#i am the most privileged queer person I know and yet it still shakes me to my core to see proof that queers have been here forever

[asmolbirb]

there’s something so profound about leafing through a queer resource compendium from a decade ago and googling each resource one by one, never knowing if you’re about to find a small but thriving 45-year-strong niche of queer existence, or the remnants of a queer community that fought harder to exist for just two years than you’ve ever fought for anything in your life. from 404 error to garish newgrounds-nouveau, from “issue published feb 2022” to “profile updated july 7 2013”, the same thread wends its way through the tapestry, saying: do you see us? do you see that we have always been here, that we always will be? thank you for seeing us. we see you, too.

[degstiel]

Coming to Terms With Myself

In a society that has formed a very distinct idea of what a person should be, I found it hard for a very long time to be true to myself. There exists a set of boxes that social conditioning bids us all to jam ourselves into- some people naturally gravitate to these boxes while others find them uncomfortable, cramping, and unnatural. For at least some of these societal boxes, I fall into the latter category, and yet I spent a lot of time trying desperately to fit myself in the box of who the world wanted me to be. I didn’t even fully realize I was doing it initially. Social pressure and conditioning can be very potent. Indeed, rather than recognizing that these boxes just weren’t made for me, I instead thought there was something wrong with me for being the way that I am. I thought that somehow, even though I didn’t feel like it was the case, that some of my feelings must be inauthentic because how could they not be? The narrative I was force fed from the time I was so young that I don’t even recall it dictated that existing as I’m truly inclined to is wrong. It took far too long for me to reject that conditioning and accept myself, regardless of what the world might think of me for doing so.

I am demisexual and polyamorous. 

The first of these is something I acknowledge about myself but often won’t claim aloud, instead favouring to simply explain how attraction works for me. I am still not fully comfortable claiming the identity because even the community that is supposed to support it often doesn’t, especially in my case because while I am demisexual, I am not otherwise queer. I am straight and demisexual. This affords me a level of privilege that some others don’t get because it means I pass for being ordinary in that regard. I love often and I love fully. I love in many ways, romantic love being only one form I experience. For me, romantic love and sexual attraction only ever extend to men. While it only extends to a small group of men whom I am already close with prior to developing any romantic or sexual attraction, it still only extends to men. I also happen to have a high sex drive, making me pass even more for ordinary. But while my drive is high, my attraction is limited. If I don’t romantically love the person, sexual attraction just doesn’t exist for me. I can recognize attractiveness from an aesthetic point of view, but only in the same way I might find a beautiful painting or a horse to be aesthetically pleasing. When I explain this to people, they seldom really understand what I mean. Unfortunately, because I can easily pass for having a “normal” sexuality, I don’t feel truly welcome in the LGBTQIA+ or aspec communities. I have a high drive, so I don’t belong with asexuals. I am attracted only to the opposite sex, so I don’t belong with the “LGB” part of the acronym either. I often feel that this part of myself is trapped on an island with no community who understands or wants me, and that trying to be part of the communities that are most like me in that regard would be overstepping and intruding on a space that isn’t for me. I am glad there is a word for this part of me, and yet I do not feel that I can truly claim it for fear of stepping on someone else’s proverbial toes. 

The second of these is something that I knew in my heart about myself for quite some time before I truly accepted it. There is a lot of social pressure to be monogamous. So much in fact that for quite awhile I not only tried to convince the outside world that I fit into that box, but I also tried to convince myself. It made me miserable. Every time I loved someone other than my partner while I had a partner I felt horribly guilty. The narrative I’d been fed for as long as I can remember dictated that if I fell in love with another person, I obviously couldn’t possibly have loved the first one. If I loved the first one at all, then clearly I at the very least didn’t love them enough. Instead of recognizing the fault in the narrative, I tried to guilt myself into letting go of feelings that I couldn’t shake. It made me unhappy. Even when I started to accept it and told my partners when these things happened, I didn’t really accept myself. I still felt guilty. I still tried to shove myself in the box. It was futile. The harder I tried to fit in the box, the smaller and more uncomfortable the box felt. When I finally gave in and rejected that box it felt as though an elephant had taken one of its feet off my chest after having been holding it there, bearing down on me for years. Sometimes I feel like a bad poly person because I only have one partner right now. I feel like even though I’ve accepted my true self that it doesn’t really count unless I have multiple partners at all times. I know that isn’t true, but it is how I often feel. 

