"Honoring" the legacy...

Below is the letter that I wrote to Ms. Anne Marie Gurney, Vice Chair of the Multnomah County Republicans.  

January 18, 2014

Dear Ms. Gurney,

Hello, my name is Monica Wilson and we spoke earlier this week on the telephone.  To refresh your memory, I was born and raised in Portland and I am graduate of Portland State University with a double major in Political Science and Liberal Studies (focusing on Conflict Resolution and Sociology) with a minor in Civic Leadership.  Most importantly I am invested in keeping Portland as a great place to live.  I believe that we both love this city and act in ways that we hope will benefit our communities.  As I mentioned during our conversation, I think it’s important to value the leaders who have contributed to our country’s greatness.  You and the Multnomah County Republicans (MCR) may believe that you are honoring the legacy of one of the most visibly influential leaders of the civil rights movement, Dr. Reverend Martin Luther King Jr., by raffling an AR-15 or other handgun at the upcoming Lincoln Day dinner, but I urge you to reconsider.  You have the unique opportunity, in updating your purpose in the raffle, to show that the Multnomah County Republicans are responsive to the voices of a diverse community that is offended and hurt by this sort of “celebration.”  I am not sure if you are aware, but at present this raffle is easily understood as mocking the legacy of the late Doctor rather than actually bestowing honor.

There are a plethora of celebrations and activities each year on and around the holiday that commemorates Dr. King’s life and accomplishments.  As a national day of service many people volunteer in their communities, others attend lectures and participate in conversations about race, diversity and equity.  While researching your organizations event I learned that some people prefer to practice their noose tying skills and buy confederate flags while others sag their pants and wear gold chains. This raffle provides both fuel and a forum for hate groups such as Stormfront (a white supremacy group) whose web page was listed before MCR’s in a google search. 

It is not a sign of respect to honor a man in ways that are contrary to his life’s purpose.  Dr. King‘s legacy was not only practicing the doctrine of non-violence, but asking others to risk their lives and physical safety to do the same.  This raffle is completely disrespectful of Dr. King and as local leaders I know you can do better.  Again, I encourage you to reconsider using the raffle to honor Dr. King. 

On November 17^th Mr. Patrick Henry wrote a blog for MCR’s website reflecting on a keynote speech by Mr. Joseph Phillips at Portland State University.  The blog explores some of the dynamics that accompany African American communities and the struggles faced by African American conservatives.  Coverage of this event, paired with the larger national conversation regarding the changing demographics of the Republican Party and conservative ideologues, indicates that conservative leaders are purposefully cultivating an understanding of the need for a space that welcomes people of color.  I ask you to consider how this raffle impacts the perception of the Multnomah County Republicans by both the African American community and other people of color in the area who look to the political leaders in our city and region to lead with integrity.  While I do not doubt that your intentions, as well as the intentions of MRC, are in the right place, I implore you to consider the impact on those who have a strong understanding of Dr. King’s actual non-partisan politics, as well as those who hold Dr. King as the pivotal figure that ushered in a new era of race relations in this country and abroad, and their inclusion in your organization. 

What I am asking of you, Ms. Gurney, and the Multnomah County Republicans, is very simple: please remove the language on your website and all other promotional materials promoting the raffle of weaponry as a tribute to Dr. Reverend Martin Luther King Jr.   I would be happy to help your organization reflect on, plan and organize a more appropriate and inclusive event to show respect to this American hero. 

I appreciate your time.

Best,

Monica Wilson

Beyond "No Means No"

If you are anything like me, and maybe you're not, you've been reading "too much" about the Steubenville rape verdict/situation.  The day that the verdict was handed down I stayed up late, not because I wanted to, but because I couldn't fall asleep.  I felt sad, really sad, and really angry.  I felt angry, like so many others, at all of the major media outlets for all of the egregious offenses they had committed that day in reporting on the "story," like naming the survivor and focusing on how the perpetrators of the crime would be impacted by the verdict.  But I was also angry at all of the reactions I had read, written by well meaning folks that wished for harsher sentencing and spewed general hatred for the perpetrators, angry at all of the folks who equated justice to jail time and made big assumptions about how sorry the perpetrators were without  actually knowing them.  I know that opinions are like assholes, but assumptions aren't any better.  And we can do better.

