felt conflicted by the news that he would  face consequences for his actions, or atleast learn that he has had this lasting impact on someone he’s probably forgotten about. While I knew that must be part of the process, I had discounted how much it would affect me that he would have my name spoken to him, my experience relayed to him. I’m not pressing charges, so i’ll never have to sit in a courtroom opposite him and hear his voice, which will likely tell tales of assumed consent and blurred lines. The way I see it now, I was incapacitated, I blacked out during it, I have felt unsafe for myself and others in that space ever since. So from a hotel room in Hoi An, I drafted an email and decided I was done carrying this on my shoulders anymore.

I’ve been trying to reduce my social media usage and live in the moment right now but it’s so hard. There’s so much going on, and so much I want to share in, but I’m tired and I’m done. I am disappointed, I am shattered, and i’m halfway across the world, unable to truly mourn with the people I want to mourn with. And that’s what’s made this past week or so a very difficult time for me. I know it’s not selfish of me to keep myself distracted and enjoy traveling and going out with my friends. But my internal dialogue isn’t matching my exterior. I don’t know how to share the ways I’m feeling without burdening others with the depth and weight of what I’ve been going through, I don’t want to attract the kind of attention or sympathy that comes with sharing those intimate details. But I do wish I could hop on a flight to California tomorrow and curl up in my twin sized bed and watch Chef’s table until I feel better. Maybe then I won’t feel so guilty about clubbing in Saigon.

[agirlnamedsteve]

Things I want to learn more about:

*a non-exhaustive list

-Watergate: we could be living the next Watergate! I’m listening to the podcast “Slow Burn” to get more insight on this.

-Asexuality: there’s a lot to this, but I think that asexuality, or at least demi-sexuality may be an aspect of my queerness that I’m growing into. There was a really great post on Slutever that was super helpful in understanding the complexities of asexuality, but I’m still mulling this over a lot. Also maybe I just have a low sex drive? Sex is cool and all I’ve just never really needed it to connect with someone or even for my own pleasure.

-The American Political System: As I learn more and more about the one-party system in Vietnam and gather more politically informed opinions about how our democracy is or isn’t working in the U.S., I’ve found myself looking for a deeper understanding of what’s going on here. Crash course U.S. history has been helpful (thanks John Green), as has the course I’m currently taking on political economy and environmental history that focuses on neoliberalism. It’s also helped me to identify the gaps in my understanding.

-Philosophical theory: I took my first philosophy course last semester and while I think I understand utilitarianism, I couldn’t tell you anything about Barthes or Freud or any other classic philosophical theory. I do know that I want to get some sort of basic understanding because first off, @ripannanicolesmith posts fire Barthesdashian memes and also I’m concerned by the convergence of philosophy and white intellectual boys with superiority complexes and want to be there to combat this with my own superiority complex.

-General art history: I’m listening to “Last Seen” right now on WBUR and absolutely loving it, and I took a course that covered American artists/socialites in Paris (read: John Singer Sargent’s Madame X wowza drama!), but other than trips to various museums across the country and lots of appreciation for modern art in general/artists I support on their instagram platforms I lack a basis of formal understanding about art that I think would be great. I also have loved watching the Netflix documentary-series “Abstract” and thinking about how cool a future of sustainable and affordable architecture would be.

-Eco-feminism: Naturally, the climate change students love ecology and we love feminism. I didn’t realize there was a such a wealth of research and academia surrounding eco-feminism! This is incredible! I need to read some Val Plumwood stat! I always knew there was a connection between my queerness and my love of the Earth, and I ave loved being a self proclaimed “eco-queer” with some dear friends from school, but I didn’t know there was any actual research behind this! My heart is happy. I can’t wait to learn more.

-Getting involved in some movements: I care about the Earth and its people and all of its creatures so much. I have so many things I care about and I know there is so so much work to be done. I want to be a part of it. I have so many ideas for what I want to do this summer, but I am trying to take some of the critical feedback I received this past summer and narrow my scope. I really do think big picture, which I believe is to my benefit, but sometimes it turns into me thinking I can solve and take on everything, and nobody can do that all the time. That’s just unrealistic, and that’s how I burn out. I need to get specific, and I need to keep reminding myself that I still have a year and half until I need to be a real adult in the real world. And even then I don’t have to have it all figured out. I’m just trying to do my best.

[agirlnamedsteve]

Tunnel Vision

Most recently I’ve been finding that the parts of the world that aren’t connected to my immediate academic interests are the things I want to write about most. Using the time I have outside of class to write for myself has been so cathartic, and really kept my mind rambling on and on as I build upon and connect the thoughts I’m forming. Right now, I’m still processing my last summer spent at camp. 