At the very least, none of the feelings about my lack of community cause me to refuse to be my authentic self anymore. I rejected the first boxes prescribed to me and I will reject the new ones, too. I am happier being true to myself. 

The world looks at me and tells me that it’s impossible to love multiple people at once. The world looks at me and tells me that I’m not demisexual, I’m just picky. The world looks at me and tells me that demisexuality is a made up identity for people who just want to feel special. The world looks at me and tells me that I am being taken advantage of for being with someone so much older than me, especially when they have another partner already. The world looks at me and tells me that my love for more than one person at one time is disgusting and dishonest. 

I am fed up with the world bossing me around. This is my life and I will live it as my authentic self. The world is wrong about me and about the communities that I identify with, but don’t quite fit in. At least for me, these things about me have never made me feel special, but rather an outsider. They make it hard to relate to a lot of people who just don’t or won’t understand- who often refuse to even try to understand. I am standing up for myself. The only person who gets to tell me how to live my life is myself. 

I am polyamorous. 

I am demisexual. 

I am valid. 

[alltheverses]

Pray, For We Are

I do not need to be told

Or see the face of my mom as she reads the latest update

To know

An act of God or inhumanity 

Again

Shakes the bones of someone

An individual 

A family

A community 

A country 

A people

Who and how many are both

Irrelevant and a whispered rite

Say their names

Toll the number

See each face and let it inscribe on your heart both a deep abiding sorrow and

Possibly 

Sometimes 

Nothing more than a moment's thought

Of how their brow creases 

Not because tragedy has grown mediocre

Not because the shock wears off after seeing too many pictures of someone's heart breaking, surrounded by the remains of everything that they loved

The shock has yet to leave 

Each new loss that someone else suffers 

Has kept it fresh and angry

Angry because this should not

Should never

Have happened

Angry because it keeps happening

Because the aid needed was denied again

Because someone, someones are cheering

Saying 'This is only what they deserved

Thank god it finally happened' 

