The reason I took a break from this writing was that the pandemic and all that was happening at the time made me just too vulnerable. I was being bullied, I was afraid of dying from getting Covid, and all of my routines and work devolved into many hours and days of reading books on the deck. I observed constantly and wrote in my journal and wrote posts in my mind, but was mostly just afraid to speak.
My organizations were dying, not able to have our events and not able to meet in person. It was still during the previous administration, so politics were still traumatizing, worse even. The elderly and disabled were being sacrificed and there was so much suffering. I was guilty of being happy to be able to stay home alone and read. It was a joyous vacation made possible by unbelievable suffering by others. So my words were not feeling useful. I ate them with the sourdough and vegan ice cream.
I noticed while trying to find my blog today that not only is there a drag queen using the name, but it's a pretty religious term that of course I have ignored. What I mean by divine tension is an illustration by Nancy Bright I treasure of a woman balancing on a thread of spider silk...ready to plummet off for telling the truth as she sees it. Balanced, though. Fearless of the consequences, as her dress shreds and falls away. Kind of me...but kind of not. My aspiration.
I'm listening to a podcast, not even able to finish listening before being driven to speak. You can hear it too: https://anchor.fm/ayisha-elliott/episodes/How-Diversity-Equity-and-Inclusion-DIED-e1ningb?fbclid=IwAR2sdJvaG9b1dTB5fTVHgyL5GMjdPhCWCA0sutN313QATNkGhFPB_qsgE_k
I'm not posting it on FB, where things are too toxic still. People there, even my own friends, don't deserve my help in finding these truths. People, even my own friends, need to step up and do their own work. I have a lot to do on my list. But I am glad I arranged my day around this group conversation by people I have so much love and respect for. They got bullied far more than I did, and they can still laugh. They drew their boundaries and then kept going. They're willing to tell the truth. And so must I be. So since this was my main way to do that, I'll come back. We'll see how it goes.
Market has become no fun for me in the last year, for a lot of reasons, but yesterday the Jesus parade of signs and yellers with megaphones camped out on my corner and the other corners of our intersection and it made an unbearable day so much worse. It was raining ash yesterday. It wasn't really smart to be there, but I had just fought at a meeting for us to honor our commitment to be open, for the community as well as for ourselves and each other, in a general way, and now here was a specific way for me to again, show up. So I had to pack my ice water and go. I wore my mask as I have continued to do for so many markets now (all of them since June 2000.) And when the righteous people yelled I did two things, besides trying to ignore them: I put up my performative sign that says "End white supremacy culture" right on the front of my booth, because obviously that kind of X-tianity is WSC, even though I have not been putting up my performative sign, because it's performative. The second thing I did was I went over to the woman who plays mandolin with all of her heart and soul and put $20 in her case (even though I had already tipped her because she is my favorite busker and I am into keeping her alive and well) and thanked her for stepping up and taking her space as she did right as they were occupying our corner. She played and sang True Colors and she kept playing and singing and then another two musicians did the same. And I tipped them as well. Performatively and for real.
So listening to this podcast, which was people I know who were speaking truth so hard, I felt ashamed, of my complicity in hiding out in the face of shocking atrocity, and for keeping comfortable in a time when all of our lives are on the line. I can hardly call myself an activist anymore...I get too triggered to do public activism. I do quiet stuff. I make plans of things I could be doing. I try to spend some of my money on things other people are doing. I try to fight inside these orgs to help us be upright and do the right things. I lose heart mostly every morning and build it back in my journal.
I didn't go to Fair this year, mostly for safety because I would for sure have gotten Covid, but also because I was ashamed of it. It should not have been held. I heard the spin and obfuscation and I did some of my jobs, and supported other crafters, but I blew off that income and burnt some bridges. I'm glad I did. I truly do not know at this time if I will go back. My illusions were never very strong about the bullshit family stuff and all that so-called magic, as I have seen pretty much all of it over the years and I know who the good people are and who they are not. I have seen through all of the curtains. These last years have been really toxic though, since the bullies were empowered.
We have had some bullying at the Market, and I have fought it in my position as an officer, and mostly we have been able to disarm the bullies by either getting them to resign their positions or by the good luck of them going elsewhere with their bad habits. Some are still in place, and their habits have been adopted by others, but I can still fight it fairly effectively there. I get to guide the Board, I can speak to the offenders with a bit of positional power, and I can just endure some of it until it dissipates, because I know I have strong ethics and integrity and I work from my values and rarely use that type of tactics or behaviors to get things to go in what I believe is an ethical and coherent direction. I make mistakes, but I do not think I was ever wrong in working to get rid of the bullies. I stood strong in the group and led from within. It's always hard, and I shed a lot of tears and process a lot of anger, but I know what is right and what is not. And I am very clear on what is bullying and how to fight it. Not that I succeed in every case, because some people just learn to keep it out of my sight. Bullies tend to have skills in brainwashing followers.
