Watch These Guys Unknowingly Catcall Their Own Moms And Get An Embarrassing Lesson On Harassment.
Constance…it is about a 5 minute investment to watch this extremely well-made video…
Please do, and then send it on to anyone who engages in similar depravity and oppression.
M’aimeras-tu toujours quand je serai trop vieille
Avec plein de rides, que mes seins tomberont
Sous mon corps sage et que mes mains trembleront
Dis me chanteras-tu encore des merveilles.
M’aimeras-tu toujours quand fanera ma fleur
Que ma vue baissera à l’ardeur des étoiles
Et que l’hiver sur moi aura mis son grand voile
Dis feras-tu encore une fois battre mon cœur.
M’aimeras-tu toujours quand ma peau fripera
Que mes cheveux seront aussi blancs que la neige
Que sur mes yeux l’automne aura mis son cortège
Dis pourrais-je à jamais me poser sur tes pas.
M’aimeras-tu toujours quand l’ombre sera fébrile
Que le temps signera de noir mes insomnies
Que l’ocre de ma plume obscurcira ma vie
Dis voudras-tu de moi même si je suis fragile.
M’aimeras-tu toujours quand faiblira ma voix
Et que mes oreilles seront dans le silence
Que le jour et la nuit n’auront plus de nuance
Dis mon amour voudras-tu encore de moi ?
Mystic4Ever
Le 18 Mai 2010
So my baby just told me “Baby, there are times when you are so a teen-age girl!” Wait, whaaa??? Giggles…she is right, of course.
I saw this thing I am posting below, and sooo relate to it, from a gender perspective. The act of solidarity and love is profound and lasting…the phase will likely pass as an aspect of growing.
Constance…be sure your actions strengthen what remains rather than what is transitory.
Trans people shouldn’t have to “get over” being called by their birth name.
Mistakes are human, but keep in mind that they hurt, especially when it comes to identities.
Here is something I ran across at http://everydayfeminism.com/2014/10/people-resist-affirmative-consent/
“enjoy…” *Charissa speaks tongue firmly in cheek*
[Trigger Warning: rape, sexual assault]
Originally published on Lefty Cartoons and cross-posted here with their permission.
Only have sex with people who’ve given enthusiastic, willful, and uninfluenced consent. Seems straightforward, right?
But there are still plenty of people who object to this definition of consensual sex.
Why? Because they value being able to have sex more than their partner’s consent.
Check out this comic for a perfect example of what these conversations look like.
To learn more about rape culture and consent, check out the following:
Barry Deutsch is the Portland-based author and cartoonist of Ampersand, a political comic with a generally progressive sensibility. A new Ampersand comic appears in every issue of Dollars and Sense Magazine. Barry attended Oberlin College in Ohio in the late 1980s, the School of Visual Arts in New York City in the 1990s (where he took classes from comics legend Will Eisner), and graduated from Portland State University several years ago. While at PSU, his political cartoons won the Charles M. Schulz Award. His current comics project is my comic book Hereville, a fantasy adventure comic about an 11-year-old Jewish girl. Check out his blogand follow him on Twitter @barrydeutsch.
Wow…Constance, this is the way that we all ought to treat one another. I have been treated this way by some people…and I go home, and shed tears of joy and happiness. It feels so good to be accepted for me…just lil me.
You can all imagine the opposite…because you have all experienced it.
Ever wonder why that is? Why is it that we have all been othered, policed, and ostracized over something? Even the so-called “cool kids” who are usually the worst open graves of horror inside their own hearts…
Let’s follow this wonderful child, this avatar of our God’s Goodness and Love.
Constance…there is a plethora of provoking proclamations this morning! I am pasting here the transcript to a talk given by Ash Beckham, in which she eloquently discusses “polarity vs duality” in regards to our being as humans sharing a common existential experience as expressed in a wonderful variety of ways…many faceted wonder.
The part that I put in blue text is the part that resonated particularly deep with me.
Oh…and her rhetorical question “Have you ever been called something that you’re not” and then her own recounting of how she felt? Daily experience for me. Just sayin.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Ash Beckham
September 2014 Boulder, Colorado
Ash Beckham: This summer I was back in Ohio for a family wedding, and when I was there, there was a meet-and-greet with Anna and Elsa from “Frozen.” Now, not the Anna and Elsa from “Frozen,” as this was not a Disney-sanctioned event. These two entrepreneurs had a business of running princess parties. Your kid turning 5? They’ll come sing some songs, sprinkle some fairy dust. It’s great. And they were not about to miss out on the opportunity that was the phenomenon that was “Frozen.”
