Originally written: April, 2009
Time and again. It just doesn't lose it's value.
I was at a party last night of a dear friend of mine. This friend I have known since I started working in mental health at a drop-in centre downtown and I was as green as a frog. We are entirely different humans, her and I, but she makes me feel loved and cared for as a friend in a way few have.
So I'm at her party, celebrating her day of coming into this world. There are people there I am becoming acquainted with. People who clearly haven't met a lot of queer people. This is fine. There is the nice lady who looks like she should be on tv reading tarot cards late at night and maybe selling a hair product on the side. I introduce myself and upon hearing my name her smile becomes forced, but she nonetheless perseveres. She later spends most of the evening pointedly remarking on how beautiful I am. I know she's trying hard.
Then there is that particularly awkward moment in the night where my queerness becomes an opportunity for teaching, all out violence, or both. The fellow I introduced myself earlier to who had asked me, "So is that supposed to be your real name"? and scoffed with judgement which I can only presume to mean that validating my gender in relation to his must also mean admitting he might be a little gay if the lines are blurred. The kind of gaze that let's me know my likes and dislikes don't make me another human, but simply an object of freakishness and a target for violence and power-over. I keep my eye on him and my back up.
At the moment of acute drunkenness when I am sober and the parties around me are swaying like trees on a windy day in Stanley Park, I hear the utterance.. "So what, man or woman?" I ask him, "Are you talking to me?" Of course he is so drunk he can barely string two words together, yet they nonetheless manage to disturb and provoke me. He says "Yeah, what are you, man or woman?" I say "I am what I am." He repeats the question. There are obviously only two choices. I repeat my answer. I only have one.
He says "So, what are you, a hermaphrodite or something?" The drunken guy (his buddy) beside him and my other good friend go silent. I ask him why it matters? Why does he need to know? He has no answer. He says "Your voice and your body give it away", referring to the fact that my obvious masculinity must mean that I am trying hard to be something I am not and have no access to: male privilege. For educational purposes I respond that I am not trying to be anything, and that I am a "masculine person." At this point, my straight friend leans into me in a protective stance and puts her arm around me and states that I am beautiful. I appreciate it. But in this moment I am deciding whether it is better to walk away and stifle my sensitivity to tearing up, or to tear into this asshole in some sort of competition. A competition where the house ends up being destroyed and where my face will likely suffer.
I decide that my friend's celebration does not need distractions such as this. I tell the guy to drop it. His buddy agrees. "Yeah man, just let it go." He insists it's just a simple question.
The funny thing is, this is the attitude that has assumed my natural state of being and desire were unacceptable and gross since early taunts on the elementary school playground. And here I am, at 31 answering the same questions. Different playground.
I don't know if a person with such a mindset will ever get the point. My maleness does not take away from his. It does not somehow make him a "faggot" because my masculinity doesn't subscribe to womanhood and he doesn't know what to do with his gaze.
I'm meditating on how to remain peaceful in such situations and reminded that such lessons will continue to unfold across settings and time as I walk through this life.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Everyone Is Crazy
(Originally written: May, 2010)
Your boss. Your friends. Your family. The people you serve. Strangers on the street. People on TV. Politicians. Religious figures. Your partners. Your lovers. Your therapist. Yes - even YOU. Even me.
I've been having conversations and observations lately where I have come to believe that, in fact, everyone and everything is crazy. Oh, this may very well be a projection...and I am more than willing to consider that. But I think it goes beyond this. Let me explain.
What is mental illness anyways? Labels and diagnoses are transient. The most recent version of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders - the standard clinical tool used by professionals to determine if, in fact, one has flown the coop - proposes to systematically drop at least five mental disorder classifications it previously listed for the upcoming edition. And, it has created another list of new disorders, including "Hypersexual Disorder," and "Penetration Disorder."