Not every pain runs so close to my heart

There is not enough space

If I turned my heart into

Infinite surface area and infinitesimal mass

There would not be enough space

And my heart is laden with holes enough

But some

Some drag sobs from me

That I cannot control

That *was* me

That was my people

My kin

They suffered because someone cursed something we shared

And took the enactment into their own hands

Gloved and at a distance

Or close, skin to skin

Some I cry for because that is all I can do

Send a witch's prayer

And add my name to a thought out plea

Saying stop, remember that you are human

Spread word of support lines and updated information

It is not that I do not care enough

I think

Most days I know it is because our brains were built with a shutdown system

There is too much

Too much

And we cannot grieve every moment 

And the wisest activists know to protect from burn out

A candle will flicker to nothing 

Left burning

When I was not yet an adult

The library

Where most of my shifts were in the quiet of morning

Before patrons came through the doors

That library

Was required to have training

In case

God forbid

God always god forbid

An angry man picked up a gun

We learned

The children's section was an easy first target

I was told to run

Through the stacks

Where I would likely be 

If

And keep running

Until I was blocks away 

Then ask someone for their phone to call for help

With solemn faces I was told which librarians

Which friends

Would have no cover

No warning

One of them had three children

I watched them on late nights

The littlest coloring with me until bedtime

And all this was 

Good

I was told

Good to know

I suppose it was

But I still panic sometimes

If I think of it

And my hands go numb

Nothing ever came of that knowledge 

I never had to use it

Lucky

I think, as I see students the same age I was 6, 7 years ago

Resign to one day face that

Because thoughts and prayers

Are sent

Not change

I was lucky

I am lucky

Luck has 

Something to do with it

Privilege has more

All my neighbors yards wear blue signs

Saying they back the badge 

I want to tear them out

So that those who drive our backroad do not have to see this

Quiet

Loud hate

My race protects me 

And I am still afraid of that badge

My mom will break news as gently as she can

To my brothers and I

Of how our queer, trans kin 

Died that particular day

So we do not read it alone in our dark rooms

And by ourselves wonder if it might be us someday

Choke on the thought of shared experience 

And ask why it was so wrong to someone

To live truthfully 

Whole thousands

Each individual as important as the last

And I cannot do more than I am

Cannot go and join a rally

A protest that shuts down a hate center disguised as bureaucracy

I am here in my room

Doing all I can

To survive my own personal tragedies each day

And to see past them

My doctor has yet to lift the restrictions from my surgery

And he is right

If he had, I would hurt myself trying

The scar is still fresh

And I do not know what it looks like beneath

Bone removed

A space made

For a brain that was built too big for its solid casing

Only do this for my heart

Make space for all these feelings

In an organ that metaphorically holds them

It is too big for my chest

And spills onto my face as tears

And mouth as words

And paper as a silent call

Please

We are human

Whoever it is that is in the news today

Hurt or gone

By the hands of hate

They were human

Are human

Pray, for we are going to bring this to its knees

Not today

But someday

Someday through word of mouth and crowdshare

Through emailed petitions and physical rallies

We will make it just a bit better

And some will say it has always been like this

It has never been like this

It has always been like this

And we will say

That is not enough

We will not let our evolution stop here

We deserve better

Our future deserves better

It is strong

The hearts beating together to protect

To change

But for today

I must let myself fall back

And sleep

Because we are none of us Atlas

And the world is too big for my hands

Today is my day of rest

And I will still take moments for this current pain someone else feels

It goes unignored

But the sun is too bright for my eyes

And I curl into my nest

I am not finished

Only resting

[granvarones]