I'm no expert on the criminal justice system, but it's fair to say that most people would agree it doesn't really work.  People know the system of punishment that is in place to deal with crime, but they still commit crimes, every day.  Some people get caught, some people don't.  Some people commit crimes after they've been caught and released, some people don't, but most do.  We talk about being tough on crime and we talk about law and order and we talk about justice.  But you know what?  No matter how long a person sets in a jail cell, no matter how many people die from lethal injections, electric chairs or hangings, no matter how many people are put on parole or probation, justice still isn't served.  Justice isn't the same as vengeance, and it's time that we acknowledge that.  Justice comes in the form of making amends and accepting accountability.  I don't see how sitting in a room eating up state and federal dollars can accomplish that.  I don't see how being treated like a caged animal and working for less than minimum wage accomplishes that.  I don't see how being removed from society and being socialized as a criminal accomplishes that.  I think, if we tried, we could come up with better ways.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't have a whole lot of patience for perpetrators of physical or sexual violence.  And by that, I mean I have no patience at all.  But there should be a significant difference between my individual feelings and the structure of the institutions that we use to deal with issues of crime and justice.  I know a person who has been a perpetrator of sexual violence, and I would like nothing more than to see him locked up forever.  If I was honest I'd say that I would like nothing more to put a bullet through his skull.  I don't know if he is typical or not, but I can also say that he is a person who has shown no remorse at all and has never worked to make amends, or even apologize for his wrongs.  His family and social network has accommodated this.  But what if that wasn't true?  What if his family had instead shown kindness and concern for those who survived his attacks, and worked with them to heal?  What if his friends had said, dude, not cool, you gotta get right.  And then worked with him to heal as well?  And what if the criminal justice system had provided counseling and opportunities for guided mediation and healing on the survivors terms?  Had any of those things happened, I might be able to stand the sight of him.  But it hasn't.  And as things stand now, they aren't likely to happen in the future.  So we are relegated to punishment instead of justice, and for no good reason at all.

So I guess we can't really help rapists not rape and we can't really help survivors heal, because that would take too much work right?  I mean, prison is no deterrent from making people into harder "criminals," right?  Rape never happens there, right?  And the service providers to survivors of rape?  Underfunded organizations that rely on volunteers to deal with the trauma is what we have.  Underpaid and volunteer advocates that suffer the effects of  vicarious trauma from the stories they hear.  And that is assuming that a woman reports her rape or seeks out support.  Which isn't terribly likely.  I know the kinds of women, and actual women, who do this kind of work.  For a short period of time I was one of them. We are the  kind of women who are labeled as feminazi's, dykes, bitches and man-haters.  But then again, the women who are raped are labeled as sluts, whores, bitches, drunk and easy.  I'm seeing a pattern here.  Are you?  What do we call perpetrators of sexual violence?  Rapists.  I can't think of any other words.


But what about prevention?  Can we work toward prevention?  Can we talk about female sexuality and pleasure in a way that isn't shaming?  Can we have men and politicians and institutions respect us as women?  And yes, that includes making our own choices, and not just the choice about whether or not to have abortions.  It means respecting our choices about sex and who we have sex with, and the kinds of sex we do and don't like to have. It means respecting our choices about family, social networks, our style of dress, the work we do and our rights to self determination.  Respecting our right to say no but also our right to say yes, to be assertive and angry and happy and sad and powerful.  Respecting our unique qualities that make us who we are, as equals rather than your mothers or sisters or wives or girlfriends. It means giving little girls options beyond barbie, polly pocket and cabbage patch dolls.  It also means giving little boys options beyond war games and sports and can include barbie, polly pocket and cabbage patch dolls.  It means talking to children about sex and safety and the differences between secrets and surprises.  It means talking to girls about masturbation and pleasure and orgasms, it means having a steady stream of dialogue about sex instead of one big awkward sex talk after it's too late.  Because kids with IPods, laptops, cell phones, and friends have the opportunity to see porn before you can talk to them about penises and vaginas, and by that time ideas about pleasure, pain, slut-shaming, power, and body image have already set in.  And part of this conversation, a significant part of this conversation, has to do with consent, and understanding what that looks like.  While it is so important for young men to know the importance of asking, it is even more important that young women know how to answer authentically.  Sometimes that answer will be no, but sometimes it will be yes.  How young people will deal with the responsibilities that accompany these answers is largely up to their preparation, and the best prep will start at home.  

But that's a lot to ask right?  That we are honest with young people and prepare them for the realities of being a teenager or young adult.  It might feel weird.  You don't want to encourage them to do this or to do that?  I made many decisions about my sexuality as a young person, decisions I made with very little information that I sought out on my own.  But I also watched my uncle die of AIDS as a young teenager, and that taught me safety above all else.  And I watched my mother struggle through years of poverty, impacted by the reality that she was a mother at 19.  Because I saw the truth, I was able to make decisions that made sense for me, and for the most part that decision was to wait.  And not because it was right by God, or right by the rules, but because it was right by me.   

I spent plenty of time as a teenage girl being drunk, but I set rules for myself that I didn't bend and they were intended to keep me reasonably safe.  When I say drunk, I mean really drunk.  Puking drunk, blackout drunk, sloppy fucking drunk.  There was never a single time that it would have made sex, or any kind of sex act, okay without my consent.  Ever.    I also spent a fair amount of time as a teenager smoking weed.  Most weekends I smoked weed and got drunk.  I was a very moderated wild.  And you know what?  Puke on my shirt, where are my pants, when did I take off my bra, what the fuck happened after I passed out would have never made sex okay without my okay.  Period.