But Fair is another thing altogether. The number of bullies who are now in power seems unassailable. Out of the people who are running for the Board, I can support three of them: Lucy Kingsley, Ann Rogers, and Katy Parker. All of them talk about service, which is maybe number one on my list of qualifications. There are two men I don't know, whom I might take a chance on, maybe after more research. I always learn a lot from their physical presence on the forum recordings. But all the rest of the candidates are known bullies or in support of known bullies. I am sorry to have to say that. None of them will make a positive contribution to the organization, in my view. That's a lot of people to reject. It doesn't give me a lot of hope. They don't admit to that in their statements, but for me and my bullshit filter, talking about the family, the magic, the love and the party are bullshit gaslighting. Those things are toxic.
The org has alienated my son's generation to the extent that maybe none of them will ever go back. My generation is reaching the end of our abilities to make and sell there. Lots of the people in between have now seen the worst, and are no longer willing to overwork and bully themselves for an ideal that has been shown to be cardboard. Thin cardboard, very prettily painted. It got blown down in the pandemic and not many people I know want to prop it back up.
The white supremacy culture lives there in the worst ways. Now you can't even talk about it. There's way more denial that willingness to work. With the recorded meetings that can be viewed by bullying Board members, my committee has not had a productive conversation about cultural appropriation, something our committee has to initiate, without the benefit of any diversity professionals since they won't be coming back to help. Some still care, but why attempt it? Even if I hire them myself, which I have been tempted to do, no action will come of it as any guideline we attempt to write will not make it past the Board. Unless maybe some of the bullies are gone. Not that they have to be Board members, since the process is now about who can tarnish the hardest, and who can drive the false narratives.
Market is not off the hook in diversity issues. I was able to make it part of the performance, along with trying to find someone multilingual to address some cultural accessibility, but it wasn't really part of any end results. I volunteered to speak about equity to the Board, but when I tried to speak about so many tiny parts of that in the past, it was just so obvious that most people at the table had not had time to do any self-education on the issues, that I know my best bet is to stick to things that are relatable, like our internal member equity issues like who gets favored in our fee structure and who gets the benefits of our wonky map with it's bonus spaces and things like shade. We're going to have a fee increase this winter, and once again I will try to explain what regressive structure means and options to make sure the successful pay more and the less successful pay less. I've done this the last two or three times to no result. "Everyone has to pay their dues," "We've all had to learn how to build our businesses," and so on. Bootstrap stuff. We profess equality as one of our tenets but equity? It's going to be my job to just start that conversation. In 2022. I figure I can talk about shoes. Everyone gets a pair of shoes. Doesn't it work better if everyone gets the pair of shoes that fits them? Or like, one shoe and one wheel? We all know how much of that I can get done in the Board Educational Minute. But I will sure try. I will absolutely use the minute to suggest that when we can figure out if we have any money or not, we put some aside for an introductory training. Because we are going to have to start at the very beginning. Dough, ray, me me me.
I'm not really going to vent about the things that are really bothering me today. This is already too long and I've done my morning processing to get myself to the position I do every day, to a place of patience and tolerance and giving things a chance to get better so I won't have to let my rage and deep disappointment out to undermine my message. I've begun to believe it is idealistic to hold people to high ethical and relational standards. Maybe I just start putting books on the table for people to read and let some of it go. Read Ibram X. Kendi, damnit. Read Mediocre, or anything by Ijeoma Oluo. All of hers. Read one book. Read one article. What have you been doing all through the pandemic? Watching Netflix? Right, I knew that.
Watch Henry Louis Gates then. Listen to Michelle Obama. Surely you have time for her. Somebody. Even Ellen is better than no one.
I'm being mean I guess. Probably a lot of my readers have read these writers, probably one or two of my Board members have as well. We just haven't talked about it yet. Maybe when we get finished putting out the fires started by the liars and bullies who were willing to take my orgs to the ground we can talk about books and ideas. Maybe the fires will get put out. But at my house, at my booth, the sun is still a lovely but deadly shade of hot fuschia pink. And I'm still standing in the ash fall, looking around to see if I have any friends in there with me. If so, thank you, and some day we'll kiss and hug.
By the way, one of the most beautiful moments I saw yesterday, which hardly anyone else saw, was a couple of young women who stood behind the X-tians with their fetus signs and bullhorn, and kissed. Just a simple, regular kiss like they give each other every day. That's the moment my heart filled up and my eyes stopped burning. I took a drink of water, and there was still some ice.