Louie: Let's start off with your upbringing. What was it like growing up in Chicago?   David: I grew up in the North, Northwest side of Chicago. I've moved around most of my life. Sadly, in most cases due to evictions. Somehow my family always stood close to Main Street Pulaski. Blue line for life bond!! I'm the baby of six kids; five boys, one girl. My sister is the oldest. My father passed away when I was two years old and from the stories I hear, it was a blessing. He was abusive to my mother and drank a lot. I'm the only one of my siblings that doesn't have a single memory of him. Growing up my mother worked day and night. I only saw her in the mornings while she woke me up for school. I would walk home and my mother would call home from work to find out what we wanted for dinner. It usually had to be something quick as she was using her lunch break to run and grab us dinner. Then go back to work. My mother is my hero. No extended family helped us. My mom raised six kids in Chicago all by herself. We are all still here thanks to her. No degree. She scrubbed toilets, cleaned trucks, and learned skills all on her own.   Louie: What is it like being Latinx and queer in Chicago?   David: This is such a hard Fucking question. I'm still discovering the answer to this. My identity to ethnicity is so complicated. I'm Mexican, Polish, and Russian. My dad was Mexican. My mom polish and Russian. Our Latinx community here small yet still big. I'm still proving myself as a LATINX. On both sides of my family I am fourth generation American . I don't know what part of Mexico my family comes from. My great-grandparents had the attitude, "You're in America ...speak English." Nothing was passed down and I used to hate that so much. Most of my friends back in the day were Mexican and I would see how important culture and family was and would be so jelly. My family wasn't like that.   Louie: My experience is similar. I grew up feeling not Latino enough. David: To the Latinx community, I'm still just white. To whites, I'm Mexican . I honestly come to terms that I might not ever be accepted by the Latinx community for the simple fact I don't speak Spanish. I know what you and others might be thinking "Then why don't you just learn?" BITCH! Pay my bills and I'll take a whole year off to start learning!! (LOL) That's kinda a lowkey goal of mine. To go somewhere in Latin America or Mexico for like 6 months and just learn . But whether the Latinx community wants me or not, I'm still here and don't intend to go anywhere . If anything I use the term Latinx more than anything because of the term being more inclusive.   Louie: When did you first time you heard yourself say "I'm gay?"   David: It was just before my 21st birthday. I was working retail on the side and by this point even if I didn't announce it, most people that met me by this point knew I was gay. The first person I came out to was the hardest person to come out to. My best friend. A straight guy that can get any girl he wants. He probably was born with a six pack (LOL). We had been best friends since the 7th grade and I was convinced that this would ruin our relationship. That he would think that all the arguments we had, that all the play wrestling as kids, and our entire relationships was base off of me having some other type of feelings for him. Which might of been true when we were kid without me realizing it but by this point he was simply my brother. It was winter break and he was home from college and as soon as he gets home, we link-up, chill, and light up a hookah. We were at my place and I knew I wanted to “come out” but also knew he should be the first to know. We sat in my room and I told him I had something important to tell him. He had to go and his ride was coming to pick him up so I had to say it already. I started out simply by saying " I'm ...." and that's it. I stood in mid sentence for a good 20 minutes just frozen. He didn't rush me. He just chilled. Waiting for me to finish saying it. Looking back on it now, I know he knew but I had to say it first. Mind you, until this moment I had never said it out loud even if myself. His ride was here and he had to go. He put his book bag on looking at me waiting for me to say it already . I finally said it. "I'm gay." It was the first time hearing myself say it. As I put my head down not wanting to see his expression . He simply said, "That's it? Cool." Like it was nothing. Because it was nothing. I told him why I was afraid and he shrugged it off like it was no biggie. I walked him out. That was it. That was the beginning of me coming out.   Louie: When did you tell your family? David: Once I had enough support, I then told my family. My mom shrugged it off too. I'm blessed. I didn’t have the whole family disowning me experience or the people no longer wanting to be friends with me. Some needed a moment but I also had the mind set that “fuck whomever can't handle it.” I learned to understand that everyone deals with acceptance differently. For my brothers, it's making jokes about my sexuality. That's how we talk about it. That's how they came to accept me. Louie: How is life now? David: Now I mentor young people. So many the young men I mentor have told me I am the only gay person they know and literally have jumped into conversation defending gay people when they hear homophobia in class, in the cafeteria, in their lives. All of this made me even stronger. Now, I own my sexuality more than ever. I look back and I can't believe how long it took me to get here but then I shake it off and remind myself that I'm here…at least. I owe my sexuality with pride with hope that my youth discover acceptance through me, or for themselves by seeing me be the proud fag that I am. My best friend today is still my best friend and we never been closer.   One last thing, Shout out to my youth program Creative Action 2017! Some of the most woke young people I ever had the privilege of working with. David M. Gauna, Chicago, Illinois Interviewed and photographed by: Louie A. Ortiz-Fonseca

[jessicakehoe]

An Insider’s Guide to Toronto Pride

This upcoming Sunday marks Toronto’s annual Pride parade, a legendary event where queer people flock from all over Canada to bask in the incredible positive energy radiating through the city. As one of the most highly anticipated events of the year, Toronto’s Pride weekend schedule is packed with everything from sweaty underground dance parties to outdoor drag shows, and just like any other hot ticket event, it can be hard to decide which spaces and events are most worthy of your time. To help narrow down the options, we consulted four Toronto queer creatives and longtime Pride-goers on how they’ll be spending the upcoming weekend. Here’s what they had to say.

Michael Zoffranieri: Fashion Designer, ZOFF

Pronouns: He/him

Photography by Victor Rusu

What I love about Toronto Pride.

Pride means community: the people we get to call family, and how we get to celebrate our love for ourselves and for each other, together.

Why it’s important for me to participate.

Pride is important for celebration, but moreso being resistant to things that affect LGBTQ2SA+ folks. We will not stand for discrimination, hate, and hurt. As people of this world, we must collectively push for better treatment of human life. We must resist values that are hurtful, and heal together.

The events I’m looking forward to this year.

I’m looking forward to the Green Space Festival, the outdoor party at the 519 (519 Church St.) that goes all weekend, being with my chosen and bio family, and the memories to be made.

My best advice for conquering Pride weekend.