Homosexuality was listed as a disorder until 1973, at which point it was replaced with "sexual orientation disturbance" which, despite what you might think, is in the current version of the DSM listed alongside "paraphilias" such as "transvestic fetishism" and pedophilia. Who do you think suffers most from a sexual orientation disturbance? I'll give you one guess.
What happens to those folks who were diagnosed with illnesses that are no longer listed? Have they suddenly become cured?
The history of the DSM itself is suspect, and comes with a long and controversial history of speculation on what it is exactly that qualifies someone as ill. Freud - arguably the grandfather of psychiatry, after all, believed that cocaine should be the treatment of choice for neuroses, and particularly useful as an antidepressant.
Having worked in mental health for over a decade and studied my own behaviour, the behaviour of others and the world around me, I'm not so convinced that there is such a thing as normalcy. There is not much difference between the key holder, and the one held beneath the key.
When I first started having conversations with folks who had been diagnosed with mental disorders, I had a very hard time determining what it is that makes these folks "crazy". The experiences shared, thoughts, insights, perceptions, awareness, while often different from my own - reveal an alternate reality oftentimes, but the associated behaviours are not so different from what anyone might experience. In fact, some of those 'alternate realities' are rooted in good logical sense. I once knew a fellow who could tell me intricate details of the electromagnetic grid of the earth and why certain areas were more charged than others, and what the potential impacts of this might be when walking around day to day. Though he had not done any specific research into his theories, upon brief skimming online I found that indeed, there was evidence to substantiate his "delusions."
The point is, we all have different coping strategies for dealing with the world, pain, trauma, grief, our feelings in general, relationships with others etc. Most of these strategies are things we have learned by default that get us by. It remains to be seen whether one can identify alternate strategies that provide more resiliency and less ill effects to ourselves and loved ones - while actually getting our needs met.
Everyone is crazy to some degree - the question is: How do we treat each other? I wager if we treated ourselves and those around us with more compassion, respect and kindness, the world would be a lot less crazy making.
For proposed revisions to the DSM 5 check here: http://www.dsm5.org/ProposedRevisions/Pages/proposedrevision.aspx?rid=415)
Your boss. Your friends. Your family. The people you serve. Strangers on the street. People on TV. Politicians. Religious figures. Your partners. Your lovers. Your therapist. Yes - even YOU. Even me.
I've been having conversations and observations lately where I have come to believe that, in fact, everyone and everything is crazy. Oh, this may very well be a projection...and I am more than willing to consider that. But I think it goes beyond this. Let me explain.
What is mental illness anyways? Labels and diagnoses are transient. The most recent version of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders - the standard clinical tool used by professionals to determine if, in fact, one has flown the coop - proposes to systematically drop at least five mental disorder classifications it previously listed for the upcoming edition. And, it has created another list of new disorders, including "Hypersexual Disorder," and "Penetration Disorder."
Homosexuality was listed as a disorder until 1973, at which point it was replaced with "sexual orientation disturbance" which, despite what you might think, is in the current version of the DSM listed alongside "paraphilias" such as "transvestic fetishism" and pedophilia. Who do you think suffers most from a sexual orientation disturbance? I'll give you one guess.
What happens to those folks who were diagnosed with illnesses that are no longer listed? Have they suddenly become cured?
The history of the DSM itself is suspect, and comes with a long and controversial history of speculation on what it is exactly that qualifies someone as ill. Freud - arguably the grandfather of psychiatry, after all, believed that cocaine should be the treatment of choice for neuroses, and particularly useful as an antidepressant.
Having worked in mental health for over a decade and studied my own behaviour, the behaviour of others and the world around me, I'm not so convinced that there is such a thing as normalcy. There is not much difference between the key holder, and the one held beneath the key.