Now I didn't spend a lot of time around athletes or popular kids in high school, but the little bit of time I did grossed me out.  I remember being a junior in high school and smoking pot in my friends room when some of her younger sisters friends came in.  They were senior boys who were in a totally different social group than me, pretty boy athletes that were used to girls drooling over them.  I remember feeling nervous, mostly that I was going to be made fun of, and I mostly stayed quiet.  At some point it came out that I didn't know who one of them was.  The boy looked at me and said, "You don't know who I am?"  I shook my head and kept passing the bong.  He was shocked and asked me a couple more times, just to be sure.  I didn't like his attitude, and when I think about that sort of arrogance, I think about the kind of boys who don't think twice about putting their fingers inside of a girl who is passed out and video tape it.  And put it online. And laugh about it.  And blame her.  I don't mean to suggest that the arrogant sports guy  of my story ever raped anyone, he just did plenty of slut shaming at his time at Franklin.  And the system of valuing his abilities as an athlete allowed him to do and say what he liked without reproach.  Portland is no Steubenville, but rape and sexism perpetrated by athletes is excused every day.  Just ask Kobe.

The adults in Steubenville had numerous opportunities to work toward justice in the aftermath of the sexual assault.  Coaches and parents could have come together to address the needs of the survivor, and they could have also instantly stripped the players of their roles on the football team.  But do do that would have disrupted their own privilege, so they stayed quiet.  They let a young girl, who we know nothing about other than the fact that she was drunk the night of the attack, suffer and be ridiculed in order to maintain their status.  Don't tell me that this mentality can't be addressed.  Oh wait, there is an entire industry being propped up on holding athletes to lower standards which relies on coaches, teachers and parents giving them a pass?  Right.

So...Where does that leave us?  Maybe as a society we can't do better, because that would mean fighting patriarchy. But for those of us who actually care, who are committed to justice and equality and the rights of women, we can do better.  It is our job to think outside of the here and now, and to think about what could be, and to work towards that.  We get to be angry, and we get to want more.  But when we can, when we have the space, let's try to be more angry at this system than the victims of that system, so that we can be more prepared to dismantle it.

Open Letter to the Nuge

Dear Ted Nugent,


Today I read your column for World Net Daily (http://www.wnd.com/2013/02/i-honor-blacks-the-dems-destroy-them/) in which you announced that you will name your 2013 tour: "Ted Nugent Black Power 2013."  I think that it is admirable that you have declared your appreciation for black culture and hope to embark on a path that fosters racial equality and support governmental policies that provide real economic and social opportunities for improvement.  I agree that the Democratic party has not always had the interest of ethnic and cultural minorities as a priority when crafting legislation, nor do I argue that President Obama will act in the best interest of black folks in his office.  But I fear that you are missing an opportunity for real dialogue about race relations in these United States by leaving out the legacy of the Republican Party and Conservative politicians of also crafting policies that harm black and brown folks.

There is still a lot of work to be done around racism in the United States, both at the individual and institutional levels.  At present the Republican Party is scrambling to find the same sort of token representation that will appeal to minority voters as the Democrats have found in President Obama.  You might have seen Marco Rubio's presentation of the Republican response to the State of the Union. The Republican desire to lump itself with minority interests in the hopes of gaining additional votes isn't far off base from how the Democrats have used the president to label itself as the party of inclusivity.  But outside of this sort of tokenism, which is harmful to all Americans, limits opportunity for discussions about race and cultural relations, and pits us against each other, we really should talk about policies.


You discuss the rate of drop out among African Americans in your article, and it is true that high school completion rates are at an astoundingly low rates for black teenagers, particularly boys, hovering just above 50%.  I don't think that Black History month will solve this problem, but I do believe that more culturally appropriate and inclusive curriculum could help to raise the graduation rate. We saw an example of this sort of program with the Mexican American Studies program in Tuscon, Arizona, which helped raise high school completion rates among Latino students, as those who participated in the MAS program were over 40% more likely to graduate.  Rather than put more support into this program, perhaps even expand it to include additional ethnicity's, superintendents Tom Horne and John Huppenthal pushed, and succeed in their efforts to eliminate the program.  


While I understand that not all folks agree with all of the content in the program courses, I'd like to state that I didn't agree with a fair amount of the curriculum that was available to me as a student.  I attended public schools in a predominantly white city where curriculum that related to the experiences of people of color was largely limited to slavery, Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks.  Discussion of the realities of people of color, sociological understandings of racism and power, or the encouragement of critical analysis of the material wasn't introduced or encouraged.  The Board of Education in Florida recently unveiled separate benchmark standards for black and Latino students, and by separate I mean lower.  Both Florida and Arizona are headed by Republican Governors.  For a party that stresses small governments and states rights, we must recognize the role that Republican headed states play in preserving and expanding racial inequalities within the educational system.