Wear whatever you want! Keep backpacks to a minimum, or opt for a waist pack/cross body bag. Have someone to be your touchstone, and be someone’s touchstone: safety is about letting people know where you are. Head to Smith for a Saint Germain and Prosecco cocktail: just north of Wellesley and Church, it’s a great place to stop in for a cocktail or brunch or both. For a bite, Mengrai Thai is an awesome place just steps away from Church. It’s a short walk from the Village, and a wonderful place to spend time with loved ones. For veg/vegan/kosher friends: Rosalinda (Richmond and York) is a great place for fresh Mexican, and a cocktail… Classic, or otherwise for those who don’t indulge in alcohol.

Gigi Gorgeous: Activist, Author & Digital Creator (and Grand Marshall of Toronto’s 2019 Pride parade!)

Pronouns: She/her

View this post on Instagram

howdy y’all🤗

A post shared by GIGI GORGEOUS 👸🏼 (@gigigorgeous) on Apr 29, 2019 at 5:12pm PDT

What I love about Toronto Pride.

Toronto is where I experienced my first Pride when I was a teenager, it’s my hometown and the best city in the world. Pride in Toronto is my favorite time of year. Everyone comes together and celebrates, and there is so much pride here in the community. It’s really special.

Why it’s important for me to participate.

Gigi: To me, Pride means coming together,  supporting each other, embracing our differences and celebrating. We have come so far in the last 50 years since the Stonewall Uprising, but we still have a lot of work to do to achieve full equality in the world. It is such an honour and a privilege to be able to participate in Pride Toronto and to be the Grand Marshal.

The events I’m looking forward to this year.

All of it! Every event and party and rally is so amazing and inspiring. This year, I am specifically looking forward to the Trans March at 3pm on June 21st.

My best advice for conquering Pride weekend.

Wear comfortable shoes, hydrate, and have the best time! Most importantly, remember what Pride means. It isn’t just about the parties. It’s about how far we have come as a community and honoring those who have fought before us to pave the way for us to live our lives freely and openly. And don’t forget to bring the looks! Stay gorgeous and happy pride, everyone!

  Rachel Romu, Musician/Model

Pronouns: (They/them)

View this post on Instagram

🚨SHOW ANNOUNCEMENT🚨 SAT. JAN. 19 | SET: 9:00PM EST | DOORS: 8:30PM EST | $5 | C'EST WHAT? | 67 FRONT ST. E.⁣ ⁣ I'm playing a stripped down set with @itslaflamme for a show put together by @jprolee in support of @youthlinkto 's Tyler McGill Music Program, which offers free music lessons to Scarborough youth⁣ ⁣ 📷: @liamracine for @itsjunkonline ⁣ 💄: @abella.u & @bullchicbeauty ⁣ 👗: @tiger_____lily ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⁣

A post shared by RACHEL ROMU (@rachelromu) on Jan 9, 2019 at 6:18pm PST

What I love about Toronto Pride.

The community. Personally, it’s a space in which all facets of myself can exist openly and freely, without question. This makes room for vulnerability, meaningful connections, and a deeper understanding of one another.

Why it’s important for me to participate.

Because my disability is visible, it influences how I move through the world and am perceived by others; conversely, my identity as a queer person often exists in silence. Participating is owning that part of me and showing that part of me.

What Pride means to me. It means protest. It means discarding social conventions. It means freedom. It means acknowledging the trans women of colour who spearheaded the movements that have made it so LGBTQ2SIA+ folks have the rights we do (though there is still a ways to go).

The events I’m looking forward to this year.

I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and use a mixture of mobility aids to get around, so it’s important to me to that Pride events prioritize accessibility. In accessible queer spaces, I feel that all parts of me are welcomed, free, and safe. On Friday June 21st, I’ll be heading to the Trans March and show where T. Thomason (winner of The Launch), and Babia Majora and Fluffy Souflee of F*CK SHT UP Trans & Non-Binary Cabaret will be performing. This stage is QTPOC focused which I personally think is super amazing due to Pride’s origins. Also, having played the first ever trans stage last year at Pride as a non-binary person was meaningful as heck and I am so happy to see this stage’s growth!