So they get hired by a local toy store. Kids come in on a Saturday morning, buy some Disney sway, get their picture taken with the princesses, call it a day. It’s like Santa Claus without the seasonal restrictions. And my 3 1/2 year old niece, Samantha, was in the thick of it. She could care less that these two women were signing posters and coloring books as “Snow Queen” and Princess Ana with one n to avoid copyright lawsuits. According to my niece and the 200 kids in the parking lot that day, this was the Anna and Elsa from “Frozen.”
So let me paint the picture. It is a blazing hot Saturday morning in August in Ohio. We get there at 10:00, the scheduled start time, and we are handed number 59. By 11:00, they have called numbers 21 through 25. This was going to be a while, and there is no amount to free face painting and temporary tattoos that could prevent the meltdowns that were occurring outside of this store. So, by 12:30 we get called. “56-63, please.” And as we walk in, it is a scene I can only describe to you as saying it looked like Norway threw up. There were cardboard cutout snowflakes covering the floor, glitter on every flat surface, and icicles all over the walls.
And as we stood in line, in an attempt to give my niece a better vantage point than the backside of the mother of number 58, I put her on my shoulders and she was instantly riveted by the sight of the princesses. And as we moved forward, her excitement only grew. And as we finally got to the front of the line and number 58 unfurled her poster to be signed by the princesses, I could literally feel the excitement running through her body. And let’s be honest, at that point I was pretty excited, too. I mean, the Scandinavian decadence was mesmerizing.
So we get to the front of the line, and the haggard clerk turns to my niece and says, “Hi, honey. You’re next. Do you want to get down or are you going to stay on your dad’s shoulders for the picture?” And I was, for lack of a better word, frozen.
Hello my name is ?
It’s amazing that in an unexpected instant we are faced with the question, “Who am I?” Am I an aunt or am I an advocate? Millions of people have seen my video about how to have a hard conversation, and there one was right in front of me. At the same time, there’s nothing more important to me than the kids in my life, so I found myself in a situation that we so often find ourselves in — torn between two things, two impossible choices.
Would I be an advocate? Would I take my niece off my shoulders and turn to the clerk, and explain to her that I was, in fact, her aunt not her father and that she should be more careful and not jump to gender conclusions based on haircuts and shoulder rides, and while doing that, miss out on what is at this point the greatest moment of my niece’s life?
Or would I be an aunt? Would I brush off that comment, take a million pictures, and not be distracted for an instant from the pure joy of that moment? And by doing that, walk out with the shame that comes up from not standing up for myself, especially in front of my niece. Who was I? Which one was more important? Which role was more worth it? Was I an aunt or was I an advocate? And I had a split second to decide.
Us/Them
We are taught right now that we are living in a world of constant and increasing polarity. It’s so black and white, so us and them, so right and wrong. There is no middle, there is no gray, just polarity.
Polarity po-ler-e-te Noun 1. A state in which two ideas or opinions are completely opposite from each other 1. Diametrical opposition
Polarity is a state in which two ideas or opinions are completely opposite from each other, diametrical opposition.
Which side are you on? Anti War – Pro Choice – Anti Death Penalty – Pro Gun Regulation – Open borders – Pro Union or Pro War – Pro Life – Pro Death Penalty – Pro 2nd Amendment – Anti Immigrant – Pro Big Business
Which side are you on? Are you unequivocally and without question anti-war, pro-choice, anti-death penalty, pro-gun regulation, proponent of open borders, and pro-union? Or are you absolutely and uncompromisingly pro-war, pro-life, pro-death penalty, believe that the second amendment is absolute, anti-immigrant, and pro-business? It’s all or none. You’re with us or against us. That is polarity.
Now, the problem with polarity in absolute is that it eliminates the individuality of our human experience, and that makes it contradictory to our human nature. But if we’re pulled in these two directions but it’s not really where exist — polarity is not our actual reality — where do we go from there? What’s at the other end of that spectrum?