At the national level, President George W. Bush enacted No Child Left Behind, an unfunded mandate that, with even the best of intentions, continued the legacy of racism that was already prevalent within the U.S. educational system.  Schools that had high academic success began to not meet benchmarks under the new system, and schools that were under performing lost students to more better performing schools and the reduction in FTE adversely affected families and students in attendance at their neighborhood schools.  Looking at the data of school performance through the filter of neighborhood economic status, it is clear that under performing schools tend to be housed in neighborhoods with lower incomes, and many of these neighborhoods exist within communities of color.  This being said, for the students who did decide to transfer to other schools, commute times had an impact on time at home, with friends, homework and extra-curricular activities.  Educators at every level found this mandate troublesome, and wasn't enacted by a Democrat or President Obama.

I do not agree with our President on many things, and I certainly didn't vote for him because he is black.  But I did vote for him, and I do believe that he was democratically elected (as much as that can be true considering our outdated Electoral College system), but I cannot say the same for the second President Bush.  Warrentless wiretapping, loosened standards relating to torture, new categorizations for people participating in armed conflict (i.e. "enemy combatants"), lack of concern for international law, loosened environmental regulation, two unwinnable wars (three when you count the war against terrorism) that cost thousands of Americans their lives, reliance on faulty intelligence and posturing that damaged our reputation in the international community hurt not only people of color, but all Americans.  


You discussed the prevalence of single parent households within the black community but failed to mention the Bush era Abstinence Only sex education projects served to legislate his Evangelical beliefs instead of taking the realities of public health into account.  I don't know how that was good for anyone.  


Considering that you stated that only whores, pimps and welfare brats voted for Obama, while also acknowledging that the president received 93% of the black vote, I am forced to question your real feelings toward black folks.  I love it that you love black music, I do too.  But music is but one element of a culture, and your characterization of who I am is at odds with what I understand unity, respect and power to mean.  I may have different beliefs than you, I may have different values than you, I am a different color than you, but I am neither a pimp nor a whore.  Instead I am a working class black woman who has benefited from social welfare opportunities such as grant money for college, which was made available by the Higher Education Act of 1965 during the Democratic administration of Lyndon B. Johnson.  While I understand that education can be as much of a divider as it is an accelerator, my appreciation for my educational opportunity is one of the defining principles of who I am.

It is impossible for someone who is elected to office to serve the specific interests of all people, and I truly appreciate your disdain for President Obama.  But I do ask you, in good faith, to reconsider naming your tour. Surely an artist of your caliper can determine a title that is representative of your actual beliefs and agenda.  I am not sure that you understand the political and social beliefs of the people who support you as a musician, people who listen to you on your visits to the Political Cesspool radio show, which counts among it's principles: "We wish to revive the White birthrate above replacement level fertility and beyond to grow the percentage of Whites in the world relative to other races," and "America would not be as prosperous, ruggedly individualistic, and a land of opportunity if the founding stock were not Europeans."  This is not what black power looks like, and if you truly wish to honor the black folks who inspire you to make music, please think about real ways that you do this.  It does not include supporting white supremacist, separatist culture and organizations, but may include working to create an inclusive environment where black folks can be safe to come to your shows without feeling threatened and/or like you wish to make a mockery of our experiences of racism.  It does not include making death threats to the man who holds the office of the presidency, but may include working to build upon the example that he has set for many black folks, particularly young folks, that with hard work the American Dream is possible.  

I will not attend any of your tour dates, because I don't much care for your brand of music nor do I wish to voluntarily share space with people who support your attitudes and beliefs.  I will not watch your television shows, where you shoot animals from trees.   I respect your right to say the things that you like and call our nations policies into question, it is our duties as Americans to do so. If I were a praying person I would pray that the people of color who do venture to your shows are able to do so without bodily harm and racial slurs.  I will also, from this point forward, choose to abstain from listening to REO Speedwagon, who I have liked a bit in the past, and who will join you on this tour.  As part of my power, as a black woman and as an American, I can exercise my power through choice, and I choose to not support or enjoy you or artists that associate with you.  It is my hope that others, regardless of the color of their skin, make the choice to do the same.


Graciously,


Monica Wilson

Don't Shoot (PART DEAUX)

I love to listen to music, my favorite place to enjoy listening to music is in my car.  I listen to music on my way to anywhere, work, home, etc.  Usually very specific music.  You see, I don't like just anything, but when I find something that I like I listen to it for months on end, sometimes even a whole year, without interruption.  Right now it is Bruno Mars, before that it was a combination of Maroon 5 and Kelly Clarkson, before that DJ Khaled, before that just Maroon 5.  Prior to Maroon 5 it was pretty  much just Justin Timberlake...For...A...Really...Long....Time...  But between these phases I listen to a mash up of random stuff, typically rap music.  Often rap music that is full of expletives and other language that is not appropriate for mixed company. When I listen to music, I do it properly, which is to mean at full volume.  That being said, if you pull up next to me while I am listening to music, regardless of what it is, please don't shoot.