Also, Come As You Are, an art show celebrating queer artists of colour taking place on until June 22nd. The space is not accessible but the show highlight individuals who have pride in navigating their identity, through their interpretations of art.

My best advice for conquering Pride weekend.

Wear sunscreen & re-apply! Drink more water than you think you need (also soda water to replenish salts you sweat out!) It’s okay to take breaks, rest as needed, and stay in if it would be self-care. It’s okay to not go at all, your identity is still valid regardless of whether you are able to participate

  Sebastiano Bazzichetto: PhD and Founder and Editor-in-Chief of The Yellow Gloves

Pronouns: He/him or His Lordship

View this post on Instagram

Galvanizing Baroque Mornings • "Brilla nell'Alma un non inteso ancor dolce contento e d'alta Gioia il Cor soave inonda. Sì nella Calma azzurro brilla il Mar se splende il Sole e i Rai fan tremolar tranquilla l'Onda… Shines in the Soul an inexplicable yet sweet Happiness, and the highest Joy of my Heart sweetly flows. And thus, in the calm, brightly blue is the Sea when the Sun shines and its Rays tenderly shake the Waves…" • Blessed . . . . . . . . . #happiness #blessed #bonheur #verygoodfriday #gayboy #waves #wavyhair #Baroque #music #Händel #operaarias #operafan #melomane #operalover #yellow #book #lips #marble #ralph #gayto #the6 #castadiva #nofiltersneeded #avenetianintoronto #letmedream #lerêve

A post shared by Sebastiano Bazzichetto (@avenetianintoronto) on Apr 19, 2019 at 6:58am PDT

What I love about Toronto Pride.

In my view, to the LGBTQ2 community Pride is – or should be – like Christmas: it is not important what you do or where, but rather with whom you spend your time. Hence, like at Christmas, to me it is vital to celebrate Pride with my queer family: friends, allies, acolytes and lovers. And in Toronto this is not a hard task: we live after all in one of the queerest cities I’ve ever resided in my life!

  Why it’s important for me to participate.

It is a vibrant moment to celebrate life, diversity and cultural understanding. To come together as a community that is part of a larger community, but still presents some peculiar factors and features, besides having its own particular history of protests, sexual revolutions and epidemics and so forth.

The events I’m looking forward to this year.

I mostly like big events in large venues, where you can meet a lot of new people and share your joy and personal experience as an LGBTQ2 individual. I am very fond of the final parade: a multifarious display of colours, beyond the rainbow, transcending our mortal existence, aiming for a higher universal value in terms of human beings.

I’ll join some of the events organized by the Alternative Pride, its DIY dance garden-themed party in a gallery and the Backdoor Toronto Pride Villa Party in a secret location. For sure, I won’t miss the Green Space Festival, this year with its TreeHouse circuit party at the CNE Bandshell. And of course, my Prunch: for many years now, I have hosted a brunch for Pride (therefore Prunch), inviting friends to get together (and meet some like-minded ”strangers“), lounge and nibble before heading to the parade on Church. To round out my pride month, I’ll join the crowd at Christie Pits, to watch “Rafiki,” lying on the grass under the stars on June 30.

  My best advice for conquering Pride weekend.

It’s gonna be hot and sunny this year: a nice straw hat is the best companion for a long afternoon watching the parade!

TKTKTKT

The post An Insider’s Guide to Toronto Pride appeared first on FASHION Magazine.

An Insider’s Guide to Toronto Pride published first on https://borboletabags.tumblr.com/

[visionaryconnector-blog]

Gone, but Not Off Track

So, it has been a little over a week since my last post, and while I have been gone, it is not because I forgot, but rather it is because I was set to travel a lot and I knew that I would gain something interesting insights, and hopefully things you’d all care to read about. This entry is going to be about the process of meeting with school and community officials, the impact of some of the rhetoric that I hear, my concerns about how social justice is negatively effecting students of color in secondary education, and a potential dissertation topic I’m considering...oh yeah, I’m going to get a Ph.D. 

