Not much geeking out but plenty of lack of diplomacy...

It's occurred to me that this blog has become more of a social commentary blog than a geek blog. I should be feeling bad about that but not so much because, you see, the title of the blog is still relevant.

There's a difference between speaking up and speaking out and being out and out rude. It's the difference between respecting boundaries and crossing over them, despite being told not to do so.

And sometimes...sometimes, boundaries are consciously crossed because the violation being done to a person means action must be taken.

I grew up in a small north Minnesotan town where everyone was encouraged to kowtow to "normalcy." Anyone who looked different, who acted different, who was different was regarded as an outsider and was bullied, ostracized, and made to feel like there was something inherently wrong with who they were.

I escaped with my life (barely) and rebuilt who I was little by little. It has not been an easy journey and I am still discovering who I am but like everyone else, that's a lifelong process. I figure that's death's final hah hah...just when things seem to be going the right way and a person has a grip on who they are, BOOM, dead.

I stand at the crossroads and choose again and again, much like Joscelin, and I never have regretted that choice. Intersectionality is what I live and breathe and let me tell you, as a genderqueer person of colour, there's plenty of opportunity to speak up so people understand who I am, who I represent, and that their assumptions and their utter rudeness isn't acceptable.

No, I will not go quietly and though my voice shakes from time to time, I'm going to have my say.

This has burned bridges. This has created a distance I cannot bridge between people who liked and knew me when I was a me five to ten years ago but am not that me now. This has me standing on the scorched earth and looking at the devastation and wanting to weep. But. Nobody has time for that. Not when I can also see the green sprouts of new growth pushing their way up through the ashes.

Sometimes. Sometimes, great good comes out of destruction.

So, I'll try to keep a balance between geeking out (because I do like to geek out) and my social activism and advocacy.

But if I don't, I'm not going to let it bother me too much. After all, I rolled a one in Diplomacy, mon chats. To put it bluntly, I don't give a rat's ass if I'm making you uncomfortable or not with my thoughts/feelings/observations about social construct, classicism, racism, sexism, nonconformity etc etc wah wah you have to think outside the box wah wah here's the tiniest violin in the world playing a tune for you blah blah blah...

Right.

Let's get back to it. I write what I want. You read if you want. That's how it rolls in the end.

Well, it was great while it lasted...

Have ya'll seen this yet?

Go on, click the link, I'll wait here while you take a gander...

Queer on Queer Hate Bingo

We all good? Dandy.

So the other day, I was inundated on Facebook and on Twitter by the HRC's famous symbol redone in red and pink for marriage equality. And, being the queer person I am, immediately added it as my own avatar on both my Facebook and Twitter feed.

I was happy cos it was my own show of support for Marriage Equality and fuck, yeah! Until I started reading things on my Twitter feed.

I love my twitter feed. I have the best people who post and share things there and I'm going to share a few things and then I'm gonna talk about them.

Here's the first link that's uber important. It's a long post so take your time, read, and process:

Why the transgender community hates HRC

Then, on my Tumblr, I read this:

Marriage Equality is not a transgender issue

And this:

Queer Undocumented Immigrant Project


After I read the first long post, I changed my avatars back to something else and reflected on how divisive our Queer community really is. We talk about 'Unity' and 'Family' but which family and what unity?

As a person of colour, as gender neutral identified, as a pansexual, the intersectionalities I am amongst resemble more of a spider web of interconnecting lines. I can talk about several issues that concern me when it comes to the Queer community because in one way or another, I've been forced to deal with my own community's rejection of me on some level or another.

In one circumstance, I'm not white but I am (gasp) ***EXOTIC*** and bring that "Oriental" experience to the table. Yes, I've been called Oriental. And yes, I've called the person on it with a 'that's not even ON' comment.

In another instance, asking to be called by my own pronoun preference of 'zie' or 'zer' has been met with puzzlement and sometimes, hostility cos it 'makes people uncomfortable.' Really? REALLY?? Yeah, people went there.

I had originally identified myself as bisexual but after contemplating my sexual desire, I feel pansexual better describes me but I heard plenty of bi-shaming during that time. I'd been called a 'lesbian' (no, and you knew I identified myself as bisexual), I'd been witness to 'jokes' about the 'sluttiness' of bisexuals and how 'confused' we are. It was pretty awful.

As far as one of my besties being Asexual, well, that doesn't really COUNT as Queer and Demisexual? Pfft. Whatever.

COME ON.