The brutal murder of Jordan Davis hasn't gotten the same attention as that of Trayvon Martin, and probably for a fair amount of reasons.  Davis's attacker was arrested (somewhat) immediately and there were a number of eyewitnesses to the attack.  Like the Martin tragedy, the man who shot young Jordan Davis is claiming self defense.  Like the Martin tragedy, I am calling bullshit.  I'll call this situation another example of Death By Racist Dick, or DBRD for short.

What is crystal clear to me in both of these situations is that a white man (or white-ish man who enjoys white privilege) has decided to take a young black mans life when that young man doesn't behave in the way proscribed by the attackers preference.  Or should I rephrase that....

What is crystal clear to me is that in both of these situations the perpetrators of violence who enjoys white privilege within the United States have taken it upon themselves to murder unarmed black men under the age of 18 for not doing as those attackers have demanded.  Being killed for not following directions isn't acceptable or legal, and there shouldn't be a legitimate legal defense for it.  Situations such as these were morally reprehensible in the era of slavery or antebellum, but they are both morally reprehensible and illegal today.

It's not a new situation in this country that Black men are seen as a threat.  Threat to property, threat to person, threat to status, threat to women...  But I am constantly told and reminded that racism is a thing of the past.  People are too sensitive and want to take the rights away of hard working white folks who have earned everything they have and deserve to hate brown skin people because it is their right.  Not that anyone hates anyone else, but there are reasons to be afraid, there are truths behind the stereotypes and the prejudices.  Brown skinned people, whether born here or abroad, want to take advantage of the system and not work for anything, take jobs and live off the system.  And it's as simple as that.  We have the right to think, feel and believe whatever we want.   When you couple this right with disdain for anything that reeks of being politically correct (or as I like to call it, thoughtful and/or inclusive), all of the sudden racism isn't the problem but "reverse racism" is.  Add the right to arm oneself and Stand Your Ground laws which allow folks to shoot first and ask questions second, we've got a seriously fucked up situation on our hands.  A fucked up racist situation on our hands.  But what's new? Not a G-d damned thing.

Black folks can't as readily be strung up in trees for not doing as we are told as in decades and centuries past, but a bullet to the dome is just as effective.  But if you want this liberal northern black chick to take your self defense claims seriously, you had better stick around to face the fucking music.  Self defense doesn't look like several shots into a car with closed doors.  Self defense doesn't look like jumping in your car, speeding off, and staying in a motel for the night to dodge cops.  And self defense sure as shit doesn't look like starting arguments that you can't win and shooting young folks in conclusion.  Wait a second...Let me say that differently.

Self defense does not now, nor has it ever, looked like creating beef with someone you don't know and then murdering them in cold blood.

So here comes the shocker, maybe (just maybe, hold the phones, I said MAYBE, calm the fuck down), guns and their role in our society play a role in this debacle.  Of course, there are many ways to murder a person.  And  yes I know, you have interpreted the second amendment to your liking (because you are a constitutional scholar).  And yes I know that guns don't kill people, people kill people, but when a person is coming at you with a knife or a razor or a motherfucking bow and arrow, there may be a moment that you get to realize that shit has gone terribly wrong and  maybe there is chance to escape. Maybe not without being wounded, but likely with your life.  But hold on, cuz I'm about to get even realer in this bitch.

Maybe in addition to "better" gun control (understood as any sort of reasonable and not determined by lobbyists and big money interests), self defense could be offered as part of the physical education requirement in all of the grades of our public schools so that in ten years a thirty year old man who doesn't like the looks of a hooded teenager who he thinks is doing wrong in  a neighborhood (whether he lives in it or not), can apprehend the "subject" in a "less lethal" sort of way (citizens arrest anyone?  Bueller...). And young folks (women, men, trans, all of the above) have the physical tools to protect themselves and be clever and/or prepared when they are being attacked.  Maybe, just maybe as part of the graduation requirement from high school there could be something related to conflict resolution and intercultural communication?  Because maybe if we know how to talk to people in a way that doesn't just say "I'm a huge fucking dick and you better do what I say," the person that we are talking to might be better equipped to respond in a "non-threatening" way?  Maybe instead of forcing us all to justify the past through outdated history lessons we can move to a more culturally inclusive and culturally appropriate way of conducting social studies that includes a multicultural perspective so that when we see people who don't look like the "norm" we can understand their families journey as more than just a cog in the wheel of the train we call white privilege. Just a couple thoughts.... Don't like 'em?  Call me, I have more.

More Than one Box--Part One

Yesterday I had the opportunity to stand in front of a group of people, mostly strangers, and talk about my experiences as a person of color.  Weird, I know.  I tend to enjoy public speaking, especially when it is in front of students talking about stuff that I know inside and out.  But I always get hot when I'm speaking in front of a group and end up sweaty by the end, regardless of the topic.  I always hope that there is enough distance between us that they can't see the beads of sweat on my forehead or smell my pits.  Yesterday was no different.  But it's not just when I talk in front of crowds that I get nervous and sweaty, it's any time I'm put outside of my element.  First dates were a son of a bitch for me, I'd always have to plan an early break so I could retreat to the bathroom and get decent.  I guess you'd call it anxiety.  It's a trait I surely inherrited from my mom.  My white mom.