When I first started having conversations with folks who had been diagnosed with mental disorders, I had a very hard time determining what it is that makes these folks "crazy". The experiences shared, thoughts, insights, perceptions, awareness, while often different from my own - reveal an alternate reality oftentimes, but the associated behaviours are not so different from what anyone might experience. In fact, some of those 'alternate realities' are rooted in good logical sense. I once knew a fellow who could tell me intricate details of the electromagnetic grid of the earth and why certain areas were more charged than others, and what the potential impacts of this might be when walking around day to day. Though he had not done any specific research into his theories, upon brief skimming online I found that indeed, there was evidence to substantiate his "delusions."
The point is, we all have different coping strategies for dealing with the world, pain, trauma, grief, our feelings in general, relationships with others etc. Most of these strategies are things we have learned by default that get us by. It remains to be seen whether one can identify alternate strategies that provide more resiliency and less ill effects to ourselves and loved ones - while actually getting our needs met.
Everyone is crazy to some degree - the question is: How do we treat each other? I wager if we treated ourselves and those around us with more compassion, respect and kindness, the world would be a lot less crazy making.
For proposed revisions to the DSM 5 check here: http://www.dsm5.org/ProposedRevisions/Pages/proposedrevision.aspx?rid=415)
How Many Frank Pauls Will It Take?
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
11:25am, 180 Augusta Ave. Toronto, ON
I am at a café with my visiting father, waiting for breakfast to be served. We are facing the window and notice a young fellow has collapsed on the sidewalk. He is sprawled on the pavement, unmoving, with legs haphazardly strewn. His head is close to the curb and his arm hangs over the street. I go outside to see what help he may need and see him seizure for a split second. He appears to be passed out from intoxication, and homeless. There is a crowd of six grown men from the butcher shop next door staring at him and laughing a few feet away. They are carrying on as if this fellow is performing for them. The owner of the café comes outside, looks at the man and lights a cigarette. I say, “He’s seizuring” and he shakes his head “No he’s not.” I observe the man and smell the scent of mouthwash several feet away.
I dial 911 for an ambulance since none of the now dozen people standing around watching in amusement seem to think there is anything wrong. Did I mention this man is Indigenous? Did I mention the crowd of onlookers is White? While I’m on the line describing the situation to the operator, I stand in front of the man and observe him in case he needs first aid. He is unconscious, breathing, hasn’t seizured since the first time. A concerned young man comes over to check the fellow’s pulse and I let him know I’m on the phone with 911. I look to my right and a woman is also on the phone with 911, I let her know I am on the line with them. She hangs up her phone and observes.
The ambulance siren approaches but it is not quite there. The man awakes and starts smashing his head into the pavement. One of the six laughing butchers - a young man, breaks away and kneels down to protect the back of the fellow’s head with his hand. He calls him by name and tells him to relax. The fellow seizures a bit. I relay the details to the operator, and tell the young man the fellow is again seizuring. He says, “No he’s not” and laughs.
Then the ambulance arrives. The two attendants come over, recognize the man and call him by name. He is unable to stand on his own but they force him, legs limp behind. One of them leaves to grab the stretcher, and the fellow dangles precariously with the remaining attendant. A fire truck pulls up, and six firefighters stroll up casually with grins on their faces. They are in no hurry. As they approach they call the man’s name, as if he’s their buddy. The man can’t form a sentence and they are all telling him to stand up. They are all White. Meanwhile, the attendant remarks again by name to the fellow, “If you could stand on your own, we’d let you go, but you can’t.” They get him on the stretcher and put him inside the van. The lady who also called 911 says “Thank-you” to me and gives me a water bottle to give to them. I do.
I had identified myself as the caller upon the ambulance’ arrival, and as soon as they saw the man, no one asked me for any further details for the rest of the intervention.
I go back inside, and wonder at the cavalier manner in which this man is treated. Two cops arrive and peer into the back of the ambulance. I go outside and talk to one of them. I say that I was the caller; that I am a mental health worker, and I ask what the plan is to deal with this fellow? What will they do with him once they take him to hospital? Will they immediately release him or connect him to services? The cop tells me I don’t know anything about this man. Why would I ask about that? I say it’s obvious he has gone through the system many times and I’m wondering what the plan is to help him, as opposed to continuing the revolving door. He tells me I don’t know what he needs. He tells me I don’t know that he’s been seen before. I don’t know that he is passed out from intoxication and has substance misuse issues.
