The Naked Truth: Continuing a Discussion on Anger

[Trigger warning for racial microaggressions]

So I went to this event at my alma mater this past weekend called the Naked Truth on Stereotypes. I had a lot of thoughts about the event and the presentation, but I'll save that for another time and just say congrats to the cast for doing a good job.

I did want to discuss something that happened during/after the event however. During the discussion portion at the end of the event, a person asked why everyone was so angry and why so many of the stories up on stage featured anger as strongly as they did. 

The cast and folks with Social HeArtistry did a wonderful job answering the question and redirecting, but after the show this person was having a conversation with my friend and seemed pretty upset at the idea of anger and how showcasing frustration at stereotypes can reinforce those stereotypes of being an angry person of color and even went so far as to ask how in its net cultural impact this anger was any different than the angry preachers spewing hate in the public square every spring. 

This of course was a huge red flag for me, and I understand the nuance that anger by itself is unproductive and you can't just get angry and yell, but that's in itself an unfair comparison. bell hooks talks about how anger is often a necessary tool toward creating change and how accusations of anger are often a tool to silence people. Denial of anger is often a tool to pacify and appease the ruling classes into accepting the marginalized (see specifically, black voices), but doing so at the expense of those further in the margins and the reality of the inequalities that exist to keep them marginalized (and justifiably angry).

I don't believe that's exactly the case here, but it is relevant to the larger discussion. Anger is a necessary starting point. But you have to do something with that anger that if you want to see change. 

That's why TNTS had a discussion at the end of the event, to unpack the anger on stage and talk about next steps in creating and sustaining a community that won't allow these racialized aggressions to be normalized. That's part of what my opening quote is missing: you can be angry out of love (be it love for yourself or your community) and through those two feelings demand that oppression stop. But the anger and hate of racist and homophobic preachers is not the same as the anger of oppressed people. One is backed up by a fucked up society that has a longstanding history of voicing those same hatreds. The other is frustration with the effects those hatreds have on people's everyday lives.

TNTS is an exaggeration. It presents the stereotypes faced by marginalized groups in a stark, not every stereotype that each performer talked about was a direct quote of some fucked up thing said to them every day. They don't need to be, because even being faced with those kind of intrusive, ignorant questions once is more than enough to be angry. They don't even have to be directed at you so much as merely at someone like you for them to hold true as symptoms of the toxic and ignorant environment most of our society is for people of color.That's what frustrated me, it doesn't matter if the stories up on stage were everyday lived experiences, not when the media and our classes and casual "innocent" comments perpetuate the same thing with impunity. 

Yes, people start from a place of ignorance, and many microaggressions come from a well-meaning place, but we cannot equate ignorance to innocence when toxic messages limit people's ability to grow and change. There's a phrase that's been going around a lot, that "intent means nothing in the face of impact" and this especially holds true when the impact creates a harmful environment. 

This situation is one where the intent of venting long-held frustrations is being outright ignored in favor of the impact that some people (meaning those with privilege, be it racial, class or otherwise) might be turned off by the anger they've been sheltered from. But if the intent of a privileged person entering a space like TNTS is to learn, why are they not learning? Why are they not listening to the message behind the anger? I often hear the idea that education is a two-way street and the voices of the oppressed need to meet the ignorant where they're at. While this is valid, a two-way street does not mean equal when one side as a collective often walks the other direction when you approach them. 

That's one of the distinctions that makes discussions around power and privilege difficult, that makes this post difficult for me to write: often there's a disconnect between privileged folk and marginalized folk where the responsibility of learning is so disconnected from the content of the discussion that you could almost say there are two overlapping conversations happening at the same time. One being a dialogue within the strictures of the dominant social narrative and the other more a monologue resisting and criticizing the dominant narrative that's attempting to reframe the discussion and asking that you not respond, in privilege our voices don't matter.