Duality du-a-le-te Noun 1. A state of having two parts 2. Simultaneous existence
And I don’t think that it’s unattainable harmonious utopia. I think the opposite of polarity is duality. Now, duality is a state of having two parts but not in diametrical opposition — in simultaneous existence. Don’t think it’s possible? Here are the people I know. I know Catholics that are pro-choice and feminists who wear hijabs and veterans who are anti-war and NRA members who think I should be able to get married.
Those are the people I know. Those are my friends and family. That is the majority of our society. That is you. That is me. Duality is the ability to hold both things, but the question is can we own our duality? Can we have the courage to hold both things?
So I work at a restaurant in town and became really good friends with the busser. I was a server, and we had a great relationship. We had a really great time together. Her Spanish was great because she was from Mexico. That line actually went the other way. Her English was limited but significantly better than my Spanish. But we were united by our similarities not separated by our differences.
And we were close even though we came from two very different worlds. She was from Mexico. She left her family behind so she could come here and afford them a better life back home. She was devout, conservative Catholic, a believer in traditional family values, stereotypical roles of men and women. And I was, well, me. But the things that bonded us were when she asked me about my girlfriend or she shared pictures that she had from her family back home. Those were the things that brought us together.
So one day we were in the back scarfing down food as quickly as we could, gathered around a small table during a very rare lull. And a new guy from the kitchen came over, who happened to be her cousin, and sat down with all the bravado and machismo that his 20-year-old body could hold. And he said to her “Does Ash have a boyfriend?” And she said “No, she has a girlfriend.” And he said, “A Girlfriend?!” And she set down her fork and locked eyes with him and said “Yes, a girlfriend. That is all.”
And his smug smile quickly dropped to one of maternal respect, grabbed his plate, walked off, went back to work. She never made eye contact with me. She left, did the same thing. It was a 10 second conversation, just a short interaction. And on paper she had so much more in common with him — language, culture, history, family. Her community was her lifeline here. But her moral compass trumped all of that. And a little bit later they were joking around in the kitchen in Spanish that had nothing to do with me, and that is duality. She didn’t have to choose some PC stance on gayness over her heritage.
She didn’t have to choose her family over our friendship. It was not Jesus or Ash. Her individual morality was so strongly rooted that she had the courage to hold both things. Our moral integrity is our responsibility, and we must be prepared to defend it even when it’s not convenient. That’s what it means to be an ally, and if you’re going to be an ally you have to be an active ally. Ask questions, act when you hear something inappropriate, actually engage.
I had a family friend who, for years, used to call my girlfriend my lover. Really? Lover? So overly sexual. So ’70s gay porn. But she was trying, and she asked. And she could have called her my friend or my “friend” or my special friend or even worse just not asked at all. Believe me, we would rather have you ask. I would rather have you say “lover” than say nothing at all.
People often say to me, “Well, Ash, I don’t care. I don’t see race or religion or sexuality. It just, it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t see it.” But I think the opposite of homophobia and racism and xenophobia is not love, it’s apathy. If you don’t see my gayness, then you don’t see me. If it doesn’t matter to you who I sleep with, then you cannot imagine what it feels like when I walk down the street late at night holding her hand and approach a group of people and have to make the decision if I should hang on or I should drop it when all I want to do is squeeze it tighter. And the small victory I feel when I make it by and don’t have to let go. And the incredible cowardice and disappointment I feel when I drop it.
If you do not see that struggle that is unique to my human experience because I am gay, then you don’t see me. If you are going to be an ally, I need you to see me. As individuals, as allies, as humans we need to be able to hold both things. Both the good and the bad, the easy and the hard. You don’t learn how to hold two things just from the fluff, you learn it from the grit. And what if duality is just the first step? What if through compassion and empathy and human interaction we are able to learn to hold two things? And if we can hold two things we can hold four. And if we can hold four we can hold eight. And if we can hold eight we can hold hundreds. We are complex individuals swirls of contradictions. You are all holding so many things right now. What can you do to hold just a few more?
So, back to Toledo, Ohio. I’m at the front of the line, niece on my shoulders, the frazzled clerk calls me “dad.” Have you ever been mistaken for the wrong gender? Then, not even that. Have you ever been called something you are not? Here’s what it feels like for me. I am instantly an internal storm of contrasting emotions. I break out into a sweat that is a combination of rage and humiliation. I feel like the entire store is staring at me, and I simultaneously feel invisible. I want to explode in a tirade of fury and I want to crawl under a rock.