I tell him he obviously has been through the system as every attendant and fire fighter that was here addressed the man by first name, repeatedly. The cop continues to challenge and deflect. I ask him why he is so defensive, and reiterate that the man is clearly known, and that he clearly has complex issues and needs some treatment in the form of extended stay, so again, what is the plan? The cop continues to deflect and I give up. I say “Have a good day,” throw up my hands and leave. From the very first word this officer interrogated my every statement. At some point he also made mockery of my judgment as a “Mental Health Worker.” He had started to explain that the man would “obviously receive Aboriginal services” and trailed off, and returned to attacking my every question, basically with the attitude of “What do you know? You don’t know anything. You have no business here.”
I wonder why there is such a discrepancy in the urgency and attention paid by the 911operator, and yet this officer had no interest in any discussion about this man’s welfare. The image of Frank Paul, a Mi’kmaq man in Vancouver, who was known to police and ambulance attendants, and was taken to jail intoxicated, made to crawl out of the jail cell upon becoming conscious, and led into the alley where he then died comes to mind. Is this how we treat and care for Indigenous people in this place we call our home? This place we claim as our country? Does the mostly White service system who are charged with his care think it’s simply enough to let him go, to not run any tests on him whatsoever despite knowing he was seizuring and violently banging his head on the pavement? Do they think it is okay to force a man who is barely conscious and can’t stand to do so?
Why is it that the majority of onlookers (all carrying White privilege except for the other woman who phoned 911) thought it appropriate to laugh and stand around, without one thought to call 911 or offer any assistance? Why did they continue to stand around and laugh when the ambulance came, and afterwards?
Is this how we treat Indigenous people in Canada? When we are face to face with the legacy of colonialism, residential abuse, and genocide, do we simply point at the victim, laugh, tell him to stand up straight and then toss him to the curb? The body language and lack of care shown by all the service people charged with his welfare was not even apathetic, it was nonchalant. It indicates they have written him off. They do not give a thought as to the consequences of not providing him with adequate care, or how the abandonment of their duty is yet another example of a careless, racist, victim-blaming system that laughs in the face of tragedy.
When this man dies, will they be so cavalier in their words and gestures if they face an inquiry for their participation in his death?
11:25am, 180 Augusta Ave. Toronto, ON
I am at a café with my visiting father, waiting for breakfast to be served. We are facing the window and notice a young fellow has collapsed on the sidewalk. He is sprawled on the pavement, unmoving, with legs haphazardly strewn. His head is close to the curb and his arm hangs over the street. I go outside to see what help he may need and see him seizure for a split second. He appears to be passed out from intoxication, and homeless. There is a crowd of six grown men from the butcher shop next door staring at him and laughing a few feet away. They are carrying on as if this fellow is performing for them. The owner of the café comes outside, looks at the man and lights a cigarette. I say, “He’s seizuring” and he shakes his head “No he’s not.” I observe the man and smell the scent of mouthwash several feet away.
I dial 911 for an ambulance since none of the now dozen people standing around watching in amusement seem to think there is anything wrong. Did I mention this man is Indigenous? Did I mention the crowd of onlookers is White? While I’m on the line describing the situation to the operator, I stand in front of the man and observe him in case he needs first aid. He is unconscious, breathing, hasn’t seizured since the first time. A concerned young man comes over to check the fellow’s pulse and I let him know I’m on the phone with 911. I look to my right and a woman is also on the phone with 911, I let her know I am on the line with them. She hangs up her phone and observes.
The ambulance siren approaches but it is not quite there. The man awakes and starts smashing his head into the pavement. One of the six laughing butchers - a young man, breaks away and kneels down to protect the back of the fellow’s head with his hand. He calls him by name and tells him to relax. The fellow seizures a bit. I relay the details to the operator, and tell the young man the fellow is again seizuring. He says, “No he’s not” and laughs.
