I think this article is must reading to understand the actions of a very important figure in our time.
Kanye West wants freedom—white freedom.
Source: Ta-Nehisi Coates: Kanye West in the Age of Donald Trump – The Atlantic
I think this article is must reading to understand the actions of a very important figure in our time.
Kanye West wants freedom—white freedom.
Source: Ta-Nehisi Coates: Kanye West in the Age of Donald Trump – The Atlantic
Hi. If you are someone from my past and you read here, I want you to know something. You are welcome to read here. If you are someone from my past, and you are genuinely open to learning new things…
Source: To All From My Past Who Read Here | Charissa’s Grace Notes
I am re-posting this today…it is particularly apt this week.
Smokers…is it worth it?
Constance…
A while back I posted a page called “Help Charissa Transition”. I have not pushed it whatsoever, but wanted to have it there. I have been blessed by a couple of contributions, and they mean so much to me that someone believes in me that much.
But I wanted to bring it up…as I have recently passed 500 followers, and the issue of being a trans-ally is a hot one right now, what with Qs about what can be done that demonstrates being an ally.
Well…here is sumfin to think about: if each of you contributed $100.00 (which is about 10 hours of work at minimum wage), the fund would swell to $50,000.00…and just like that all the othering and obstacle of gate-keeping insurance companies is overcome and I would be able to get my Gender Confirmation surgery.
If each of you contributed 10.00…well, I could begin some of the FFS surgeries that I would greatly benefit from.
And if you gave more, the balance that I did not need for my own surgeries would be donated to a few trans-women that I am connected to.
I think things like this will be the future, ways to do and to be what is needed in spite of the way that the system seeks to other us.
Just think about it…perhaps it is foregoing Starbies for a month…or skipping dinner out 2x, or…fill in the blank.
And thanks for even thinking about it, btw…it is exciting to contemplate and dream about.
…by the movie “Donnie Darko.”
That you liked it so much mystified me, and it was the first inkling that we lived two different lives, in 2 different realities.
and this man was/is revered by so many…and yet, the emptiness, the ache…
I really admire Jay Z for this. I have a feeling about this man…I think Mama sees depths and distances in him that he himself only has hints of.
I am hopeful that he doesn’t lose himself along the way and trade his heart in for diamonds…Mama must think very highly of him, as She has placed one of Her queens in his life.
I speak blessing to him, to them…Mama please preserve and metamorphize them!!
Ev
http://nourishedkitchen.com/bone-broth/
Bone broths are given special emphasis among traditional foods circles. Preindustrial societies across the globe have always placed particular and special emphasis on the preparation of the whole animal – and that includes emphasis on using bones for making broth. African tribes placed emphasis on bone broths for babies and small children. In Asia, emphasis is placed on stocks and broths made from fish and fish bones. In Europe, stocks and broths have become the foundation of cooking and are used in not only making soups and stews, but also for preparing reductions, sauces and for braising vegetables and meats.
In traditional foods circles you’ll hear a lot about broth, stock and bone broth – and they’re typically used interchangeably. Bone broth, broth and stock are built on the same basic foundation: water, meat or bones (or both), vegetables and seasonings. As it cooks, the liquid is typically skimmed (although this is not necessary since the scum that rises to the top of the stock pot – off-putting as it is – is a rich source of amino acids) and eventually the solids are removed by straining the stock with a fine-mesh sieve or reusable coffee filter.
Bone broths are extraordinarily rich in nutrients – particularly minerals and amino acids. Bone broths are a good source of amino acids – particularly arginine, glycine and proline. Glycine supports the bodies detoxification process and is used in the synthesis of hemoglobin, bile salts and other naturally-occurring chemicals within the body. Glycine also supports digestion and the secretion of gastric acids. Proline, especially when paired with vitamin C, supports good skin health. Bone broths are also rich in gelatin which improves collagen status, thus supporting skin health. Gelatin also support digestive health which is why it plays a critical role in the GAPS diet. And, lastly, if you’ve ever wondering why chicken soup is good for a cold, there’s science behind that, too. Chicken stock inhibits neutrophil migration; that is, it helps mitigate the side effects of colds, flus and upper respiratory infections. Pretty cool, huh?
Bone broths are easy to prepare at home, very inexpensive (the cost of bones is usually under $2/lb), and are very convenient and simple to make.