Take a good long look at the Queer Hate on Hate Bingo card again. Do you recognize yourself there? Did any of those sentiments pass your lips?

I'm so disgusted with HRC right now, as they say in street parlance, I can't even. An organization that champions equality and pulls this shit? That's called picking and choosing, mon chats, and the dictionary didn't have that under the definition of equality.

Marriage Equality is important. It really really is. But so is transpeople's rights and safety. In case you haven't been paying attention, Arizona's been particularly brutish towards our fellow Queer people.

Undocumented Queer people are equally as important. Their voices must be welcome at our table.

The ugly truth is that there is still plenty of divisiveness amongst the Queer community. There is plenty of Ageism and Body Imagism and all sorts of judgments being made of a person's gender and sexual orientation.

Ironic, isn't it? If the homophobes were smart, they'd have us turn against one another and rip each other to pieces, trying to get a piece of the 'My Voice Must be Heard' pie.

Oh, wait. They don't have to do that at all.

We do just fine by ourselves.

Checking In...Damage Report

I must admit, this has been quite the spring break, topped off by the most fucked up news coverage EVER and boy...

Today, I stayed home and slept until almost 2 pm because I was/am drained, triggered, pissed, enraged, kinda fucked up in the head.

I've been dealing with other emotional crap and this....the rape apologists and the mass media and rape culture have all conspired to remind me that I asked for the rapes I'd been through and that if I'm ever raped again, I should know better than to seek justice and prosecute the jack ass.

I've had my words twisted this past week and don't even do that. Don't go there. Don't put words in my mouth, don't take what I said and say it's something else and when I write something out, do not do NOT run with it and say I'm saying something that I am not.

Here's a fucking clue: IF I were saying something, I'd fucking say it. Straight up. Tits to ass, ok?

As it stands, I'm less than thrilled with having to clarify what I write because I don't think I should have to explain every. little. thing.

But.

As has been gently pointed out to me, writing something out leaves a whole lot to interpretation and reading between the lines and assuming things that haven't been spelled out and I get that. I've done my own share of assuming in the past and boy, does it bite me in the ass. I look stupid and I really hate looking stupid.

So I suppose I can ease up a little and growl softly and wait until my emotions aren't so tangled up in so many knots.

*****

And who said being an activist was easy? And standing up for a cause is easy? Sometimes, I have to remind myself of the people I owe my way from and remember that they, being pioneers, also had people misinterpret them, also had people turn away from them, also felt alone and afraid and beaten down at times.

I have to remember that this is the price that I have to pay if I'm to not be cowed by society and patriarchy and racism and homophobia and all that. I have to remember that my privilege of writing this out and not being afraid of taken away in the middle of the night or being assassinated on the streets or ambushed and beaten almost to death is something not to take for granted.

I have to remember that people DO believe in what I do and do understand what I do and I have held more people than I can count now and told them, 'YOU are NOT to be ashamed of who you are! You are worthy and beautiful and wonderful! I believe in you. I support you. I'm here for you.'

And I hope to do that again and again and again.

If the price I pay is for that...for seeing peoples' eyes shine and their faces light up, knowing that they are *heard* and they are being treated the way they *deserve*....sure.

I'll pay up. Every fucking time.

*****

I'll be better in a few days. The vitriol caught me for a loop, although it shouldn't have at all. I should, sadly enough, be used to it.

At least now, I have peoples' measure. At least now, I know where I stand with certain individuals and while I won't lie and say it doesn't hurt...

Hell with it.

I'm a big girl. I got my big girl panties on.

I'm rolling with the punches, mon chats.

As always, it makes me stronger. It makes me wiser. It teaches me the lessons I need to learn.

A small breather, my friends...a moment to gather myself together.

I'll be OK.

Two tales of Woe and One of Joy

I have a twitter account and on my feed, I have subscribed to some amazing people. I'm not much with 'famous' people. I think I only follow one or two.

I'm much more into fellow queers. feminists, activists, and advocates. I get all the good stuff from them...and the bad stuff, too.

Here's a couple of shitacular things from my feed and one that absolutely broke me...but in a wonderful, amazing way.

*****

Have you heard of the National Organization for Marriage? Also known as NOM, they are the anti-queer group that has been listed as a hate group by the Southern Poverty Law Center, a non profit civil rights organization that tracks such groups throughout the United States and the world.

NOM's latest attacks on same sex marriage have reached a new nauseating low. John Eastman, the chair of NOM was quoted as saying that 'adoption in families...by a heterosexual couple, is by far the second-best option.'