Then the ambulance arrives. The two attendants come over, recognize the man and call him by name. He is unable to stand on his own but they force him, legs limp behind. One of them leaves to grab the stretcher, and the fellow dangles precariously with the remaining attendant. A fire truck pulls up, and six firefighters stroll up casually with grins on their faces. They are in no hurry. As they approach they call the man’s name, as if he’s their buddy. The man can’t form a sentence and they are all telling him to stand up. They are all White. Meanwhile, the attendant remarks again by name to the fellow, “If you could stand on your own, we’d let you go, but you can’t.” They get him on the stretcher and put him inside the van. The lady who also called 911 says “Thank-you” to me and gives me a water bottle to give to them. I do.
I had identified myself as the caller upon the ambulance’ arrival, and as soon as they saw the man, no one asked me for any further details for the rest of the intervention.
I go back inside, and wonder at the cavalier manner in which this man is treated. Two cops arrive and peer into the back of the ambulance. I go outside and talk to one of them. I say that I was the caller; that I am a mental health worker, and I ask what the plan is to deal with this fellow? What will they do with him once they take him to hospital? Will they immediately release him or connect him to services? The cop tells me I don’t know anything about this man. Why would I ask about that? I say it’s obvious he has gone through the system many times and I’m wondering what the plan is to help him, as opposed to continuing the revolving door. He tells me I don’t know what he needs. He tells me I don’t know that he’s been seen before. I don’t know that he is passed out from intoxication and has substance misuse issues.
I tell him he obviously has been through the system as every attendant and fire fighter that was here addressed the man by first name, repeatedly. The cop continues to challenge and deflect. I ask him why he is so defensive, and reiterate that the man is clearly known, and that he clearly has complex issues and needs some treatment in the form of extended stay, so again, what is the plan? The cop continues to deflect and I give up. I say “Have a good day,” throw up my hands and leave. From the very first word this officer interrogated my every statement. At some point he also made mockery of my judgment as a “Mental Health Worker.” He had started to explain that the man would “obviously receive Aboriginal services” and trailed off, and returned to attacking my every question, basically with the attitude of “What do you know? You don’t know anything. You have no business here.”
I wonder why there is such a discrepancy in the urgency and attention paid by the 911operator, and yet this officer had no interest in any discussion about this man’s welfare. The image of Frank Paul, a Mi’kmaq man in Vancouver, who was known to police and ambulance attendants, and was taken to jail intoxicated, made to crawl out of the jail cell upon becoming conscious, and led into the alley where he then died comes to mind. Is this how we treat and care for Indigenous people in this place we call our home? This place we claim as our country? Does the mostly White service system who are charged with his care think it’s simply enough to let him go, to not run any tests on him whatsoever despite knowing he was seizuring and violently banging his head on the pavement? Do they think it is okay to force a man who is barely conscious and can’t stand to do so?
Why is it that the majority of onlookers (all carrying White privilege except for the other woman who phoned 911) thought it appropriate to laugh and stand around, without one thought to call 911 or offer any assistance? Why did they continue to stand around and laugh when the ambulance came, and afterwards?
Is this how we treat Indigenous people in Canada? When we are face to face with the legacy of colonialism, residential abuse, and genocide, do we simply point at the victim, laugh, tell him to stand up straight and then toss him to the curb? The body language and lack of care shown by all the service people charged with his welfare was not even apathetic, it was nonchalant. It indicates they have written him off. They do not give a thought as to the consequences of not providing him with adequate care, or how the abandonment of their duty is yet another example of a careless, racist, victim-blaming system that laughs in the face of tragedy.
When this man dies, will they be so cavalier in their words and gestures if they face an inquiry for their participation in his death?