Ready to start making bone broth? Start with the recipes below, they all involve the long and slow cooking process that allows for the full release of nutrients – amino acids, gelatin and minerals – from the bones.
My husband and I aim to consume about one quart of bone broth per day, per person. While we start every morning with a mug of broth seasoned with salt, pepper and crushed garlic, we also use bone broth to braise meats and vegetables as well as in soups, sauces and stews.
Bone broth can be stored in the refrigerator for no more than a week. You can also freeze it in ice cube trays, and transfer the frozen cubes of broth to a resealable freezer bag where they will keep for 6 months. Alternatively, consider making Homemade Bouillon.
Typically, all you need to prepare bone broth in your kitchen is a good stock pot or a 6-quart slow cooker and something for straining the broth. To prepare a very clear broth, I recommend straining with a very fine-mesh sieve or a reusable coffee filter (using both in conjunction yields the finest results).
Constance, here is the sad truth: if I was murdered for being trans, I would be blamed, othered, misgendered in my death, and then forgotten as a sad cautionary tale of someone who went cray-cray…and once again the epidemic of hateful absolutely vile demonic murder would continue unchecked by my death any more than the tsunamis are checked by lil old seawalls along the oceanfront.
It is not a joke. It is not just me being shrill.
It is pure unadulterated evil. Killing someone because they do not conform to societal norms.
The post below is my contribution to Transgender Remembrance Day…the blunt and brutal fact that I am worth about as much to towns, communities and society as the dog crap in the street that needs to be cleaned up and disposed of with laws discussed to control the dogs.
Keep on fiddling, Nero…keep on fiddling. You are sawing your own neck in two.
Excerpted from a larger article:
There’s an interesting phenomenon that I’ve witnessed over the past few years. The names of trans women of color will be in the mouths of the queer community after they’ve been murdered, but support for us while we are still alive is sporadic at best. Trans women are pushed out of queer spaces by cis people, dfab genderqueers, and trans men, just to name a few. Women’s spaces are frequently hostile to us because we aren’t “real women” but trans men almost always get a free pass. And I’ve seen more than one cis queer say that trans women are “appropriating” the gay rights movement, totally ignorant of the fact that we started the damn thing. I have seen more than one cis queer say that we have nothing in common with them, that our issues are completely unrelated. We have a hard time finding dates, finding support, finding community. And when we dare to call people out for their transmisogyny, we are labeled crazy, hysterical, divisive. I have been called Austin “queer scene’s” number one enemy. All for daring to share my thoughts on the world around me.
Trans Day of Remembrance is filled to the brim with the names of murdered Black and brown trans women, but is a single evening of remembering enough? And what does it mean that TDoR doesn’t explicitly talk about race and is often dominated by white people? Here in Austin there’s this tradition of calling the names of the dead and then having an audience member sit in a chair that represents where the dead trans woman would sit. The seats are always filled with white people and non-trans women. What do our deaths mean when our bodies, our lives, the physical space we take up, is appropriated by white folks? How can I mourn for my sisters when the space set up for that mourning is so thoroughly colonized? And how can I even see hope of living a full life when I don’t see myself reflected in what is supposed to be my community?
Don’t get me wrong, it’s important to honor those women who came before us, those women murdered by colonial patriarchy. But it seems like more often than not, the queer community at large is content with just remembering. We only hear about trans women after their deaths. And even our deaths are not our own. A week doesn’t go by without a white queer citing the deaths of trans women of color as the evidence of how oppressed they are. These stats are often used in service of their own assimilation; meanwhile, they’re happy to leave us out in the cold. We don’t even have dignity in death, nor the ability to decide what it will mean for us.
Support for trans women dwindles when we are still alive. Nowhere is this clearer than in fundraisers run by and for trans women. There have been some success stories, but they always seem to be few and far between. More often than not, a trans woman’s fundraiser will get a few signal boosts, maybe a couple of dollars and then languish. Meanwhile, trans men’s fundraisers for transition related care often get fully funded. This funding disparity is also clear institutionally, where organizations that focus on the concerns and issues of trans women of color get a miniscule amount of all the money from LGBTQ foundations. This is especially true in the South, where LGBT organizations only get 3-4% of domestic LGBT funding. Again, cis, white, rich institutions are quick to use our murders in their statistics then turn around and spend their money on organizations that look like them: cis, white, and rich. Organizations that push for assimilation.
