Frogs and Ravens

Healthy Frustration

If nothing else, the primary run between Clinton and Obama has, I believe, been useful for opening dialogs among progressives about sexism, racism, and other forms of embedded privilege.

I'm not going to deny that it has been ugly.  Some "progressive" sites have proven to be anything but, instead being rabid partisans defending their candidate against all comers, as if that candidate is the second coming.  The disconnect between the means and the stated ends of getting a "progressive" (which in this case gets reduced down to "not Bush" or "not the GOP") candidate in office is shocking and brutal.

Yet it also seems to me that I'm seeing something good emerge from the fray - at least on blogs like Shakesville.  What I am seeing is a massive cluesticking of progressives about the extent of their privilege, about where their blind spots lie, and so on.  I see men being startled to realize that, yes, they are feminists.  I see straight people learning to see homophobia - and learning to respect the experience and wisdom of their GLBT allies when those allies call out homophobia that these straight progressives don't see.  And I see white people learning to admit their privilege and racist blinkers, and to listen when people of color explain what they see.

I generally think I'm pretty good on the feminism thing, and on the GLBT issues, and with issues of classism, or ageism, or fat-phobia.  I am learning, however, that I have much farther to go in terms of racism, particularly the racism that is directed towards black men and women.

The Curse of Scattershot Election Schedules

I have lived in seven different states over the course of my lifetime, in most major regions of the country.

You would think that once, just once, I'd get to vote in a primary before the Powers That Be have decided who the front runner is going to be. 

You'd think that just once I'd have the chance to vote for my preferred candidate before the media blitz encourages him to withdraw early.

You'd think, in a year that has broken many of the usual media platitudes about election strategy and forecasting, in a year that has seen a massive compression of the primary schedule, in a year where I am in one of the states that votes earlier rather than later, I'd be able to vote for "my" candidate.

I was very excited about the chance to do this for the first time in my voting life.

DEE-nied!

Again.

Damn you, American primary system!  Damn you!   *shakes fist*

Still Not Getting It

Okay, so I was over at Shakespeare's Sister the other day, reading this post about the Supreme Court, and how important it is to not let it slide further to the right.  I'm nodding my head in agreement, reading the comments thread, and then I hit this comment:

ANYONE who thinks there is no difference between the parties,

ANYONE who is tempted to waste your vote an a green candidate as a matter of principal [sic],

ANYONE who thinks Ron Paul makes sense and might be a better choice than an "establishment" candidate of wither [sic] party,. . . . .

. . . remember those three words.  [The Supreme Court]

And I just lost it.  (Obscenity-laden response below the fold.)

It's NOT the Technology, Stupid

Consider the following statements, and see if you can guess what might go in the blanks:

_____a_____ is encouraging people to be rude and selfish.

_____b_____ makes it possible for anonymous people to get away with being mean toward people they've never met.

Before _____c______ people only met each other through family networks and this sort of invasion of privacy didn't happen.

People who _____d______ have no sense of personal dignity and privacy.  They let just anyone into their lives.

Or consider these:

People who _____e______ should not be surprised when total strangers bother them.  What did they expect?

It is inevitable that if you ____f_____, bad things like are going to happen to you.  I know; they happened to me.

It's part of the nature of _____g_____ that things like anonymous attacks, rudeness, harassment, and invasion of privacy happen.  People who ______h_______ shouldn't complain; they knew this when they _____i______.

All people who ______j______ shouldn't be surprised when bad things happen; those sort of things are the point of ______k______, aren't they?

Ready for some answers?

Dog-Paddling Upstream

Recently I read an article in Orion by Janisse Ray, called "Altar Call for True Believers." In it she addresses the question of "preaching to the choir" among environmentalists, and argues that the choir is more in need of preaching than one might think. She calls for environmentalists to make more of an effort to walk their talk, to fully live their lives according the principles they espouse.

Now, I don't have much of a complaint with this argument in its general form. I agree that it's silly to suggest that people ought to use reusable bags at the grocery and switch to fluorescent bulbs when one is unwilling to do the same. These are small changes, and they add up.

But I found, by the end of the article, that my hackles were raised, and I'm trying to put a finger on why. What I've come to believe - and it's an uncomfortable belief - is that, if Janisse is correct, I am not a good environmentalist, if I am an environmentalist at all. On the heels of this belief is an even more disturbing one - faced with the possibility that my efforts are not only practically but symbolically empty, why should I bother? Why should I struggle, if nothing I do will ever be "enough"?

How to Lose a Reader

So, I'm reading this book, about nature and environment in pre-Columbian American life. It's okay, though not nearly as readable or as thought-provoking as 1491.