Unlike the experiences of other mixed heritage people I have met, most mixed heritage folks I have met, no one ever asks me what I am.  It is remarkably obvious that I am black.  I'm probably the most obviously black of all of my mixed siblings.  I like not having to explain what I am.  Explaining who I am is often a different situation.

So back to standing in front of a room full of folks, talking about my experiences.  There are some students, but there are probably more colleagues, most of them directors, deans and other folks from the upper eschelon of leadership at Clark, save for some instructors sprinkled throughout.  And they're just looking at me, listening.  And me, being me, meaning I am totally winging this shit (insert picture of me doing the chicken dance here), talk briefly about growing up black, but mixed, in a white city in white schools where people who know me and sometimes people who love me want me to clarify who I am and "choose."  I talked a little bit about coming of age and coming to terms with who I am and where I belong.  It happened fast, around the time I was 19, when I realized that while I may not fit into the norm of black stereotypical behavior, there would be no hiding from the fact that I am black.  Period.  With a mostly white family.  And now with a white husband.  And one day with predominately white children.  Hmm.

I talked about the safety of my family, who for the most part got who I was in terms of my behavior, and who loved me for who I was and for who I am.  But I wish that I would have said more.  Because the reality is that making black babies and loving the black children in your family, as good as the intentions are, doesn't exempt you from being racist.  Not necessarily the "bad" kind of racist that puts on a hood and burn crosses on lawns, but the kind of racist that enforces stereotypes and helps children believes the narratives about brown people not being as good as white people.  It was never "intentional" but how does that saying go?  You're intentions don't change my outcome?  Something like that....Whatever.

Case in point, I'm a little girl watching the re-make of Pollyanna with Keisha Knight-Pulliam, AKA Rudy Huxtable.  At some point in the movie some old white lady called little Pollyanna a pickaninny.  I   turned around and faced my grandma, who loved me as much as she loved her own kids and probably loved me more than anyone ever has or will.  I asked her what the word meant.  She didn't tell me what it meant, instead she said, "You're our little pickaninny."  It was fucked up.  I knew then that it was fucked up, even though I didn't know what it meant.  I knew it had something to do with my brown skin.  But you know what?  I loved her all the same.  Especially when she let me be still on her lap and snuggle in close.  I remember that time because it hurt.  I didn't know why it hurt, but it did, and it still does.  I'd take a million of those experiences over again to have another chance to snuggle into my grandmas lap, but that's a different story.

But grandmas are kind of just like that, right?  Everyone's grandparents say fucked up shit that is racist or homophobic, and they get away with it because they came up in a different time.  And in general old people get to say crazy shit and not get called on it, simply because they are old, whether it is oppressive or not.  But it wasn't just my grandma who said totally insensitive and racist things, it was other folks too.  And not just white folks, black folks too.

One of my steadfast memories of my black Dad growing up was him calling white men Opie and black men Buckwheat.  True story.

And what to do with the fact that Dad only had relationships with white women and Mom only had relationships with black men.  Where did that put me?  I'll tell you where. In a place where there were no black women in my life who I had a strong connection to or who really served as a solid role model for me, much less a mentor.  A woman who could talk to me about her experiences growing up and give me insight about how racism has effected her life and teach me lessons, with words or examples, on how to navigate in this world.  It wasn't until I was nearly twenty that I realized that this might be important, but by then I felt like too much of an outsider to seek it out.  And where do you start?  Instead I take what I can get where I can get it.  And I share my stories with others so that maybe a young person who struggled with the same rediculous issues I have will recognize that maybe I can be a resource for her.

But honestly, how can I talk about my story without talking about class?  But how do I talk about my class background in front of strangers and folks who have power over me?  Talking about class in generalized terms is one thing, sharing my story is another.  So I left that out.  And I regret it.  If I had it to do all over again I would have talked about growing up poor.  No I mean it, pooooooor.  Like lights shut off poor, no food in the fridge poor, welfare and foodstamps poor.  Clothes that don't fit and are rediculously ugly poor.  Free lunch poor, government cheese poor.  Mattresses on the floor no sheets poor.  Dad's driving a new mustang while Mom's on the bus poor.  Living with your aunts because Mom can't take care of you poor.  Living with Dad's estranged wife because Mom can't take care of you poor.  Living with a stranger because Mom can't take care of you poor.  New shoes once a year poor.  The kind of poor that makes the rise to the rungs of lower middle class A FUCKING DREAM COME TRUE!!!

My brand of poor was the kind that people aren't shocked to see a black kid wear.  Yet my mom was white.  Growing up I wanted to shout it from the roof tops that I wasn't poor because I was black, that my dad, was in fact, doing just fine.  That his other kids had clothes that were new with portraits hung on the walls displaying their picture perfect looks with  hair that was neatly arranged and cute smiles.  But then there was me, clothes packed into a plastic or paper sack for weekend stays.  A reprieve from poor twice a month, where I was still the outsider.