Obviously financial support isn’t the be all end all action to support trans women of color, but it certainly doesn’t hurt. And the fact that it’s a struggle for trans women to acquire financial assistance is symptomatic of our society’s priorities. It points to who is valuable and who is disposable. At the bottom of this article is a list of fundraisers and organizations for trans women that I would strongly encourage you to support. If you’re not a trans woman and you’re reading this, think long and hard about the ways that you’re supporting trans women in your community. Do you see trans women in public community spaces? How are your actions pushing them out? Don’t think that just giving money nullifies your collusion in transmisogyny. Financial support is important but it is not the only step. As we honor the memory of those girls who have been murdered, ask how you’re helping the living.
In 1937 two women caused a car accident by wearing shorts in public for the first time
I read the following comment on a site where I just spotted this:
No they didn’t. The man driving his car who took his eyes off the road because he was staring at a pair of women caused a car crash. He averted his eyes from the road, he endangered other people and he crashed his own car. This is all the proof you need that we live in a society that blames women for things they didn’t do.
Constance…your assignment for today: think of all the ways that we blame shift in our society…because blame-shifting is such a common thing for humans to do anyway (hey, see Genesis: the woman blames the snake, and then Adam blames the woman, and then blames God too…).
But there are huge ways we do that culturally…rape is a good one to look at. Ways that people are either empowered with entitlement in shifting blame to women for being raped, or ways that women are violated even deeper in that they are made responsible for their own violation.
Race is another one…and the issue of “driving while black, walking while black, or fill in the blank while black” and how police authorities then blame-shift their own hatred, or fear, or whatever onto the ones they brutalize.
Religion is another, and it is a veritable tennis match as haters on both sides shift viscous volleys of blame back and forth from “those damned liberals” to “those ignorant fundies”.
And now that you are warmed up…how about just lil old you? How do you blame shift onto others? (Charissa will not comment regarding her own woodshedding with Mama regarding that Q)
Constance…right now I feel pretty darn unlovely, if I am open…
struggling thru these circumstances where it is my truest and best self that I have been becoming, with soo much good and yet that is going to get me fired from my work…
or worse, leave me there after they have so deeply violated me and ripped out my guts…
I find out tomorrow…oh yes, in their exquisite torture they wish to prolong the agony, in the name of further investigation.
Q: you are a smart and perceptive person Constance…in anything I have written since post #1 have you read anything that would indicate I am a “vindictive”, “revengeful”, “bully” who uses position and power to coerce and threaten others…?????
I confess that the way they used those words…well it was as if they grabbed branding irons and branded the insides of my thighs and while I know in my heart that is the literal opposite of who I am, it left these severe marks…
…perhaps with Mama’s grace I can someday wear them as badges of honor, but until then the pain is nearly unbearable
Dear Constance…
So.
I have thought about it for a few days…what I would say this morning, if anything. After all, there are some things that a woman just never tells.
But:
I am different than other women, both in that I am myself and unique, and also because I am myself and transgender…in each way I am set apart, and thus have a strong sense of both my freedom to do or not as I choose, but also my “obligation” to report, to chronicle, to make my best effort to inform anyone interested in what life is like inside the oppression of the wrong gender.
The metaphor is just too perfect: We are, all of us, trapped in a wrong place, in a wrong time, with the sense that things ought to be different, and will one day be restored to “happily ever after”.
So with that said…
55 years ago today, I was gripped and smushed and pushed and eventually pulled into the rough light and harsh noise and frighteningly huge space of this world we live in. I was born July 13th, 1959.
It’s been such a long journey, and yet 55 years is literally nil when considered in the light of the days that have gone before.
But to me, it has been all I have ever known, and so I had a history of being on the outside, being outcast and no one knows, and being condemned to persisting in keeping my heart beating and my chest heaving, and my fruit sweet in the midst of a land that had no air, and weighed a million bajillion tons and was the stark backdrop for growing cactus and joshua trees.
Last year was a year of finishes, and it nearly finished me…so much ended, so many things fell apart in my world, and only a few things remained. At the time, it was unbearable. I would go to the mountains on my bike, and scream myself hoarse. It was either that or die.
Jesus told a church back in the day to wake up, and strengthen the things that remain. See, they had invested in transient things, and ignored what lasted. He exhorted them to get a grip, assess priorities and focus on eternal things.
