Yesterday, on
March 24, I had the honor of serving as keynote speaker for the Women's
Diversity Conference (note:
my bio info isn't updated) at Adrian College. This conference is a rarity in a
conservative, rural Michigan town, spearheaded by a few courageous female staff
and faculty members whose roles at the institution and community are to inform,
enlighten, and challenge. There was a subversive quality to this conference--it
was cool to be connected to it. Enjoy!
Part Three – Three Values
In
January of this year, I joined 125 people to attend an event hosted by Project
South and Southerners On New Ground called the Queer Peoples Movement Assembly.
Here, a working definition for queer liberation was presented:
Queer liberation seeks liberation for all peoples through working for the recognition of our whole selves; the integrity of the relationships and families we embrace; self-determination in choices for our bodies in sexuality, gender, eroticism, disability, safety, and privacy; the dignity of our spiritual practices; fairness in our economic systems, our work and its compensation; full access to participating in and benefiting from society's institutions; human rights for all; and justice as a birthright for all.
This
statement is powerful to me because it relates an affirmation—what a free world
for queer and all people would feel like. Importantly, this definition is
powerful alone because it was communicated at the Assembly. Even if you
and I will never experience liberation, as defined here, we will know that this
possibility exists, which I suggest to you is enough. Imaginative politics is
the seed for our inspiration, and a roadmap for our work.
But, if
we have opportunities to embody our visions then we should be courageous to do
so. Queer Liberation, along with Hip Hop and Buddhism has yet again transformed
my relationship with power in recent years. Queer leftists have shown me that it
is possible to build a community based on the politics around love. Hip Hop
introduced me the politicized poetry of critique and possibility. And Buddhism gave
me a pathway through which to practice healing and shattering conditioned myths
in my life. I am certain that each of you has or will bond with a freedom
tradition, whether political, spiritual, artistic, or most likely the fusion of
all of these things. In it you may discover that the power that you and we
already possess is tremendous, and that the unification of our collective power
is but a multiplier.
I briefly
want to touch on three specific values from these traditions that have
sustained me over time: embracing vulnerability, experiencing wholeness, and
cultivating radical imagination.
Embracing
vulnerability to me is living freely to recognize your and others unrealized
power. The politics of control and domination are interrupted when we embrace
our own fears and anxieties to transcend them. It requires intention, honesty,
support, and above all, gentleness. In the VRRP work, this means that I openly
explain to every group that I train that there is a great deal that I don’t
know, but through sharing information I hope not only to learn, I want to serve
as a repository so that I can share with others with whom I come in contact. I
try not to worry about being perceived as inexperienced, lacking confidence, or
ceding “authority.” In the end, I think that I am striving toward justice when
I can shed my ego for the benefit of the work.
By
identifying my fears and routinely practicing to overcome them, I find that I
am creating an opening for experiencing wholeness. I try to be aware in my life
when I am internally separated—when I am feeling “small” because parts of me
are ignored, repressed or neglected. In the day-to-day grind that means
remembering to live in my body, as I can get stuck living in my head as an
intellectual person. With political work this often means avoiding spaces where
all of my identities or experiences—happy or sad, neat or messy, known or
unknown—are not welcomed. Whether I am in Black Baptist Church in the state
capital, Richmond, Virginia or at rural county fair at the far southwestern tip
of Galax, Virginia, I will have on gender ambiguous clothing and will publicly
name Golden Girls as my favorite TV show of all-time, if I’m ever asked. Experiencing wholeness is a barometer of the
balance of power around me. The more free I feel, the closer I am to the heart
of justice.
And the
ways in which we are able to shake away from our own ego-driven desires,
burdensome expectations, pernicious myths, and senseless conventions, inside
and outside of ourselves, the easier it is to live in the world that we imagine,
the world that we are striving toward. Some dismiss radical imagination as the
stuff idealistic kids chase vainly after. On the contrary, iconic feminist
thinker, and progressive Buddhist, bell hooks, explained in a 1996 interview:
"...my mother in Kentucky always used to say, 'Life is not promised," in the sense that boredom is a luxury in this world. Where life is always fleeting, each moment has to be seized. For us children, that was a lesson in imagination, because she was always urging us to think of the imagination as that which allows you to crack through that space of ennui and get back going."
bell
hooks’ memory is not about childhood naivety or escapism. Rather, it is
recalling a survival strategy against complacency, a way to remain steeped in realities
that are exhausting and harsh. Possibility can be the present if we willing to
call upon our hope to thrive as people. After all, in a traditional place like
Virginia, there will be no reason to do the work for a freer democracy, absent
a daring—audacious—imagination. For without the unthinkable there is no
thought, and without the unattainable there is no spirit to endeavor.
Conclusion
In this
room some of us will become public servants who will make decisions, big and
small, that will affect our collective well-being in a political environment.
Others will similarly make decisions affecting our collective well-being though
perhaps in less formal and less public ways. Regardless of how we engage with
powerful institutions, we maintain capacities to interact with people who make
up these institutions, and to re-shape our relationships to their power and
therefore, its power. For all of us, fleeting moments of choice, feeling, and
imagination will define our course toward or away from the heart of justice.
Fully
experiencing the “in between-ness” of living within but striving toward the
heart of justice resonates with our present struggles and our manifested
dreams. Power drapes our everyday outlooks, is sensed in our bodies, and
resides in the recesses of our mind, which, upon acknowledgment is an
opportunity to transform. We are much more than parts of a whole, we are power,
and choose to either share it generously or hoard it selfishly. I hope by sharing my own formative
experiences with power, explaining the ways in which my current work engages
with law and electoral politics, and offering values that have sustained me to
live more freely so that I can resist and build, that you too can envision and
embody a world where we practice supreme bigheartedness and love. Because while
there is an infinite supply of power, our experiences as humans during our lifetimes
are remarkably finite.
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