As a joke, I like to say that I spend my summers as a professional role model. In some way though, I know this is true. Even if only one 12 year old in the world feels better about themselves or more understood, I know I’ve done something to be proud of. That time in my life is absolutely seared in my mind forever. As a 12 year old I was so awkward, and so wonderfully unaware of it at the same time. I knew something felt sort of off, but regardless of what that was, I was insistent that I was rocking it. 12 was the age I met Justin Bieber. I was over the moon. 12 was also the year that some of the rookie bits of life started creeping in on me. 12 was the year I got called fat by a classmate to my face. 12 was the year people started spreading rumors that I was gay. But 12 was also a year that I affirmed to myself that I really didn’t care what people thought of me. I toughened my exterior. I reminded myself over and over again that I just needed to be myself and nothing else mattered. Looking back, I would say pretty confidently that this worked for me half the time, and the other half I just sat in discomfort and let it be. This dichotomy of the way I felt inside versus the confidence I projected externally persisted pretty much all the way through high school. I was such a scrambled mess of body positivity and internal self deprecation. I would like to say the positives outweighed the negatives. I’ve always been an optimist. I knew there was something better for me. I knew that the perfection that Southern California projected wasn’t real, and I knew that there were people that looked and felt like me somewhere else. I saw those people at camp every summer. I knew it was cool to be different and weird. 10 months out of the year I compared myself to unrealistic standards for myself, but those 7 weeks at camp stayed with me through the toughest parts of the year. 

I was lucky to have teachers who expected hard work and valued participation and diligence over anything else, and those experiences have most definitely defined my nerdiness and academic drive into college. I was struck by some kind words that my English teacher wrote about me in the intro to a blog post I wrote for him a few weeks ago that made me feel like I was much more seen and understood by people in high school than I believed. In reference to a Walt Whitman quote, “I exist as I am, that is enough”, he wrote: “When Alison was in my class over those two years, I got the distinct sense that she was in the process of this kind of self-acceptance project.” And I was. That’s been my life’s work so far. A work in progress of sorts. 

The post itself was a tribute to these tunnel-vision thoughts that I often entertain. The ones that make me believe that the grass is greener on the other side. The ones that repeat themselves over and over again: “The future will pan out, everything will be okay, trust in the process.” What I realized through writing this piece is that some of the most formative parts of my life have been in these moments of discomfort, in the process of growing up, and in the process of self-acceptance. These didn’t have to do with me making massive career moves or winning big awards. In fact, looking back, they were smaller moments of less significance. It’s ben in moments of self reflection that I’ve realized the weight these moments hold in my overall sense of self. I’ve never been one to define myself in terms of concrete accomplishments, I build my sense of self through relationships and through teachable moments. Without living through all of these experiences I wouldn’t be the me that I know and love. It took overcoming the unrealistic expectations I placed on myself in primary school to help me realize that I am a real and valid human without anyone else’s approval. It’s been such a liberating process to feel good about myself and what I’m doing in the world without any external affirmation. Obviously I seek validation, and I feel so lucky to have friends who know this about me and uplift me with their words and their presence. But traveling has reminded me that without these people who know and love me so well standing by my side reminding me constantly that I am a great human, I have to go out of my way to be my own biggest fan. I always feel like I need to be doing more, but I know that my heart is in the right place and I am doing enough. I think 12 year old me would be relieved to know that it gets better and it’s going to be okay. I also think 20 year old me could use a reminder. But that’s part of the joy of the process, isn’t it? We get to look back in nostalgia at those days when we wanted nothing more than to be grown up, to be different, to be changed. And then life goes on. 

[agirlnamedsteve]

So it goes

Why start a blog? I write to process. I also write to share. I want a place where I can do both and where nobody (and anybody) can partake. A journal of sorts. I want to find my own voice. I want to put my writing that I keep to myself somewhere concrete. I want to do something meaningful. I want to share about myself for myself to read. I want a space to be political and to question my identity. I have a million questions for the world and I want to find those answers. 

I’m in a very tender place right now. I feel like a fake human traveling and learning and I want to be home and settled so badly. I’m trying to make meaning of all that I’m studying and experiencing, but my head is stuck in a tunnel vision to my far away future. I try to live in the moment and enjoy, and before I know it days turn to weeks and weeks turn into a month. I know this is the process, but I have such a difficult time accepting the minutiae. I love the people I’m with but I miss my friends. 

I think in starting this I’m hoping to accomplish something. What that is, I don’t really know. So it goes.