Oh, really?

So, let me get this right. Point the first, adopted families are inferior to those families whose mothers were able to conceive and bear children. Point the second, hetero sexual families are OK to adopt but not same sex families. Point the third, adopted *children* are inferior to biologically born children.

Right. Here's my Point, motherfucker: You and your whole organization and words like these are hurtful, venial, & as about unfamily as one could be.

Also, from my own adopted queer potty mouth: Fuck off, you bunch of bloody wankers.

I imagine I'd be their *perfect* poster child as why an adopted child is much more inferior than a biological child.

Hah. As my son would say, 'Come at me, bro. Let's do this.'

Ya'll can pop popcorn and enjoy the show.

*****

Moving from NOM's "expert" opinion on family life, there's this news that's making its way around now.

Republican Bob Porter has recently announced that his position on same sex marriage has changed. Yes, shocking, I know, yet another politician who's milking the political cow for all it's worth.

Moo, Motherfucker.

Why has this change of heart occurred? Why, because he has a gay son and all of a sudden, he joins the group of Republicans who have issued statements of support for queer people in, well, queer ways.

You know, like Laura Bush who said in an interview that she's all right with queer folk. Yet I don't see her being a strong ally.

And then, of course, we have Dick Cheney whose personal motto might be, 'it's all right as long as it's in the family but forget that nonsense about equal rights and all that.' (cue harumphing noises)

Yeah, OK.

Don't get me wrong. I think it's great that Bob's son is being supported by his dad. That's super important.

But it's funny how his dad has been against same sex marriage and equal rights for queers all these years and you know what, Bob?

Nice of you to have that stance while your kid is right there, a real life reminder of who you're blocking rights from...I mean, how do you think that made him feel?

I don't know. I don't know when the young man came out to his family....and I'm not about to put words into his mouth...

But I can tell you how *I* felt when I heard my own parents expressing disgust for queer people and let's not even get into the day my father said something along the lines of 'AIDS is a gay person's disease.'

Picture a small nuclear explosion above our house that day and you'll get an idea.

And people wonder why it took me so long to come out of my own personal closet?

Look, it's great that he's all supportive and an ally now and all that blah blah bullshit stuff, ok? Super. Lovely.

But let's not forget the fact that this man has denied equal rights for YEARS to the queer community.

I'm not pinning any fucking medals on him.

*****

And finally, the thing that broke me...that made my heart swell just like the Grinch (only much larger) and had me crying happy tears.

I gotta share this photo. Click on the link and it'll open up.

Take a gander at this picture. Read the note. And see how this dad puts fake ass Bob Porter to shame.


LOVE!!!!

Honestly, do you see why I bawled? oh my god. I don't know who this dad is, but I want to hug and kiss him...and the kid's mom, too.

I wish every queer kid had parents like this kid. Hell, I wish I did. (wry smile)

But there you go. Two sads and a Fuck yeah, awesome!

If your heart hurts today cos of all that meanness out there, just click on the picture again, ok?

And feel free to share the love...this picture should go viral.


Take care, dear hearts. Stay strong. We have allies and friends and those who'll fight the good fight with us.

Don't ever forget!

When you hit my triggers, it goes like BOOM

I've been really blunt about living with mental illness. It is part of my life. It's not MY life although, at times, the fucking Darkness wants to roll me over and make me beg for my life. Lay me flat on my back with my belly up in the air and myself gasping for breath. Yeah, I have those days.

But I refuse to let it have any more of my life and my head than it already does. Some days, the fight goes well. Some days, I wrap myself up in my electric blankie, drink tea, sleep, and remind myself that I'm still alive and that's what counts, Motherfucker!

This past week, I've been triggered by some events. Triggered by people. I have reacted the following ways:

Slept for shit. I kid you not, when I don't get enough sleep, my whole body feels it and it's run city. It's pretty much what you see is what you get and when I get maybe four hours of sleep three days in a row? It's not a good thing, mon chats, not at all.

Cried. Or tried to. It's hard for me. I've been conditioned that crying=weak ass Motherfucker and boy oh boy, not so much. So I remind myself it's OK to cry but by that time, I'm so shut up like a steel trap that it isn't happening. The crying, that is. So instead, I go for door number three...

Rage. Or, cos it's pre moon cycle week (well, it was) sad-rage which is about as much fun as putting your finger into a light socket. Really really.