When we don’t listen to the exhortation, He simplifies our options by removing the transient things…and this happened to me last year, a year of sorrow, loss, and ultimately deliverance.
I am glad to see it end, and so happy as well for the way that Mama took me in hand the last 3 months of the year and rooted, grounded my feet and heart in a renewed understanding of my worth and value and significance to Them, to Her…She taught me to begin to love myself, and thus I can with a true heart truly love others.
I have always associated the number 5 with Grace, for a variety of reasons.
So 55…this is gonna be the year of double grace…Grace upon grace! Charissa (which means grace) Grace.
Moses said to the Lord, in that famous encounter that began with the Lord testing Moses’ heart with the declaration that He was sick and tired of the stubborn nature of the people of Israel.
CLUE: He really wasn’t, but Moses was!! I have found that the Lord often times presents Themselves to me as if THEY are like the attitudes of my heart, in order to mirror to me who I am in that moment.
So here was Moses, pretending on the outside (even to himself) that he was not tired of them, fed up with the dullness and stubbornness, and so the Lord tells Moses that He is done with them, but that He will take Moses himself and raise him up into his own nation of great and awesome people, just like their Progenitor was! (Sarcasm intended btw…this is the same guy that tried to become the great deliverer if Israel by killing an Egyptian slave guard, and then ran into the desert to hide for 40 years!).
But…thank God that Moses had hung out with Them enough to know that when this sort of word came, it was a really good idea to listen with the heart of hearts and not the heart of desire…and so as he thought it over, it became manifestly obvious that it was better to have God Themself over merely Their blessing and protection.
So Moses says this: “Now therefore, I pray, if I have found grace in Your sight, show me now Your way, that I may know You and that I may find grace in Your sight.”
Did you catch that? Moses asks for grace to get grace!
Do you need grace in your life…undeserved favor unending, and the power to do whatever God requires? That is the biblical meaning of grace, by the way…it isn’t some cheap get outta jail free card fire insurance…
The lesson is that it starts with Them, it is by Their power and ability, and it ends in Them, while They in love loop us in to the joy and blessing of Their perfect fellowship.
They include us in Their family.
So…55 years…and new beginnings for Charissa Grace…me, this cursed child of loneliness who has been redeemed from the pit of emptiness, from death. I am walking in faith this year is going to be a year of grace upon grace. The wonderful undeserved unmerited Shalom They have extended over me, to me, in me, thru me, and the power to walk and be fruitful in the land of my afflictions.
I have gone forth sowing in tears. I shall return, harvesting in joy.
And this is the year it truly begins for me…and that is indeed a faith statement!!! It scares me, the gravity of 54 years pulls hard back to the pits of loneliness and despair, but the power of Their love and affection is a strong magnetic irresistible draw.
I cannot resist it.
I do not want to resist it.
So I surrender, and say Happy (yes…for the first time, Happy) Birthday (for I was in so many ways born last year too) Charissa
Happy Birthday, Charissa Grace, blest of God and most fortunate of beings
“
My friend Kat does it again…please stop in and check out her post…oh, and give her a hug from Sista ‘Rissa! 🙂
I know I missed a week or two. It’s hard to find relevant items to share when you are hurtling 80+ mile per hour down a highway with the sound of the Cars movie in the background because the headphones’ batteries are dead and a 4 year old asking, “Did you see that part? Did you see it?” But I’m back.
The link I am sharing is one that my son, Kris, shared with me. It gives readers the chance to see what some of the things are that transgender people face in the course of a day. The interesting thing is that this gives the reader just a nibble of the actual reality. It is interactive so the reader has the choice of clicking which direction the day goes. It’s very simple but I think it makes the point.
Transgender people face so many obstacles in…
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Very telling…anyone willing to take the challenge to raise our children with expectations of worth and value instead of domination and control?
One night President Obama and his wife Michelle decided to do something out of routine and go for a casual dinner at a restaurant that wasn’t too luxurious. When they were seated, the owner of the restaurant asked the President’s Secret Service if he could please speak to the First Lady in private. They obliged and Michelle had a conversation with the owner. Following this conversation President Obama asked Michelle, “Why was he so interested in talking to you?” She mentioned that in her teenage years, he had been madly in love with her. President Obama then said, “So if you had married him, you would now be the owner of this lovely restaurant,” to which Michelle responded, “No. If I had married him, he would now be the President.”