And top all of that off with the frustration that I am wearing an out-of-characteristic, tight-fitting purple t-shirt, so this whole store can see my boobs, to make sure this exact same thing doesn’t happen. But, despite my best efforts to be seen as the gender I am, it still happened. I hope with every ounce of my body that no one here heard. Not my sister, not my girlfriend, and certainly not my niece. I am accustomed to this familiar hurt, but I will do whatever I need to do to protect the people I love from it.
But then I take my niece off my shoulders, and she runs to Elsa and Anna, the thing she’s been waiting so long for. And all that stuff goes away. All that mattered is the smile on her face. And, as the 30 seconds that we waited 2 hours for, comes to a close, we gather up our things, and I lock eyes with the clerk again. And she gives me an apologetic smile and mouths, “I’m so sorry.” And her humanity, her willingness to admit her mistake, disarms me immediately, and I give her a, “It’s OK. It happens,” type of thing.
And I realize in that moment that I don’t have to be either an aunt or an advocate. I can be both. I can live in duality, and I can hold two things. And if I can hold two things in that environment, I can hold so many more things. And as my girlfriend and my niece hold hands and skip out the front of the door, I turn to my sister and say, “Was it worth it?” And she said, “Are you kidding me? Did you see the look on her face? This was the greatest day of her life. It was worth 2 1/2 hours in the heat. It was worth the overpriced coloring book that we already had a copy of. It was even worth you getting called ‘Dad.'” And for the first time ever in my life, it actually was. Thank you, Boulder. Have a good night.
TEDxBoulder is Supported by Applied Trust
END TRANSCRIPT
There may be small errors in this transcript.
Police search for clues in murder of transgender woman in Texas – LGBTQ Nation.
Constance, I am sure you already know about this crime, and so my posting it here is redunda…oh wait…of course you haven’t heard about it yet!
It is just a “so-called transgender woman”…poor thing just got what she deserved.
Nope…nothing wrong here. Move along, move along.
Obviously, I was writing sarcastically to expose the reality of the underlying assumptions that empower the continued lack of it being any sort of an agenda item to protect the rights and well-being of transgender people.
And the count rolls on…good thing we have a transgender remembrance day so her death will not be in vain, right? She can now serve as a lil tidbit for the cis-gender world to consume as an assuagement of conscience! A lil “transgender tums” to relieve the indigestion caused by the wanton devouring of transgender people.
Do JUSTICE
Love MERCY
Walk HUMBLY
Idaho Chief of Police Mic Drops On Transgender ‘Bathroom’ Bill Section.
Good Morning Constance…
I am pressing this article here on Grace Notes for a couple of reasons: the low hanging fruit here, of course, is the putting on blatant naked display the kind of ignorance and misogyny that transgender people face…but specifically transgender women face to a far larger degree than transgender men do. As I read the kinds of assumptions that are made and asserted, I am astounded at the towering lack of knowledge and the even deeper unwillingness to be educated about the issue.
But let’s dig a bit deeper here…note that the primary canard that is hysterically hurled over and over again is that “men” want to rape women, and so they will go to any length to engage in this violation, including “dressing up as a woman”, entering a bathroom, and then feasting like a wolf on defenseless denizens within. Thus we cannot risk allowing transgender women to use the women’s restrooms, but will force them into men’s restrooms…
…Constance, did you catch that assumption that slides right by and gets a nod of tacit agreement? And did you see the inherent contradiction that is actually supported by documented epidemic-like numbers?
The assumption is that men are creatures with one primal driving force in their lives…having sex. Even if it means taking sex from unwilling females who are just in the general vicinity. The assumption is that we need to build our society around this reality and do our best to just “limit the damage” caused by this basic fact about men.
Rape is institutionalized as an accepted feature of our society!
Rather than deal with that underlying horror and the cultural constructs that have given rise to the unspoken reality that men not only take what they want sexually but are entitled to this taking, we instead get ourselves all twisted up over the bathroom. Rather than teach our little boys how to be real human beings and what being male means, and what it does not mean, we just sort of wring our hands and hide our eyes when the moon is full and hope the werewolf stays away from our door.