I can't tell my story about being a person of color without talking about having tits and pubes before I was 9 and  my period before I was 10.  I can't tell my story about being a person of color without talking about having an absentee father.  I can't tell my story about being a person of color without talking about my families history of alcohol and drug abuse.  I can't tell my story about being a person of color without talking about working since I was 15, or about my first boyfriend who was a heroin addict who told me I was the whitest black person he had ever met, or the best friend who told me that she didn't care about black peoples experiences because in general black women were bitches.

But what I did share was this: if you expect belong, it starts inside.

I realized after a lot of crying and some spectacular time spent with loving black folks who didn't expect me to be anything but what I was, that I didn't have to choose.  I realized that who I am cannot be defined as a percentage, I am wholly human.  My black cells and my white cells aren't at battle with each other, they aren't separate.  They don't argue over politics or debate about affirmative action.  I get to claim it all, equally and without explanation.

When I was wee, like three years old wee, I used to look down at my naked torso to the linea negra that seemed fraction my body and think that it was the dividing line.  I'd look at it and wonder which side was black and which side was white.  I learned to describe myself in terms of a sandwich, peanut butter and mayonaise. It was important to me, even then, to be able to put into perspective what I was and where I belonged.  I needed to have an answer for the imaginary questions I received about why a black kid would be with a group of white people.  I always felt like an imposter.  And as I got older those questions became real, with inquiries about being adopted and other completely ignorant bullshit that people don't have the right to heap on young folks.

So....What's the point?  Kiddos are precious fucking cargo.  Some of us are lucky enough to get them, even when they aren't asked for, some of us aren't.  They come in all shapes, sizes, colors, hues, temperaments, and with a variety of needs.  And whether you asked for that  kid or not, you're stuck with them and they are stuck with your bullshit, so pull it together.  Choose to think outside of the here and now.  I get it, adult life is stressful, there are bills to pay and dinners to cook, but it's never too early to start talking to your kids about identity and what that means, regardless of the color of their skin.  Because one day that kid may come across an LMA (Little Monica Anne).  Her pants will be too short, her hair will be a frizzy hot mess and she will have a vocabulary like no other seven year old anyone has ever met.  Your kid will either be thoughtful enough to embrace her as she is, or they won't; who knows?  Or maybe your kid brings home an LMA to play after school or to hang for a sleep over, those conversations about identity may help you be the kind of safe adult who can treat her like she's normal and never expect her to explain who she is to you.  Maybe those conversations will prepare you to talk to her about her reality and give her the chance to tell you about her peanut butter sandwich theory, or better yet the story about the time her aunt detangled her hair with a fork.  The point is that everyone's experiences, people of color or not, are shaped by the world around them. So get off your "Ugh, everything has to be so PC" bullshit and be kind.  Be thoughtful of other peoples experiences and ask questions before you make statements.  You never know when that one sentence to come out of your mouth will be the one that sticks with someone for the rest of their life, so make it count.

REALITY BITES

Dear Evelyn Lozado-Ochocinco-Johnson,

Fuck you.  

Sincerely,

Monica Wilson

Oh wait, let me back up.

Sorry about the cut to your forehead.  I hope it heals up nicely, but I imagine your plastic surgeon will see to that.  No one deserves to be hit, or kicked, or head butted. 

But do me a favor?  Stop trying to be the face of domestic violence.  The public already has a hard enough time believing survivors stories.  You aren't helping.

I know it's been less than 48 hours since it all happened, and I know how you hate to miss an opportunity to whore it up in the media.  But really, take some time off camera to reflect.  About what? Don't worry, I have some suggestions.

Reflection topic #1: What are you going to do with your life now that you've have ended another relationship with an athlete?  Maybe choose something other than reality television.  It makes you look like a bitch.  Oh wait, that's not the editing.

Reflection topic #2: Get real about who you are.  You are famous for fucking athletes.  You don't bring positivity to the world on any level.  You are catty and mean to people, and violent yourself.  I'd never blame a person who is on the receiving end of intimate partner violence.  Violence just isn't the answer. But when you regularly use violence to prove your point, as you do (throwing bottles and punches when you don't like people or their opinions), you can't expect people to have too much sympathy when the tables turn.  Take inventory of the choices you've made that have led to the situation you are in.  

Reflection topic #3: Instead of playing the victim role, recognize your role as an abuser.  Instead of trying to gather sympathy, determine how you can address the issue of interpersonal violence and then work to end the cycle that you perpetuate when you put hands on your best friend.  

Now it's time to do:

• Treat people how you like to be treated.  Don't like to be hit?  QUIT HITTING OTHER PEOPLE!
• Act like you're family might be embarrassed when they see you wildin' out on TV.  QUIT HITTING OTHER PEOPLE!  And maybe you could stop the screaming, belittling, and throwing of champagne bottles while you're at it.  And don't jump on tables anymore.  
• Behave like you have a teenage daughter who is now starting to date athletes and rappers, like her mama showed her.  Show her the options that are available to her with an education and some self-respect.  Maybe you could QUIT HITTING OTHER PEOPLE?  But maybe also you could find a way to make a living that isn't dependent on whom you are sleeping with.  If for no other reason, your daughter is watching you.  And not just on TV, she can see you in real life too.