On an academic, ideological level, I understand the resistance to this reframing. It's threatening and it closes off discussion in the traditional sense. Discussions not based in the rhetoric of logic and rational thought (i.e. those of the kind of passion/anger I talk about above) are often criticized for seeking to be above criticism because they refuse the voice of traditional ideas of argumentation. Undoubtedly in talks about race and feminist thought especially it will come up in comments. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, it's true, these discussions are not above criticism, but often times such criticisms based in rationalism are framed and worded in ways that invalidate lived experience.

While the larger theoretical discussion between privilege and oppression might create illogical and seemingly unfair asks when the oppressed push back, I think a lot of that theoretical thought loses some of its footing when the reality of lived experience (usually anecdotal, but so reoccurring that to deny it would be its own fallacy) is so overwhelming. It's hard to take criticism when it essentially says "the way you're describing reality is subjective and therefore wrong." I don't have a way to reconcile this, or even know if I'm describing what I'm trying to describe accurately because there's so much going on.

Thoughts, reflections, counterpoints, examples all welcome.

Feedback

Today I want to talk about Feedback. No, not the someone-with-a-microphone-stepped-too-close-to-the-amp kind of feedback, but what does it mean to give feedback? To receive feedback? I've also just missed blogging.

Tied into this for me are issues of privilege and varying levels of experience because when someone approaches you for feedback, that often means you're in a position of authority. You're a teacher, coach, expert in your field, or just generally someone that someone else decided they respect the opinion of. It is a matter of privilege because this often means as a person with authority you have increased access to resources. You are better networked, your education is likely further along.

Conversely, at other times, feedback is a matter between peers and it's important to treat these two different kinds of feedback differently.

As feedback from an authority figure, you have power. Your privilege as an authority figure means your reaction carries more weight. Think about receiving a paper or homework assignment back from your teacher and having it covered in red pen. As a culturally common practice, it creates such a visceral reaction that a lot of upcoming teachers are taught not to use red pens when grading.

As such, giving feedback means balancing the objective qualities that you're giving feedback on (your rubric if I may continue the education analogy) and the subjective qualities of meeting the person you're giving feedback where they're at. You wouldn't grade a kindergartner on the same rubric you would a college student.

This of course works in formal situations where you have some kind of quality scale to refer back to.

Does Danny come in to work on time? Yes, and he's usually early? Circle 4 for exceeds expectations.

Did this essay satisfy all aspect of the prompt and do so with evidence of a grade-appropriate writing capability? B+ good job.

Of course, this starts to fall apart once we give feedback on things that are a lot less objective.

Did you like reading my blog post? Well, I found the informal tone somewhat insulting and unprofessional and your choice of topic was uninteresting at best.

What did you think of this poem I wrote? I thought it amateurish at best, the kind of thing you'd find in a high school creative writing class.

These are extremely harsh, critical examples, but equally as stunting and unproductive as blindly saying "I loved it!"

If the goal of feedback is to foster growth, even if it is meant to redirect or change course, then the emphasis must remain on that growth. Specific, concrete problems that can be addressed and worked on.

Three seat, sit up straight in the boat. You might want to work on memorizing your lines better next time you're in a play. Your metaphors don't seem like they have a specific point because I'm not seeing the thesis of what you're trying to say, make that clearer.

When it comes down to it, if there isn't a set standard for what is or isn't "good" some of the best feedback you can give is to ask questions about what you like/don't like/are confused by.

And in receiving such feedback, you're also asking yourself questions in addition to attempting to answer the ones posed to you. Why isn't this working? How was I unclear? Am I doing what i was told was correct?

Because feedback is part of a dialogue, but it only works if both parties are focused on the same end goal: the continued moving forward and growth of the original project.

So... feedback anyone?

On oranges and other things

I used to hate oranges. In particular, I hated the satsuma oranges my mother would hand me during that time between Christmas and New Year's saying it was for good luck. It was the little bits of pith hiding between the segments that did it for me, those little white bits clinging to the sweet, juicy flesh disgusted me. I've since gotten over that. Perhaps I've gotten used to the bitterness.