We are fully capable of this teaching…if: if anyone really knew anymore what it means to be a man! What does that mean, men? To you…what does it mean to be a man? And, as part of your journey of discovery, have you ever inquired of women what being a man means? Have you ever even thought to seek some of your self-definition in the understanding and grappling with what it means to be a woman?
See how this would preclude rape as an even slightly acceptable option for men?
But no…this is not what we do with that subject of rape: we continue to keep it disconnected from the poison and demonic roots from which it sprang, and those are the roots of patriarchy and male privilege. Women already know this, men, but for your own education…ask any woman you know what kinds of situations does she feel safe from the possibility of being raped. Ask yourselves how you have socialized your own daughters regarding dress, safety in public places, when to be outdoors and when to be home “safe”. Ask any woman if they think they are made safe from the possibility of being raped just because transgender women are kept from the right restrooms…
And that leads us to a deeper reality: the reality, backed up by the blood and tears and horror and even murder of transgender women…who have been forced into men’s restrooms and there been harassed, assaulted, raped, and left for dead (if they are lucky) or murdered outright! This is an actual fact that happens hundreds of times a year. The dynamic I wrote of in the preceding section of my essay here is given free reign! As a society we are demanding that some women be placed into serious jeopardy to their very beings and existence…because we refuse to deal with the horror of rape as a feature of the patriarchal paradigm we are all enslaved by.
It is another example of how rape is sanctioned as part of the price that must be paid by women in order for all men to retain their granted privilege…and the really awful thing about this particular expression of this blood-spattered reality is the sad result on display of how some women become collaborators with the paradigm: they would rather consign their transgender sisters to this fate than stand against the oppression and iron-fist of the patriarchy! This is a phenomenon not unlike how certain Jews collaborated with the Nazis in the hopes that they would then be left alone and unharmed.
It is a Mephistophelian bargain…the soul is lost in the gaining of a few untroubled hours. Sadly, it puts the pervasive infestation of the patriarchy’s insidious distortions of masculinity and femininity on furious display! And the fruits…rotten, poison, despairing.
But now I want to get to the deepest reality for transgender people and specifically transgender women: the deepest reality for me.
When people rant and rave in public hearings such as happened at the one the article speaks of, they communicate to me that I am utterly worthless of knowing, inquiring of, or understanding.
They blatantly display their own ignorance, assumption, and unwillingness to have those things enlightened and transformed!
I can tell you that when I read about what they think I want to do in the restroom, I am staggered with the mainifestations of their own evil imaginations of things that have literally never entered my heart at any time…and then I am defeated by the weights of ignorance and unwillingness that press down, inexorable and unrelenting.
All of the ignorance about transgender is displayed as if it is a float at the Rose Parade, and then it is lauded and institutionalized…and the marginalization of an oppressed segment of people is further cemented.
There is a logical question that comes to mind, as we work our way thru the house of mirrors that is the current paradigm, and that is this: Why not make a place for transgender people to testify at these hearings…to say why they want to use the bathroom of their choice? After all, that is what happens at other hearings of any kind: testimony is sought from all parties interested and affected, so why not here?
Ahh…you follow me, don’t you? Because our perspective is considered invalid at best and insidious at worst. We do not have any valid standing in this present paradigm. We are human chattel, and need to be either “fixed”, “healed”, “delivered”, or forced to “repent of the sin of being created transgender”.
And what is worse? Even if there was a forum offered us to testify, very few of us would come forward…because that would be to make ourselves visible, and incur the wrath of family, so-called friends, and virtual strangers. From that moment on we would hear the snickers when we walked by, the shouted insults and slurs, the out and out hatred blazing from the eyes of people who have never even talked to us but somehow know we are “bad” because they know we are transgender.
So, sadly…we hang back. We stay silent…and suffer.
Listen: if you know of a transgender person, take some time to get to know them. Talk to them, and not with an agenda. Treat them the way you yourself would like to be treated. Use their name. I can tell you this: when people use my name it is the most gentle and tender healing in my soul.
Hey…we just want to breathe, like anyone else…and use the bathroom when we need to potty.
Do Justice. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly.
Charissa Grace
Charissa's Grace Notes 
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