And the worst part of it is that I have to let it roll out. If I have PTSD reactions, if I flinch more than usual, if I cringe at loud noises and ghost around people, it's what happens when my triggers are hit.

And my living with mental illness becomes me skirting the edges of the Darkness and I really don't want that.

So.

I see some big changes coming in my life. I see some necessary arrangements happening. It's hard to change. I like consistency and I like stability but I'm used to chaos and I'm used to the ground shifting under my feet.

I'll land on my feet. I always do.


In the meantime, I'm kind to myself. I gather those around me who will Love me for me and will take care of me. I slowly regain my strength and slowly recover from the triggers that went off without any warning whatsoever.

And I'm not ashamed of this. I'm not feeling guilty or thinking I'm a bad person. I'm coping the best I can and by not being an abusive asshat back is worth something, I'd say.

Soon. I promise you. As soon as I catch my breath.

As for you, triggers....have fun while you can. I'm shutting you down as soon as I'm able.

Changing of the Guard

After some deep thoughts which eventually made their way to my conscious from my Bear subconscious, I realized that I need to do one final step to make my life mine in every which way.

I was born in South Korea, given a name by the orphanage (there wasn't a name pinned to me or any other kind of identification when I was found) and then renamed when I was brought to the United States.

After many years, I've become estranged from the family I was raised in through conscious decisions on both sides, some more than others. Now, I look at who I am and think of other Queer people who've also had their familial ties cut and decide to rebirth themselves.

This comes in a variety of ways....and for some, it includes a new name change.

For me, it's something I've thought about off and on during the years. I've kept my sons' last name because it would make it easier for them and for such things as school records.

Now that my sons are teen age boys, I feel I have more room to move in and after evolving and realizing that my gender is gender-neutral identified rather than 'female', I thought about choosing a new name for myself.

This isn't something I do lightly. It's going to require paperwork, documentation, and, of course, the almighty dollar for it to go through. I figure between needing a copy of my Naturalization Certificate (which I don't have on me now) and the name change court fees itself, it'll end up being around $500. Ouch. Merry fucking Christmas, Birthday, and Blessings be to me. Heh.

Still. My goal is to be truly me and...using the name I was given hurts now. There are memories that remind me daily of what I no longer have and will no longer have in my life. I'd rather not have those daily aches in my heart and would rather make a clean break of it.

So, I will become like the Phoenix and rebirth myself in the fires of everything that has hurt me and has haunted me. I can rise from the ashes and go forward and leave that past behind.

But a name! There was one important criteria for me. It had to be gender neutral. So I used my friend, Google, and googled gender neutral names. There was a lot of information there and I looked at a few websites before finding one that had gender neutral names by alphabet. That was dandy fine so I started with  a few favourite letters and went from there.

After I chose the names I liked best, I did some research. I didn't want a name that was a female version of a man's name straight up. I wanted a name that was truly neutral that someone could choose. So, even though I really like Irish names, too many of them mean 'the son of' and that wouldn't do.

I have four names that I'm considering. I need a middle name and a last name and that one I think I know of a last name that I'd like to have but I'm going to have to do some research on that, too.

I am, cautiously, thrilled with my progress, when it comes to putting the past aside, and I'm anxious to move forward and be the person I am deep inside.

I won't say there isn't hurt and there isn't grief because there is. I won't say that I wish things were different because I wish they could be. But. Life happens and it's up to me to go on living and Loving and laughing.

 I won't give up.

Anger Issues & Such Indelicacies...

Well, now.

For those who know me fairly well, I am, shall we say, an intense person. It's taken me some time to learn how to ease back on the throttle and to learn how to say what I want to say with more conciseness.

My writing style is less Ernest Hemingway and more Mark Twain--and that's fine by me. I like a good yarn and if I write in a way that is welcoming and engaging to people, that's pretty awesome.

I tend to forget the folksy style, however, and Hemingway my writing (there, I just created a new writing phrase, y'all) when it comes to social justice issues. I won't beat around the bush and I won't dilute what I'm saying out of fear of offending people.

This is bombastic, bold, forward, whatever you wish to call it and I agree. I can come across as pushy, arrogant, straight talking, whatever else, both positive and negative. And given to misinterpretation or misunderstandings.

Here's something to chew on: If you have a problem with me or think I'm, oh, a man-hater or am always angry or something like that, come talk to me about it. And after you get done pushing your POV on me, fair's fair. Like I tell my sons, they get one shot at you and they better make it count cos otherwise, they're gonna either wish they never fucked with you or they're going to learn a bitter lesson.

