Night

My little town takes the holiday season to the extreme. You can't walk three feet down the street without getting tangled up in Christmas lights, or running into a plywood elf. In the daytime it's cheerful if not slightly kitschy, like one of those lifetime movies with the tambourine music in the background, but at night-

At night it's pretty beautiful. The sidewalks roll up and there's no one on the road, and you can drive down the street at 5mph and no one will bother you. The gazebos glitter like carousels with garlands and lights and bows, and the storefront displays come alive. Everything glows warm and yellow through the still, crisp air. The live oaks are all wrapped in lights, set afire in hues of off-white. The town Christmas tree is coated in baubles and shimmering rainbows, reflected in tinsel.

Whole buildings are drenched with swathes of gleaming color. The quaint architecture takes on the quality of life size gingerbread houses, or a miniature display.

It's not like other places, because it hardly ever rains here, and the dry roads are an inky black against the illuminated trees and buildings. The contrast is striking. The stars shine brightly in a dark sky, and breath puffs out in a steamy wisp.

From a distant hill, the whole town flickers like the flame of a candle, beautiful in it's quiet serenity.

Occasionally I enjoy living here.

Day 28 Changes

30 Day Letter Challenge

Day 28 — Someone that changed your life

My fifth grade teacher was a bitch. She made me hate school and I started flunking out and not wanting to do my homework. I was a pretty great student before she came along, so she definitely changed my life. I could be a lawyer or a marine biologist, or a zoologist. Or a cop - I think I'd like to be a cop.

My high school drama teacher changed my life. He gave me a therapeutic outlet when I needed one, he got me into theater, which got me into college, he was the only person who noticed when my anorexia was getting out of control. He founded the GSA club at my school and convinced me that I should join, even before I knew I was gay, though I was a huge gay rights activist at 14.

He grounded me, gave me balance, gave me a safe space to scream and cry when my world was crashing down and then taught me how to rebuild. He could turn a drama class into a playground for two year olds, or send us drifting high above the earth like astral projection. There were no limits as to what our bodies were capable of with him. After college, he gave me a reference for a steady job. He looks out for me, he laughs with me, he tells me to cut the crap when I'm holding myself back. He's everything a teacher is supposed to be.

Family Love/Hate

I love my family. I write about them a lot. I have fond memories of them and enjoy spending time with them. But sometimes I just want to smack them. Some of my family is desert redneck, and that's okay. They're good people, funny, know how to have a good time with a piece of plywood, some rope, and an ATV, and can make one hell of a mudslide (the drink). But, they also say some things I just can't handle - it comes with the territory.

My mom's cousin is one of those people who says a lot of things I disagree with. She's had it rough, fighting cancer and then later her daughter was born with Cystic Fibrosis. C was pretty cool - I have a lot of her art. She was fascinated with death and dying, big on the punk scene and Tim Burton movies. But she didn't make it past 16, and that was hard on her mom - on the whole family. After C died, my mom's cousin took a trip to Israel with her other daughter.

So here's the post I saw on Facebook today: The most amazing, spiritual & emotional 10 days of my life were spent in Israel. Hanging out in Downtown old Jerusalem. Being baptized in the Jordan. Actually touching the pavement where they forced Jesus to walk with his cross. The saddest pictures are of Ron and I on the beach in tel aviv, which is now empty because of the bombing. And lastly the empty tomb. Please pray for Israel and the Jewish people, "CHRISTIANS STAND BEHIND ISRAEL"

Blah, blah, blah, (Jesus didn't walk on pavement) blah, blah - "Christians stand behind Israel."  38 likes. I'm sorry, what? I'm not Christian, but I was raised Catholic so I should have a pretty fair idea of what this means and why people are getting behind it. But aren't Christians all for brokering peace? Didn't Jesus say he who is without sin, cast the first stone? Israel is bombing the hell out of Gaza and Hamas is trying like crazy to send out rockets, but their attempts are feeble in comparison. 

So what I'm hearing is that she's all for a religious and territorial war that she has no business being a part of or cheering for. If you want to pray for something, pray for peace, pray for resolution. Pray for both sides and the lives that have been lost in the names of gods which are all ultimately the same.

