Let's Lift the Veil a Bit
I can't really express how much I appreciate it when people tell me that they read what I have to say and resonates with them. I've been thinking a lot about our missing villages, and when people tell me that I have given voice to some of their concerns, it increases my determination to keep building these social villages that we need to survive. And it daunts me. Who am I to speak? What am I contributing with these observations, both to my own personal life and to human life on earth?
Still, I have to remember that if I don't speak, someone else will. Our narratives are so often told by other people. I don't necessarily mean that white people or heterosexuals or cis-men keep telling all the stories, though there is a preponderance of those public and private voices. It's just that I feel like we're trained to be an audience. We're always telling our children to listen.
The skill of listening is invaluable. But I wonder, to whom do we add value for listening (women)? I think about this a lot as I raise my little men. We wish all children would just obey and go along with the adult program, but at the some point, the boys get a little push to be leaders and the girls get sat down to be listeners. Certainly there are exceptions, but I find that adult men just take up so much space without even thinking about it, and the women are constantly making room. This is what my children witness in their everyday world, and so what will they replicate?
I think you should know that for every coherent sentence here, I've screamed/yelled/spat dozens of terrible, mean things in real life at the people I love the most. Why? Because there's no blueprint for living life in an unjust system with imperfect people. Because sometimes it's just too much to create a palatable language for unsympathetic people. Because my village is missing and I'm tired of being alone. I am both bad and good, and perhaps we need a better vocabulary for our complicated human relationships.
I don't believe in absolute truth. I know we all have our own journeys. Perhaps some journeys are more amenable to listening and holding space than to speaking and taking it. We do our children a great disservice by not paying attention to this tension. They should, we should, be allowed to be both listener and speaker, to give and take freely and consciously, because I really believe that we can dismantle white supremacy and patriarchy through generosity.
So if I must adhere to any philosophy, it'd be generosity. Generosity for all our mistakes and missteps. Generosity for our deficits of compassion and recognition. But it is not generous to let people remain in their ignorance and self-interest. Generosity is uncomfortable. It's not meant to cushion your uneasy conscience. It holds the space for you to grow. I do hope that my boys and I are growing into better people, but it is not pretty.
Still, I have to remember that if I don't speak, someone else will. Our narratives are so often told by other people. I don't necessarily mean that white people or heterosexuals or cis-men keep telling all the stories, though there is a preponderance of those public and private voices. It's just that I feel like we're trained to be an audience. We're always telling our children to listen.
The skill of listening is invaluable. But I wonder, to whom do we add value for listening (women)? I think about this a lot as I raise my little men. We wish all children would just obey and go along with the adult program, but at the some point, the boys get a little push to be leaders and the girls get sat down to be listeners. Certainly there are exceptions, but I find that adult men just take up so much space without even thinking about it, and the women are constantly making room. This is what my children witness in their everyday world, and so what will they replicate?
I think you should know that for every coherent sentence here, I've screamed/yelled/spat dozens of terrible, mean things in real life at the people I love the most. Why? Because there's no blueprint for living life in an unjust system with imperfect people. Because sometimes it's just too much to create a palatable language for unsympathetic people. Because my village is missing and I'm tired of being alone. I am both bad and good, and perhaps we need a better vocabulary for our complicated human relationships.
I don't believe in absolute truth. I know we all have our own journeys. Perhaps some journeys are more amenable to listening and holding space than to speaking and taking it. We do our children a great disservice by not paying attention to this tension. They should, we should, be allowed to be both listener and speaker, to give and take freely and consciously, because I really believe that we can dismantle white supremacy and patriarchy through generosity.
So if I must adhere to any philosophy, it'd be generosity. Generosity for all our mistakes and missteps. Generosity for our deficits of compassion and recognition. But it is not generous to let people remain in their ignorance and self-interest. Generosity is uncomfortable. It's not meant to cushion your uneasy conscience. It holds the space for you to grow. I do hope that my boys and I are growing into better people, but it is not pretty.
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