The (In)Visibility of Mental 'Illness'
(Originally written: October, 2010)
As we work in our communities and relate to our loved ones - particularly those of us who identify as socially conscious and who are pursuing social justice ideals - there is an area of awareness that seems very lacking and it is around mental health issues. I am speaking of the day to day barriers that can be experienced by folks who have mental health challenges, and the assumptions we all hold in our daily interactions, and in the type of community work we do.
The issue of course is complex, and reflective of a lack of education around mental health in general, and the fact that we all have it; we all manage it – whether we are aware of it or not. Our awareness of mental health issues, or lack thereof, goes hand in hand with societal expectations of normalcy around cognitive functioning, how we view intelligence, social competence, affect/emotion regulation, and especially what we deem to be socially appropriate interpersonal behaviour. There is much stigma around issues of mental health and behavioural challenges, without any thought being given to the framing of mental illness as an invisible disability.
Much of the popular discourse hones in on mental health issues as belonging to serial killers and psychopaths and leaves much to be desired in terms of relaying actual facts. What’s more, social determinants of health are often ignored and instead derogatory language such as ‘bums’ freely used to describe what are often folks who have slipped through the service system and may have precarious mental health. Even amongst so-called professionals who work in systems focussing on the treatment of mental illness, many stereotypes and a general lack of understanding prevail.
If you look around your friends, family and community, what do you know about mental health challenges? What do you know about access to resources for folks who may have them? Did you know that it is often much harder to qualify for things like disability status due to the focus on physiological centered notions of disability? Based on the criteria for meeting disability status, disabilities of the regulation of emotions and behaviour, as well as ability to cope are minimized and obscured. As well, folks who struggle with concurrent substance use issues are subject to even more stigma, denial of, and lack of resources.
But what does it look like to have mental health issues? Can you tell me if you would know, if a friend of yours was suffering from depression, for example? If you are doing activist community work and you are trying to hold others accountable for the work they do, are you making assumptions about their mental health based on notions of functionality? People you know, love and work with may be struggling with mental health issues on a daily basis without your awareness. You might not even notice if they make allusions to what most certainly is a very private, hidden battle in many cases due to the aforementioned stigma involved and the pressure to conform to ideals of normal functioning and relating.
The fact is, mental health is invisible. Unless you make an effort to see past your own assumptions around normalcy, emotional functioning and behaviour, you likely wouldn’t know what mental health barriers folks are challenged with. Folks in our community who hold full time jobs, help others, participate in organizing, who have many friends and loved ones, engage in life in many different beautiful ways might be dealing with a very private struggle around anxiety, depression, bi-polar, interpersonal relationships and coping strategies, substance misuse, or complex post traumatic stress, for example.
We just don’t know. But, if we pay attention to our own assumptions around functioning; if we start to tackle our own notions of mental health and illness – if we start to see others not for how they present, but for the complex beings which we all are, we might begin to provide a safer environment for folks to talk about their struggles, and provide comfort, support and acceptance. We may provide a more compassionate community setting in which we recognize the invisibility of mental health challenges and consider this in our anti-oppressive work.
And we may realize that there is no such thing as a ‘crazy’ person.
As we work in our communities and relate to our loved ones - particularly those of us who identify as socially conscious and who are pursuing social justice ideals - there is an area of awareness that seems very lacking and it is around mental health issues. I am speaking of the day to day barriers that can be experienced by folks who have mental health challenges, and the assumptions we all hold in our daily interactions, and in the type of community work we do.
The issue of course is complex, and reflective of a lack of education around mental health in general, and the fact that we all have it; we all manage it – whether we are aware of it or not. Our awareness of mental health issues, or lack thereof, goes hand in hand with societal expectations of normalcy around cognitive functioning, how we view intelligence, social competence, affect/emotion regulation, and especially what we deem to be socially appropriate interpersonal behaviour. There is much stigma around issues of mental health and behavioural challenges, without any thought being given to the framing of mental illness as an invisible disability.