If you haven't read the Gazan Youth Manifesto for Change, read it now. It's halfway down the page, marked in bold with Manifesto.

Also, if you're interested, this is a NYT article focusing on the three generations of a family living in Gaza that were killed during an Israeli airstrike, as well as the emotional climate of the area right now.

Day 17 Childhood

30 Day Letter Challenge

Day 17 — Someone from your childhood

I feel like all I do is talk about my childhood. You've heard about my childhood friends, about Ladybug, even briefly about the giant, mean kid down the street who used to beat me up. I spent a fair amount of my formative years crying before I learned that if he chucked a hammer at me I could throw it back and it would hurt him just as bad.

Cul-de-sac

 I grew up on a cul-de-sac, a street which was closed off from everything and provided lots of space to play. Six of the houses on my street all had kids within a few years of my own age, so we grew up together in big backyards and long summer days. Because it was a safe, rural neighborhood, our parents gave us free reign, and we left to play in the river or ride our bikes several miles into the mountains or venture into town without any pesky questions. Think little rascals, to a point, though we didn't get in trouble much. When someone got hurt, we'd break an ice plant stalk in half and rub it on like Bactine. Was it a good idea? Probably not, but everyone learned how to soldier on.

When the days grew long, we ate dinner outside in the street and told ghost stories in the twilight. We played Kick the Can and Ghost in the Graveyard in the darkness. And then, when we got exhausted, we would pull out our sleeping bags and lawn chairs and set up camp in the road and watch for shooting stars in the clear, crisp sky and awake with dew on our faces. Or we'd awake in our beds, if it got particularly cold and our parents came to get us.

Once in a while the coyotes or mountain lions would come around out of curiosity, and we would all freak out. Coyotes are better, louder from further away, so we could scream and run into the nearest person's house and they get more scared of us than we are of them. No one ever got bit by either animal.

Milky Way from Mount Pinos - not my small mountain, but a similar view.

The one thing I love about living in a small town is the lack of light pollution. There's a camp at the top of one of our small mountains, and when you stand at the top, you can see in every direction. You can see the rolling hills continue for miles, or over another mountain range, or all the way to the ocean and the end of the earth. At night, more stars than you could have ever imagined blaze in the dark. The meteor showers here are spectacular, and as fire streaks across the sky, you can almost reach out your hand to touch it.

I think that's what I miss most.

Day 10 Friends

30 Day Letter Challenge

Day 10 — Someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like to

This is farther than I got last time, so go me!

Dear Adam,

I miss you. That might be my most honest sentence in this whole letter. It used to be that you needed me, or I needed you, and that need kept us close. But now you're engaged (congrats! I love her! Can I just take a minute to boast that if I hadn't made you fully aware of how much whats-her-face sucked you never would have met your beautiful, amazing, talented future wife? Chalk one up for me) and I'm doing well, and we don't need to talk like we used to, so we don't.

It's interesting that in all the years we've been friends, we've never gone out for pizza, or hung out at your house or mine, or gone to the movies. We don't spend time together unless we're ducking out of a religious activity, out walking or sitting at some park talking about our issues! You have to realize how weird that is, right?

Anyway, I've known you my whole life and just because our lives don't suck anymore (relatively) doesn't mean I want you to exit stage left. Who else is going to help me find the little dipper? Who else would talk me out of dying my hair yellow? You're important and I like having you around. Plus, my life is going to suck eventually and no one knows me better or can get me to talk better than you do (including best friend from Day 1 with whom I have a hard time communicating). You make me say what I feel. You don't assume and let things slide and let me avoid and I love that about our friendship.

Thanks for being there,

-

Avoidance

I avoid a lot of things.  In face to face conversations I have a hard time admitting my feelings, even if it's just admitting to physical pain like a headache or stubbed toe.  When I write my yearly Christmas letter, there are giant elephants dancing across the stationary which I refuse to acknowledge.  I won't talk about the man who messes up the family dynamic, even though my extended family is burning with questions about him.  Even when I blogged consistently for a whole year, I avoided talking about the girl that broke my heart.