I spent most of my day working on making mochi. It's the greenish blog in my hand next to the orange. I don't really know why.

Mochi is just another one of those things you eat around the new year. It reminds me of going to one of the Asian market in Seattle with my grandmother, and after she died, visiting my Grandpa Harry and raiding the freezer for the pack he inevitably had stowed away. They were usually a little stale in their vacuum plastic and gallon-sized Ziploc bag, but that didn't stop my brother and I: the soft, sweet dough always a treat no matter how fresh or old.

I don't know why I made some instead of just buying some. If I spent as much time work out or reading as I do in the kitchen, well I wouldn't be nearly as good at cooking.

And as I sit here on New Year's Day, a satsuma on one side of my keyboard and a plate full of mochi on the other, I wonder about good luck. I miss my grandparents a little bit more and a little it less. I'm reminded of how I've internalized what vestiges of my Japanese heritage that have permeated my suburban upbringing.

I'm thankful for that.

Two Thousand Pounds Per Square Inch

In case you missed the sheer abundance of posts to your social networks about HIV/AIDS, December 1st was World AIDS Day. Obama pledged up to $5 billions dollars to the Global Fund to Fight AIDS the next (business) day. Memorial services were held around the world.

All of which leads me to... the real story, about The Real Story Safe Sex Project, or rather, my review of a story that is part of the the RSSSP.

As you may recall, Geography Club was a slightly contested YA novel released in 2003 that got banned by a local school in the author's home town in 2005 when a parent complained. It went on to win or be-nominated for the kind of coming-of-age teen novel type of awards that these books get nominated for. Even though nobody except teachers, librarians and the people being nominated followed those awards closely. It was the kind of book that would have caught the eye of any gay male student in middle school or high school walking through the bookstore or library.

Intentionally or not, they saw the the interesting name with it's bright green handwriting on poster-white, and they picked it up. They flipped it over and came face-to-face with something that set their teenage hearts aflutter: Eyes staring at them through glass.. The eyes that were just as bored and tired and locked up by school as they felt their life to be, but also, like them in other ways. *ching went the gaydar* And they looked around to see if anyone else noticed the shock and adrenaline running through their system as they very calmly, very nonchalantly lifted the cover in their hand.

But it was too good to be true.

Russel Middlebrook is convinced he’s the only gay kid at Robert L. Goodkind High School. Then his online gay-chat buddy turns out to be none other than Kevin, the popular but closeted star of the school’s baseball team. Soon Russel meets other gay students too...

 For those of us gay male millenials that were readers, this was how we found Geography Club. Just before or just after we came out ourselves.

This was how we were introduced to Seattle native Brent Hartinger.

Two Thousand Pounds Per Square Inch by Hartinger continues the story of Geography Club's Russel Middlebrook right where we left off when we forgot about the sequel and prolific side-project. While we've been away, Russell has been growing up with us.

He's been having other adventures and other perspectives that we might have missed while starting our own gay (and sometimes eventually queer) lives at college.

And in this brief short story, released free on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and otherwise available. we we find him in the same, predictably and embarrassingly uncomfortable situations that we hoped never to be caught in. It's wonderfully NSFW, and appeals to our new-found sense of irony that it reads like a PSA with all the details and facts of every comprehensive sex education pamplet we read when we volunteerer in our community. After all, we were the bookish-type who read everything we could about sex before we ever had it.

It's embarrassing. It's titillating. And in many cases when we remember the news stories and remember our younger siblings trailing just behind Russell, the oblivious would-could-maybe-already-are statistics we were working to ensure would be the last to grow up with the same abstinence only ignorance we experienced. We think about them and it's probably making us feel a little guilty when we think about practicing what we preach. And that's how TTPPSI surprises us: by still addressing us.