Meeting Schools and Community Officials

It will never cease to amaze me how little information people actually need to be persuaded, and that isn’t always a good thing. I have traveled a lot of places, and met a lot of people and I have learned one important reality already: people are just grasping at anything they can to support minority youth in Minnesota...well almost anything...because their curriculum, cultural approach to educating them, focusing on building true competency in their teachers, having an administration that reflects their goals, and garnering community support aren’t on this list of “we tried everything” in some of the communities I have traveled to. (Steps Off of Soapbox)  Anyway, I wanted to give you all my approach to interacting with people and increasing their likelihood of saying “yes” when I come to pitch the program to them. When I arrive, I make sure to get a sense of how people are feeling, in my last meeting, I met some delightful people in a Western Suburb of Minneapolis, they seemed to really care about the students, and as a whole were among the most honest about the failures of the state of Minnesota (the state the requires the most credentials for school administrators) to educate non-white students. The numbers are so abysmal, that one has only three options: 1. Own it, 2. Blame someone else, 3. Denial (what failure?). They, however, were refreshing and seemed genuinely interested in finding ways to help the students. 

So, I begin my meeting introductions, myself, my role, and my goals. At this time, I also take the time for thanking them for taking their time to meet with me (and I am actually grateful because I need them to get my work done). I outline to them that I will not begin with selling my program, I would rather begin with a set of questions that will help me get a sense of what they are already doing, how their school functions, the make up of their community, and their school and community attitudes toward outside help, and particularly from the University of Minnesota. Once I meticulously compile what they tell me, I thank them and then restate what they said (in a conversational way - I’m not selling vacuums after all). I do this, usually by commenting on something I really loved, or asking for clarification to signal to them that I listened and understand what they are saying. 

I then begin to discuss the program, but I speak about how the program can serve the areas that they discussed and make connections without hitting the landmines. Following that, I give them a vision for where I would like this to go, about my sincerity to serve their students and support the work that they are doing for the kids that are most underserved. At this point, I have them, how could I not? I affirmed them, and then pledged to use my time and resources to help them with no additional cost, and a minimal time commitment outside of helping me to set it up and vertically integrate into the district. We set our timetable to meet again, what tasks we will do next, and I set a time to reconvene because that is just needed. 

The Rhetoric 

Ok, so for the most part this blog has been pretty cordial and academic...I will be taking a different approach on this section. I’m going to be much more of myself, and if you know me and we’ve had these conversations, you know exactly what I mean. 

Black Role Models and African American boys and Young Men

At times when I have conversations in this area, I feel like I’m transported back to the late 1990s and early 2000s. I hear phrases like “African America males aren’t succeeding because they don’t have black male roles models,” and I smile and nod and then think BULL****! While I recognize the importance of role models, people don’t recognize that making that statement is the attempt to blame the victim for their own victim hood. It’s a circular argument that doesn’t question the root of that problem. 

Everyday I drive past the road Philando Castile was murdered on, that man from all reports was an upstanding man in the community, he was doing what he was asked, and was still killed by a police officer (who has been charged with a slew of crimes stemming from that shooting), the man isn’t present to be a role model by not choice of his own. We can see over and over, there are perfectly acceptable men that we gloss over everyday because we want to have sizzle; we want to project that success looks like this. So these communities walk past the black construction worker, and they come to me with my tie and sweater vest and master’s degree and say we need more like you. Except, I was raised by a garbage man and a church administrator. These were the people that they didn’t look for. Anyway, I say all of this to say that the “lack” of success of African American boys and young men still has a lot to do with a putative education system, horrific distribution of wealth that (by the most recent numbers) shows black people make between $45k to $230k less over their life time of working (even with the same credentials and skills as white people). Their success is rooted in a school system that sees them as a problem to solve, and views them as so “other” that they do not take the kind of care to help them that is necessary for basic development. 

I am not insinuating that there are not areas that black men could contribute, but these notion that we are to blame solely for the failure of our boys is a tragedy in that we are as much effected by the same forces as they are. 