Grey
Maligned and mistrusted,
assumed and embraced
Grey.
Accused of prevarication,
of compromise,
of spineless stand
and no principles,
kaleidoscope of get along.
Grey?
The soft medicine between
the hard icy edges
of sky and earthThe velvet comfort of snuggly
drizzledrops in early spring
that fall gently and call out life.
Grey is a mirror to you.
“Gentlemen. This is what rape culture is like:
Imagine you have a Rolex watch. Nice fancy Rolex, you bought it because you like the way it looks and you wanted to treat yourself. And then you get beaten and mugged and your Rolex is stolen. So you go to the police. Only, instead of investigating the crime, the police want to know why you were wearing a Rolex instead of a regular watch. Have you ever given a Rolex to anyone else? Is it possible you wanted to be mugged? Why didn’t you wear long sleeves to cover up the Rolex if you didn’t want to be mugged?
And then after that, everywhere you go, there are constant jokes about stealing your Rolex. People you don’t even know whistle at your Rolex and make jokes about cutting your hand off to get it. The media doesn’t help either; it portrays people who wear Rolexes as flamboyant assholes who secretly just want someone to come along and take that Rolex off their hands. When damn, all you wanted was to wear a nice watch without getting harassed for it. When you complain that you are starting to feel unsafe, people laugh you off and say that you are too uptight. Never mind you got violently attacked for the crime of wearing a friggin time piece.
Imagining all that? It sucks, doesn’t it.
— | The Wretched of the Earth: On Rape Culture (via felicefawn) |
“When Santa’s helpers take pics of themselves is it called an Elfie?”
— | Richelle E. Goodrich |
— | Franz Kafka |
“I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free; and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! Why am I so changed? why does my blood rush into a hell of tumult at a few words?”
― Emily Bronte.
I listened to The Carpenters incessantly! Constantly, and I would cry along with the dreamy sad sound of Karen Carpenter, whom I thought was the most amazing vocalist I had ever heard. How was she able to capture the lonely longings and isolation that I was in all the time?
I also liked Vikki Carr, and her song “It Must Be Him” just broke me everytime with her despair when her lover didn’t end up calling on her. Take a listen sometime…to the beautiful Karen Carpenter (God please Bless her), and Vikki Carr.
After The Rain
After the rain in the streets light flows like blood
I can just taste salt on the humid wind
Here comes that gasoline
Spreading hungry rainbow over shiny black tar
I’m blown like smoke and blind as wind
Except for when your love breaks in
Maybe to those who love is given sight
To pierce the wall of seeming night
And know it pure beyond all imagining
Engine throb street cruise light bullet car flash
Hollow beauty night gleam oily river tension glass
Ultraflame! Glittering dust falling in slow motion
Clouds tumbling one over another into apparent emptiness
It’s like a big fist breaking down my door
I never felt such a love before
Maybe to those who love it’s given to hear
Music too high for the human ear
And clear as hydrogen to go singing
By Bruce Cockburn
St John Of The Cross on Love
In search of my Love
I will go over Mountains and strands;
I will gather no flowers
I will fear no wild beasts
and pass by the mighty and the frontiers.
A thousand Graces Diffusing
And let the vision and thy beauty kill me!
Behold the Malady
of love is incurable
Except in thy presence and before thy face.
Oh Chrystal Well!!
Oh that on thy silvered surface
Thou wouldst Mirror forth at once
Those eyes desired
Which are outlined in my heart!
St Augustine on Love
Late have I loved you, O Beauty so Ancient,
And so new. Late have I loved you!
You were within me but I was outside myself, and THERE I sought you!
In my weakness I ran after the beauty of the things you have made, the things which would have no being unless they existed in You!
You have called, you have called and you have PIERCED my deafness.
You have reached forth, You have shined out brightly, and you have Dispelled my Blindness.
You have sent forth your fragrance, and I have breathed it in, and I long for you.
I have tasted you, and I hunger and Thirst for you.
You have touched me, and I ardently desire your peace.
Amen.
Just Sayin’…
Today is my 32nd wedding anniversary.
I am so thankful to God for bringing me my precious friend, partner, companion, wife, and mother of my beloved children.
There is literally nothing that I would not give up for her…there is literally nothing that I would refuse her.
I love you baby…Happy Anniversary, and may we have 32 more!! (at LEAST!!)
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