I avoid doing laundry until it's necessary, and same goes for washing my car.  I avoid making my bed because, honestly, I'm just going to crawl back in it in a few hours.  I avoid important conversations, simmering arguments, anything which I believe will be taxing and a pain in my ass.  I avoid it until I absolutely can't anymore, and then it blows up and smooths over and everything is, usually, fine.

So I was really proud of myself this weekend when I stumbled onto a made-for-TV movie on Lifetime called "Girl Positive."  I'm not usually a Lifetime movie kind of girl, but this one caught my eye and I couldn't shut it off.  The movie stresses the importance of cautious sexual interaction and the reality of HIV among the suburbs and non-risk groups in the US.

When I turned it off, I realized- I'm in my mid-twenties and I've never been tested.  Can you believe that?  It never seemed quite so insane to me because I've never had intercourse with a man, but after watching that movie- how ignorant could I sound?  Like that is the only way to get an STD/I or HIV.

It's not like my sexual education was lacking.  My health class taught me all about being safe and staying healthy, but when I came out all possibility of testing positive for anything sort of flew out the window for me.  Gay and Lesbian sex was not exactly stressed in the health curriculum in my little Mormon and Catholic town.

But, instead of procrastinating or avoiding, like I would normally do, I called up my local clinic to get a blood test.  Now I have to wait.  The waiting part sucks.  I probably should have stuck with avoidance.  But at least once I know, I'll know, and hopefully it'll just be a reassurance- a peace of mind.

When I drafted this post last night I was scared.  I had expected to receive a call yesterday, but it was just radio silence.  Because we missed yesterday's deadline, I know that because of the clinic and the hours this particular doctor works, I might not get a call until next week.  Now I don't feel quite as scared.  The chances of me testing positive for anything are so slim that it's not worth worrying about until I know.

I just need to relax and let what happens, happen.  I'm sure it'll be fine.

National Coming Out Day

While I don't know anyone who has come out on National Coming Out Day, I think it is an important time to reflect on what it was like to be an individual confused, disoriented, pained, or upset by the struggles with their sexual identity. While my own discovery and coming out was relatively pain free (until first:girl broke my heart), I have taken this day to listen to others and imagine what life is like for those past and present who have come out in awful situations. I think this is also a time to reflect on those we have lost because of their sexuality, whether death was self inflicted or not.

This morning, I couldn't imagine what it would be like to come out in a world where everyone hates you for being gay, where you feel isolated and abandoned by friends and family. I couldn't imagine what it would be liked to be pushed around, bullied, threatened, beaten up, mentally and physically abused.

I still can't imagine most of that. No one has ever beat me up because of my sexuality. But as of this afternoon, on this celebratory day for the LGBT community, I felt fear, despair, because someone didn't like that I was gay.

I was in the parking lot of the local supermarket when an old classmate recognized me. He was three years older than me, but he knew me well enough. He asked me if it was true, if I was a lesbian. "Yes, I am gay. Funny how things work out, isn't it?" was my witty Chatty Kathy reply. Instead of laughing, his whole face darkened, and he moved in so close I thought he might kiss me.

If you had seen the look in his eyes as he grabbed my arm, you would have felt that cold knot of fear slide into your throat too. He whispered that he couldn't do anything here and now, wouldn't get arrested over someone like me. "You better watch your step," he said. "I know you think you are winning now, but there are a lot of us who don't like what queers are doing to our country. Quit now, or you'll all end up in camps, and there won't be any homosexuals."

"Yeah, like the government will ever let that fly. Good luck with that." I should really shut my mouth in situations like this, but when I am backed into a for er, logic goes out the window. I am one of those people who spends too much money and then keeps spending because, fuck it, I've already used the credit card today.

Well obviously he didn't like that and I've got a nice abrasion on my arm to prove it. I can't remember his exact words, but the gist of it was that the government didn't need to know "officially" and there are many politians who would turn a blind eye if it was kept quiet enough.

He then told me that even though it's a small town, I shouldn't go out at night, because even though we all know each other, there are many who wouldn't try to save me if I were, say, raped in an alley.

He didn't hit me, didn't really hurt me, didn't even solidly threaten my life. But he shook me to my core. I think that is exactly what he wanted. He knows where I live, work, shop. Worst of all, he liked me in high school. We were friendly to each other, and he always called me funny and sweet. How can you like who I am, and then hate me for who I love? I think that scares me the most.