But then I hit this passage, on page 14, in the section describing the area around eastern Oregon and Washington (and, remember, this is supposed to depict the pre-Columbian environment, and this supposed to be a book in which ecology is a focus, and nevermind that "Wild West" is a phrase that tends to chap my shorts):

Grasses and shrubs were the most common ground cover. The landscape was littered with sagebrush that had completed its growth cycle, becoming the rolling tumbleweed so many associate with the Wild West.

ARGH!

Never-ending Nightmare

This is purely and simply terrifying.

I grow increasingly sceptical about the transformative powers of a 2008 election - if we even get to have one. These are not the actions of people who plan to leave office or give up power.

If you have a blog, please get out the word. People need to know about this.

Read This

Just go. Read it.

Female in the Outdoors Shop

I was reading this post at Twisty's - about a new all-pink airline with manicures and trips to Paris - when I was struck by something that came up in a few of the comments:

The inability of most outdoors manufacturers to understand what outdoorsy women might like.

Here's what I want:

Clothes that fit. Clothes that are durable, comfortable, and easy to care for. Clothes that do not show dirt. clothes in colors I like and that flatter me. Gear that meets the same criteria.

Basically - and why is this so hard to understand? - I want the same gear men have, altered to take into account the differences in my body shape and functions.

I do not want jackets without pockets. I do not want clothes in "melon" or "lime" or gear in "rose" or "lavender" or "clear blue". I don't want equipment that's missing an essential function because that would get in the way of it being small and cute and feminine.

I want clothing in colors like the men have: dark green, rich brown, red, navy, sage, olive, terra cotta. The reason so much of my outdoors wardrobe is black is because it seems to be the only non-pastel color (well, maybe khaki, though that may too be a pastel) that manufacturers bother to make for women. I'm trying to blend in with trees and rocks and dirt, not frolic in an air-freshener commercial.

I don't like pastels, or most clear, bright colors. They get dirty easily, and I look like I'm ill when I wear them. I prefer darker, richer colors - but, my god, do I have to fight to find them in the women's sections of outdoor catalogs and stores.

Ditto bikes, canoes, PFDs, sleeping bags, luggage, hats, gloves... wouldn't it be easier and cheaper to offer women's smaller products in the same materials and colors as the men's? The only reason I can think of that makes any sense is this: while it is okay for women to wear clothing designed for men, in men's colors (hell, most of us have been doing it for years), the converse is not true.

The girly clothes are girly-colored so that men won't accidentally buy them.

Does anyone have a better explanation?

Earth Day?

Chris Clarke has written a thought-provoking post about Earth Day this week.  The basic gist of it is that he fails to find it compelling, seeing it as a feel-good day for corporations, and arguing that celebrating our connection to the planet and its inhabitants isn't something that should be reduced to something so shallow.

I basically agree.  It's strange that something so vital to our existence and well-being is feted on one day out of 365 (or 366 in leap years) and more or less ignored by the majority during the rest of the year.  It's wrong that the event functions as a kind of bumpersticker for most, a token meant to garner social approval without sacrifice.  It's disturbing how so often Earth Day activities promote simplistic, limited, and individualist solutions (buy fluorescent bulbs!) while shying away from more radical ones, or ones which might cause discomfort to CEOs.  And yet...

I have an affection for Earth Day.  The first one took place the same year I was born, and I've felt a personal interest in it ever since.  The thing that makes Earth Day special to me is that it is one day when my beliefs and values are in the public eye, held up for praise, and celebrated by large numbers of people, openly.  The rest of the year, if I want that feeling of social relevance and community feeling, I have to search out small groups of like-minded people (surprisingly hard to do, especially offline).  Then I go home, and the tv is full of advertisements about the latest wingding, the news is ignoring the problems of water shortages and habitat destruction, politicians are filling the airwaves with dismissive rants about anti-capitalist radical environmentalists (if they mention them at all), and so on. 

If I express my love and affection for trees, I'm a loony tree-hugger.  If I admire an insect, I'm strange.  If I question the way we've been doing things, I'm anti-American.  I am told that the only way to be a patriot is to strip our lands for coal and to plant genetically modified monocrops for ethanol and to taint the desert with military tests for actions overseas to protect our oil.

In short, for 364 days out of the year (365 in leap years) I am made to feel like a freak by the dominant discourse of our society.  Is it little wonder that I cherish the small sanctuary Earth Day represents?

Of course it is not enough.  But when you are hungry, even a crumb looks pretty damn good.  I want more than a crumb, and will keep asking for more. I will continue to celebrate Earth Day in the spirit in which it is intended, until the time it is just one more day of the year, yet just as special.