But really, until you act right, even a little bit, I'm sticking with fuck you.  If not for me having to be bombarded with your crocodile tears and woe is me disposition over recent events, then for the abusive ways you have treated women you care about.  Violence is violence, don't hurt the people you love.  Or the people you loved at one time.  You might think you are a bad bitch, and that you are about this life.  And if that's still true, after everything you've been through, then seriously: F.....

It's not even worth it.  Just go away already.

Delete Delete Delete

Today I did something I haven't done before.  I've been thinking about it for a few days, because I wanted to make sure that I was doing the right thing.  I've been talking about it for a few days, to anyone who would listen.  Delete a Facebook "friend" or hide them.  I didn't want to hurt her feelings but I also wanted to make a point.  You see my dilemma.

A month or so back, this "friend" who I knew from middle school, went on a FB rant about fat people wearing inappropriate clothes for their body type.  Things like tank tops and shorts.  She qualified it as okay since she is also a "big girl."  Within 24 hours she posted a picture she had taken of a woman in a tank top at Walmart, demonstrating her disgust.  The backlash was immediate and she removed the picture, but  made excuses in a separate post about how she was just making a point.

Three days ago, she did it again.  While in the safety and likely A/C of her mini-van, she snapped a picture of a woman in a skirt and tank top riding a razor scooter.  Not only, according to my ex-facebook friend, dressed inappropriately for the 85 degree day, she had no business riding a scooter.  She would never!  My response?  Good thing you don't have to.

This kind of behavior, cyber bullying by some standards, pisses me the fuck off.  Why you ask?  Let me break it down for you.

1. Fat people look fat no matter what they are wearing, no matter our mode of transport, no matter where we are shopping.  I know this, I deal with it every day.  I've gotten over not wearing red because it makes me look fat, so does black, blue and brown.  Nothing hides it, it's there!  People are going to judge me regardless of what I wear.  I judge other people all the time.  Usually not for their size, but on their merit.  And not merit like how much they've accomplished in their lives, but  how much of an asshole they are on any given day.  

2. Snapping pictures of people you don't know, in secret mind you, without their consent for your friends to also laugh at, is cowardice.  A real bully would go to someones face and poke fun of them for being fat.  Buck up lady, if you are going to do it, do it fucking right.  That way, when you bark up the wrong tree you can get checked for it.  And hopefully in front of your three kids, which you can't blame your weight for, since you were fat in middle school too.  Just like me.  Bitch.

3.Do unto others, right?  You'd know, you are the one who is a god fearing christian.  Talking shit on the internet isn't very Christ like.  Just saying.

4. I get it, you don't like being fat.  Neither do I.  Some days I am more proactive about my health and size than others.  It's my battle, I share it when it feels safe to.  You clearly need support around this issue, and I wish that you had an appropriate platform for this.  Putting strangers down on Facebook, for your 200 friends to see, is not that platform.  You may have trouble seeing beauty when you look in the mirror, but it is likely not for the double chin fractioned neck.  It's because you are acting like an asshole and that isn't a good look.

5.  You don't know her, and you sure as shit don't know her situation.  She may have left an abusive situation with the clothes on her back and was lucky to have a friend loan her a scooter to get to and from the bus stop, considering that there isn't close by-mass transit in your neighborhood.  Or maybe she just likes to ride a scooter.  Maybe she's lost 50 pounds riding around on that scooter, and feels great about her body.  But maybe, just maybe, it's none of your fucking business and you should shut the fuck up.

6.  I fancy myself a role model.  I work for two educational institutions and do my best every day to build relationships with students based on trust and mutual respect.  Bullying, cyber or not, is an issue that has devastating long term effects on people, young and old.  When I was in middle school and made fun of every day for being fat and having the wrong clothes and being poor and having the wrong hair and glasses, I hated my life.  We didn't call it bullying, but we all knew it was wrong.  It simmered down around teachers so no one got in trouble, but the pain was heavy in my mind.  It was another secret I had to keep and more shame to add to the heap.  I grew up, I got over it (so to speak), but as an advocate for young people I will not laugh it off or ignore it.  Especially not when it is an adult doing it.  Especially not when it takes only one of your friends to repost the picture, and one of theirs, for this poor woman to see how she has been taunted (without her knowledge or consent) on Facebook.  I can't be a party to that, in any sense.  For me to be a safe person for young people, and adult students as well, to discuss their issues with, I have to set the example.  And you, lady with three children, should consider doing the same.

So there you have it folks.  Me, another rant about being pissed off and not liking people.  I may be as much of an asshole as my former Facebook friend, but at least I've got good reasons.