Update: December, one year ago, I wrote "Can fear actually make you a more confident person? Can you be so afraid that you put on a brave face, and through that facade become a more courageous person?"

Maybe this encounter has nothing to do with what I'm going through now, but maybe it does. Today, I am writing about first:girl, something I have never talked or written about with anyone. The secret is coming out, and my heartache is finally lessening with every paragraph.

Backlash/Constance

Constance is now a household name for those active in LGBTQ cultures. We look to her as part of a larger movement, we look to her as a bearer of LGBTQ rights in the next generation, we look to her as a girl who has been wronged for just being herself. We are all trying to do the right thing for her, as she has done the right thing for herself and the LGBTQ rights movement.

She has been wronged. She was wronged by small minded people who belittled her views, her beliefs, her sense of being. She was wronged by a bunch of whinging teenagers who are ego-centric and wanted their special night. Those whinging teenagers did what they felt was justified. The kids didn't say that Constance couldn't bring a date of the same sex, those were the school officials. Those same officials canceled the prom for everyone, devastating the teenagers who were raised to believe Prom is the best night of one's high school days. So the kids threw their own prom, and felt justified in doing so. I can understand that, from a psychological perspective.

I honestly think that except for a select few, the kids didn't invite Constance because she was the reason their prom was canceled, not because she was gay. Call me idealistic or naive, but these kids have gone to school with Constance for years, and I'm sure most know her well enough to look past her sexuality and regard her as a person. And Constance is, above all, one of the most loving, tolerant teenagers that I have ever heard of.

This is why, when I heard about the "Constance quit yer cryin'" Facebook page, I was shocked and appalled. I decided to head over there and check it out. Instead of posts from the kids of the school, I found a huge backlash from the LGBTQ community. There were countless posts saying "You homophobic, bible thumpin', rednecks, with IQs of 98, don't have the right to judge anyone!" among the few and far between posts of "Don't stoop to their level and call them names because that won't do anyone any good."

This was horrifying for me. The amount of hate spewed onto the wall of that Facebook page overwhelmed me. I could see the blood oozing from the old battle wounds of LGBTQ people, which had been ripped open and gouged anew by the hateful act done to Constance. It became clear that this hate crime (because really, that's what it is) was a personal assault against everyone in the queer community.

However, I was upset with the way people jumped in the fray to backlash against these teenagers. Hate begets hate; tolerance begets tolerance. By flaming those teenagers, we are reaffirming the belief that LGBTQ people are hateful, sinful, mean, and angry. We are doing nothing to change the views of the people who do not accept us. Constance's own quote about this was taken up as a battle cry. She wrote:

"ok i think that if people that are supporting what i am doing really support me they need to stop sending messages to people at my school because some of them are mature and stay out of it some of them support me and then there are the other people who are against me but since you dont know who is who please stop doing that because its not their fault. thanks."

"thanks everyone and you know i dont agree with what the school did obviously but i never wanted my classmates to have to suffer from it and many of them dont get that and want to blame me for everything and think i am doing this all for a faulty reason but i just want the negativity to stop because i try to be respectful and positive i find it to be more effective. please tell all your friends so as to get the word out."

This was immediately followed by posts saying that Constance was afraid that the students would take it out on her, and that caused for, wouldn't you know it, more hate towards the students. Well, Constance is a teenager in high school, dealing with peer pressure and being accepted. If you look at everything she says, every action she takes, you will realize that she is the type of person who wants everyone to like her. On top of that, she wants everyone to accept diverse sexualities. A good view of LGBTQ sexualities starts with the queer community taking the high road, not cussing out some 14 year old who didn't have anything to do with the original decision not to let Constance take her date to prom.

"Kill them with Kindness" was the phrase I grew up with. If someone didn't like me, I made them like me. I baked them cookies, I shared my lunch, I drew them pictures in my sloppy 5 year old way. In high school I was nice to everyone, helped everyone. As a community, if we want to change minds, we need to (figuratively) help little old ladies cross the road.