The “Achievement Gap” 

I have already heard this more times than my stomach wants to, this is one of the most ridiculous things that I have to listen to everyday. Minnesota is REALLY good at education...if you’re white, and in bottom of the bottom when it comes to students of color. Naturally, instead of taking any responsibility for an educational system that obvious has a cultural limitation, we say the minoritized people just not “achieving” the same. Whether or not anyone wants to admit it, that is an insidious BLAME THE VICTIM statement. These students aren’t scoring where we want them to be, so it must be a problem with them; but no not REALLY wants to investigate a problem that has such uniform outcomes. 

There is a discussion about a thing called the “belief gap” the idea that teachers and administrators don’t fundamentally believe minoritized kids can be successful, so they don’t invest in them in the ways that bring out their best potential. This is a possible culprit, but I actually think it may be something more subtle than that, and I will discuss that later...yet, I did just give you a cliff hanger so that you’ll still read.

Wrapping up the Rhetoric

I could go on for days, but I won’t, I am frustrated to no end by the fact that I feel like I went back in time and we are having conversations that demand respectability politics. I have spoken to so many African American men that want the boys to get hair cuts and wear suits and they launch projects to “show people a different image of black men.” I shake my head, we just watched probably the objectively most respectable black man that we could have collectively known in Barack Obama be ridiculed, and heckled for 8 years as the PRESIDENT: respectability isn’t going to save them. 

I indent to take my OneWin message anywhere people are willing to hear it, we have to re-center ourselves in our own narrative. We cannot continue to allow the perceptions (or fears of perceptions of others) cause us to spend the majority of our time trying to convince white folks of our value, when we can just be convinced of our value and allow them to deal with their own feelings about us. At some point, if we want to change this situation, our rhetoric has to change. They can achieve just fine, there are enough black men to be role models, and we need to stop this impetus to make them more respectable and just teach them how to respect themselves. 

Social Justice: How Discussing Privilege is a Privilege

“White guilt is still more valuable to some than the lives and opportunities of our children...but hey...they can just chalk it up to their achievement gap and lack of role models, instead of seeing how white kids are not routinely subject to being held hostage in intellectual disputes about why teachers have to treat them like people.”

I have been watching how the discussion of privilege is all the rage. In my higher ed circles, the “check your privilege” movements and such are happening. Now, I won’t argue that it’s important to educate people on privilege but that appears to be where most folks stop, and well, that’s a privilege. lol 

Why do I say that? Because discussing privilege is important, and getting people to understand that is important, but it is literally tearing the St. Paul school district a part of because people were just walking around feeling like they were racist, but were not engaged in any tangible way to begin to address the issues. Now, the people doing these trainings aren’t usually people of color, and whether or not people will admit it, the “big time” diversity trainer are almost always queer white women, and no one wants to have a discussion about how how conversations about other people are not the same as having conversations WITH those people. Anyway, this privilege movement, making sure every white person knew they were privileged has resulted in resentment toward people of color...because you know, that makes sense. 

What is even more kind of...um...idiotic about all of it, is that we have one of the foremost scholars in the world related to culturally responsive education here at the University of Minnesota (another reason why respectability doesn’t work) a minoritized professor is a foremost scholar on something that could solve a massive problem...nah...we’ll just resent kids instead.

The long and short of it is, Social Justice folks need to begin to find a way to add some teeth and real scholarship and tangible outcomes to their trainings (I am speaking to this specific context), because it is literally resulting in fractured futures for children because white guilt is still more valuable to some than the lives and opportunities of our children...but hey...they can just chalk it up to their achievement gap and lack of role models, instead of seeing how white kids are not routinely subject to being held hostage in intellectual disputes about why teachers have to treat them like people. 

I’m Getting a Ph.D. 

So, that leads me into my dissertation topic...I’m thinking of looking at these sorts of rifts and to see if they exist in predominantly white communities. I am so intrigued now by the question as to whether white kid’s lives and educations are routinely caught in the middle of intellectual squabbling over their personhood. 

I am going to pursue a Ph.D. in Executive Organizational Leadership, Development, and Policy.