Much of the popular discourse hones in on mental health issues as belonging to serial killers and psychopaths and leaves much to be desired in terms of relaying actual facts. What’s more, social determinants of health are often ignored and instead derogatory language such as ‘bums’ freely used to describe what are often folks who have slipped through the service system and may have precarious mental health. Even amongst so-called professionals who work in systems focussing on the treatment of mental illness, many stereotypes and a general lack of understanding prevail.
If you look around your friends, family and community, what do you know about mental health challenges? What do you know about access to resources for folks who may have them? Did you know that it is often much harder to qualify for things like disability status due to the focus on physiological centered notions of disability? Based on the criteria for meeting disability status, disabilities of the regulation of emotions and behaviour, as well as ability to cope are minimized and obscured. As well, folks who struggle with concurrent substance use issues are subject to even more stigma, denial of, and lack of resources.
But what does it look like to have mental health issues? Can you tell me if you would know, if a friend of yours was suffering from depression, for example? If you are doing activist community work and you are trying to hold others accountable for the work they do, are you making assumptions about their mental health based on notions of functionality? People you know, love and work with may be struggling with mental health issues on a daily basis without your awareness. You might not even notice if they make allusions to what most certainly is a very private, hidden battle in many cases due to the aforementioned stigma involved and the pressure to conform to ideals of normal functioning and relating.
The fact is, mental health is invisible. Unless you make an effort to see past your own assumptions around normalcy, emotional functioning and behaviour, you likely wouldn’t know what mental health barriers folks are challenged with. Folks in our community who hold full time jobs, help others, participate in organizing, who have many friends and loved ones, engage in life in many different beautiful ways might be dealing with a very private struggle around anxiety, depression, bi-polar, interpersonal relationships and coping strategies, substance misuse, or complex post traumatic stress, for example.
We just don’t know. But, if we pay attention to our own assumptions around functioning; if we start to tackle our own notions of mental health and illness – if we start to see others not for how they present, but for the complex beings which we all are, we might begin to provide a safer environment for folks to talk about their struggles, and provide comfort, support and acceptance. We may provide a more compassionate community setting in which we recognize the invisibility of mental health challenges and consider this in our anti-oppressive work.
And we may realize that there is no such thing as a ‘crazy’ person.
"Kid Gloves"
My lips pursed
She asked for a light,
Her candle was burnt out
She had dug a hole
In the cellar of her mind,
Where jars of pickled vegetables lay
The movements which had been uncovered,
Danced as aged shadows in their former homes
A reminder of my twelve year old hands.
She asked for a light,
Her candle was burnt out
She had dug a hole
In the cellar of her mind,
Where jars of pickled vegetables lay
The movements which had been uncovered,
Danced as aged shadows in their former homes
A reminder of my twelve year old hands.
masculine centred feminists and decent ppl
-do not feel easily threatened by others, esp. women & other masculine id'd peeps
- do not compete with other masculine peeps
- do not need to control others by judging and scrutinizing every minute action
- know when to use their voices and do so sparingly and supportively
- have a strong commitment to learning and reflexivity and are open to feedback
- are not rigid
- treat others with sacred respect for physical, mental and emotional well being
- are emotionally available and open
- seek out reciprocal and giving relationships with others
- respect others', esp. women's autonomy and agency and do not unconsensually dominate
- avoid essentializing and minimizing
- believe in building community and accountability
- are committed to working through their own trauma, not out onto others
.... feel free to add more :)
- do not compete with other masculine peeps
- do not need to control others by judging and scrutinizing every minute action
- know when to use their voices and do so sparingly and supportively
- have a strong commitment to learning and reflexivity and are open to feedback
- are not rigid
- treat others with sacred respect for physical, mental and emotional well being
- are emotionally available and open
- seek out reciprocal and giving relationships with others
- respect others', esp. women's autonomy and agency and do not unconsensually dominate
- avoid essentializing and minimizing
- believe in building community and accountability
- are committed to working through their own trauma, not out onto others
.... feel free to add more :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)