We have had names thrown at us like daggers, names which summed up who we were into a disparaging phrase or hateful word. Aren't we proving just how small minded we are to blame their bigotry on Christianity (which has a huge queer tolerant following) or "redneck towns" (my brother is a 'hick' and he has no problem with LGBTQ people) or any other generalization?

The fabulous Jesse James wrote something that struck me to the bone:
"Every day I get up and for some reason or another, in some moment or a few, I have to fight a little, stand up a bit at least, JUST TO BE ME.I’ll call Violet sweetie in the grocery store and when that guy stares at me, well, I’ve spent years now practicing how to be brave enough to stare back and not to let myself look away until after he does...We wake up, we brush our teeth and then we put on some combination and specific variety of armor that let’s us walk out the front door without dying, so that we can take the blows if and when they come. "
I fight every day by letting all those disparaging comments slide off of me, and I pull myself together, put on a bright smile, and charm that person like crazy. I am the girl who brings tulips to the lady on the corner that thinks I'm going to hell, I am the girl who brings a crying child back to its mother in the store. Every day I fight in my own way, and it is just as draining as fighting a full blown war. However, everyone I know says, "Oh, isn't she a darling girl? She's so thoughtful and compassionate." Occasionally there is a "It's such a shame that she's...that way," tacked on at the end. But everyone likes me, and I believe that's the first step.

Maybe the way people jump to violence, name calling, and cussing upsets me so much because I feel like it undoes the daily progress I make. I am trying to change minds, one at a time, until I can change my neighborhood, my town, my state, my world; every time there is a blurb on the news about a violent LGBTQ response to something, I have to start all over again.

If you want to make a real difference (I took this information from the wonderful Dorothy) write a letter or sign the petition:

CONTACT:

Itawamba County Schools Superintendent Teresa McNeece:

tmcneece@itawamba.k12.ms.us
662-862-2159 ext. 14

Itawamba Agricultural High School principal Trae Wiygul

twiygul@itawamba.k12.ms.us
662-862-3104

One more way to speak out. Sign the HRC petition to say "I stand with Constance McMillen.”

Femme Headbands/Gender Quotes

I watched "12 Men of Christmas" last night. Make fun of me all you want, but gay or straight I still like romantic comedies. Anyway, the movie takes place in a small town in Montana which has a total of 19,000 people.

My town has 5,000. Talk about a realization there. I hadn't really thought about my town as small, mostly because we have a lot of tourists flitting in and out. However, when it comes down to it, the people who are here for more than a few hours are sheltered, religious, not-queer people. This makes finding people I connect with (much less date) very difficult.

I saw this gorgeous woman in the parking lot today, and I wanted to go chat her up. She looked dressed up, like she was going out to dinner in a place where you didn't have to be fancy but you dress up because it's the only chance you get. It was the headband that threw me off. She looked sensational in her skinny jeans, high heels, and trendy black double-breasted coat, but she had her hair back with this cute cloth looking cream-yellow headband that did not go with the rest of the outfit. It doesn't really matter to me whether the headband matched at all, but it just stopped me in my tracks with it's little girl look. It punched me in the stomach and set up a big neon sign that said "She's totally straight, not your type, and will never date you." So I just kept walking to my car.

For all you lovely ladies out there, how do you feel about headbands without a dress? For some reason it seemed girlish with normal clothes, rather than when it's paired with a retro dress and is sassy. That, however, is only my opinion.

The other thing I ran across today was Genderfork. Which is made up of anonymous quotes sent into the website. I identified with so many of them and just wanted to share a few that really struck me.

"I've learned enough about gender to be utterly confused by the term."

"I love letting the top of my boxers show above the waist of my sari."

"I've come to realize that I don't feel like a lesbian- I feel like a female-bodied-androgynous-male-who-likes-girls."

"I don't mind people treating me like a lady, as long as they don't mind me acting like a gentleman."

"When I tell people I'm 5% male, 5% female & 90% genderless, they seem to forget one very important thing: I'm also 100% human"

"Kids get it. They dont care what I am. They just like it when I play with them. I wish adults could be more like that."

"How can I fuck with my gender more if I am a "str8-looking" lesbian and feel most comfortable that way?"

The bold/italicized ones are the ones I personally identify with. Do you have any gender/sexuality quotes that you identify with and want to share?