The disclaimer at the end reminds us we've read the same news articles that both gave us hope and made us lax when deep down we know every we just read is true. We've just been lectured at by "Brent" not to be confused with Brent even though we know his all-too-obvious stand-in nature means that it really is Brent lecturing us because he knows we'll smile sheepishly before spreading it like wildfire.

Because he also knows we'll know he wants us to, so those could-be statistics will get this sooner and take one more step with Russell before taking our place.

On another note, it's also great timing because it was released for free as part of The Real Life Story Safe Sex Project's first wave of stories right in time for Geography Club's movie (IMDB) was being released for limited runs in theaters.



And it got some good reviews, so hopefully it'll get wide enough distribution so we can relive Russell's drama again.

This is a riot? More like a call to action.

If by some chance you haven't heard about the "riot" that occurred last night, here's a video and news article.

Small warning: the video can get kind of intense. Watch with care.



I've seen a lot of Facebook posts by friends saying that they are ashamed that Western students would act this way, that rioting for the sake of rioting is a disgrace, or that inciting a riot because your party got broken up is little better than a temper tantrum of idiotic proportions, that this is an example of privileged kids (because let's not give them the dignity of calling them adults) harming our community.

And I agree with most of these.

The way people are acting in this video is completely irrational and disproportional to the instigating events, and for those of us who have been continually civically engaged, organizing and/or marching in protests or lobbying down in Olympia for actual causes, I can see how this is upsetting. Where is this anger when we're fighting for something bigger than ourselves? Where is this collective mentality to fight the power when the power is actually taking something away from us? What concerns me most about the events last night is how it will affect relations between BPD and legitimate protests. Will events like Take Back the Night, a march and rally against violence in the streets, be possible if the irresponsible actions shown disrupted relations between the university and the police?

But stepping off the soapbox for a moment, I think that what transpired last night is symptomatic of something larger. In the last few years with the rise and fall of the Occupy movement and Kony 2012 and the Arab Spring and everything that happened in Texas this summer and the results of the Zimmerman trial, we live in a time of protest, where protests and riots have become a media-covered norm in the background radiation of our lives.

Additionally, with rising cost of tuition across the country and across the state, the demographics at Western are changing as well. I've heard many a comment about "how much broier" my school has gotten as it has increasingly become one of the only viable schools available to students graduating from high school in a poor economy and face with the supposed necessity of a college degree. This makes Western increasingly white and privileged which would support a culture and mentality that encourages such "riots" without cause.

Most of us are dissatisfied with the status quo. We were promised change and while much has happened, it often feels like we've taken two steps forward and three steps back.

With each passing day the feeling that we are volatile and waiting for the right (or wrong) trigger to set us off increases ever so slightly. So while I disagree with what happened and think it's irresponsible, it's a harbinger of potential things to come.

Which leads me to my final point, a call to action among my peers. If the events last night upset you, if they make you ashamed to be a Viking, if they make you concerned about the Bellingham community we know and love, do something about it.

If it is in your ability to do so, harness this energy, this anger. Rather than railing against the apathy of your fellow students, push them to do better. Let them know about the opportunities to be involved, to serve our community and make it better. Organize legitimate protests and invite these cause-less rioters to march with you. Tell everyone you know to vote in the local elections. In short, keep doing all the awesome activist heArtwork we've been doing.

If you work for the Associated Students, hold events that address topics of oppression. If you run a club, make that club relevant to current events in whatever tiny ways seem applicable. Start an educational campaign to teach people ways to get involved. Ask your professors if they can make community service a requirement of a class.

I know it's frustrating. I know it's hard. And statistically, numbers aren't on our side. Outreach to populations that have no strong attachments can feel like pulling teeth, it's drawn out and painful, but in the end it's for their own good.

So keep doing what you're doing, keep leading by example, and maybe these so-called rioters will find something useful to do.

[edit] Here's another perspective from my friend Robert.