Bring it, I say. And here's my response back. Now that I've heard from various sources that I'm too much & too angry & too focused on this 'rape stuff' and this 'queer stuff', it's my turn.

You're right. I'm angry. And I'm focused. Absolutely. But with that being said, as a person who sees the daily bullshit in mass media and in our culture, a little anger is a logical reaction.

See, I'm not a man hater. But I do loathe men who carry on with the patriarchal bullshit and misogyny.

But I'm also not crazy about women who buy into the patriarchal bullshit and misogyny and parrot that shit.

Scratch that, I'm not crazy about PEOPLE, period who carry on with that. People who are rape apologists. People who are transphobic and homophobic and biphobic and well, phobic, period. In regards to people who are seen as 'deviants'.

Hey, if you aren't crazy about bugs and heights, I totally am on that band wagon. But I digress.

I've learned in sociology and anthropology that deviancy is anything that's outside the norm and anything that's outside the norm is subjective. I've also learned that just cos I know that fancy explanation doesn't help my heart any when I'm called a 'freak' or 'bitch' cos I'm open about my own deviancies.

I'm angry because people are being victimized, bullied, beaten, raped, and *murdered* cos some asshat with no concept of open mindedness decides to make like some Dystopian vigilante and dispense their idea of justice.

I'm angry because people continue to carry elitist, classicist attitudes and refuse to consider intersectionality when it comes to being an activist and/or advocate.

I'm angry because when I tell people, this is an example of all that bullshit, it's my fault for bringing it up. Yeah, that's awesome. Blame the person for having the guts in the first place to say, 'look....this isn't cool and this is why.'

Nice. And I'm angry because I like to think that my friends are the ones who will back me up. Everyone else might troll me or call me names but my friends will go, 'We dig it.'

No, not so much...at least, not with some of them and at that point, are we really friends? Cos, bluntly, I'm beginning to wonder.

Here's the thing, lads.

It *hurts* to see this shit every day. It hurts to read my twitter feed and see examples of how people can hurt each other in horrific ways. It breaks my heart to talk to people who feel as though they're worthless & there's nobody who loves them for who they are. I cry when I read comments that blame the survivor, that encourage the hurtfulness to go on...I've been known to curl up into a small ball under my electric blankie and bawl my eyes out, just so I can let those feelings out.

And so you ask, why do it, then? Why be an advocate? Why be such an outspoken activist? Why put that target on your back?

And I can give you names. I can give you the names of the young who've been bullied and have died of suicide. I can give you the names of activists in Africa who died fighting for equal rights and the damn right to live as a queer person. I can give you names of rape survivors and people living with mental illness and people who hate themselves cos they aren't 'normal.'

I can list the people of colour who have stood up and stood for equality and human dignity. Some have been murdered for it. Others still fight the good fight.

I am honoured to be an activist. I will never lose the wonder of being introduced as an advocate for people living with mental illness. I will never not feel that shiver down my spine when people talk to me and tell me I've changed their life.

I am humbled by peoples' trust. I am astounded by the allies I've come across and the conversations we've had and how we're all linked together in the Good Fight. Me. I'm part of that. I am...there are no words.

So.

Before you assume I hate men. Before you assume I'm always this Walking Pillar of Anger & Scorch the Earth.

Nah. Yeah, I get angry. Yeah, I'm going to get passionate and intense when I talk about these issues. So does everyone else when it comes to something they really like.

But I do this not out of anger but out of this...this fierce hope and this tenderness and this Love that supercedes fear and loneliness and ostracism. I've seen progress and I've seen people open themselves to different ways of thinking and different lives than theirs and I've seen people who've felt as though they had nobody who would be there for them find out differently.

And then, I cry for another reason...for the awesomeness and the gratitude and the feeling of connection that wipe out, for that time, all that ugliness and hurt and we look at each other as we should: fellow human beings on this journey called life.

So, OK. That's what I have to say to all of you who assume you know me so well. Hopefully this helps.

I'm making no apologies for being who I am and doing what I'm doing. Don't mistake this as one; that would be unwise.

When all is said and done, I'll take my anger and be judicious with its use. I'll fuel my advocacy and activism with the outrage I feel when I read about injustices. I'll keep reading and learning so as to truly be open to all types of intersectionality. I will continue to blog, continue to share links, continue to let people have the opportunity to challenge their own preconceived notions.

Come on, join me...it is one hell of a journey but in the end...it's worth everything.