Sunday, October 31, 2010

So, I went to T.O. for the weekend.  Saw the dentist last minute,  got my shelving from IKEA and had my MRI.


Had a first date, and got vetted by my date's big sister.  Still waiting to hear on that one. :)  They're both Estos and it was lovely to hear my name spoken correctly, and to share two strands of my life that have never crossed before.  I have never met other Esto queers.  I am going to need a new vocabulary - Eesti-Inglise Sõnastik, watch-out! We went for all-you-can-eat Sushi, which was really good.  I don't think I've been that stuffed with tasty raw fish in, well, ever.  Then we went for a bit of a walk, climbed trees, or watched, as the case may be, and ate gellato.  (and espresso in my case, since I was still on my way out to:


Destiny, where I got dressed up as "The Little Match Girl"   since my Fat Femme Crew was going as Fairy Tale characters this year.   With my crutch, my shawl, ragged dress, and the box of matches, plus making puppy dog eyes, and asking "Please, would you like to buy a match?" I was told that the effect was good, and creepy, which was the idea!  So, for no money, things I had, and could borrow, I managed to meet the theme, and still look hot.  Yay me! 

It was lots of fun!  Electronic music, friends, some I haven't seen in years, and dancing...  I've only gone out three times this year, so it was great to get a chance to hang out.

School is keeping me way too busy.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Random thought

I've been reading a lot about OCSD and ASD lately, and I think that I'm pretty definite about having some form of obsessive compulsive spectrum disorder. 

This site is pretty fascinating:
http://theemergencesite.com/Tech/TechIssues-Autism-OCD-Aspergers-ADD.htm

The concept that they're all situated aong a spectrum is neat.  Other people are positing the theory that ASD and OCSD are two versions of the same thing, but that the ASD is a natural phenomenon, and that OCSD is trauma-based.

Something to think about certainly.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Hmm?

There's a second layer to the niceness of people here.  I wonder if they would still be so nice to me if they found out that I am queer?

Last week I was the only one that was wearing a purple shirt, on the anti-homophobia awareness day.  I work in a public school!  I know that it's not such a big deal, but there are less than a dozen racialized students there, and no racialized teachers, and I am the only Black person at all.  I know I pass, but there was a presetation on the history of Jazz, by a band consisting of old white men, who referred to the origins of jazz as being call and answer field music from "the blacks" who came over from Africa.

I brought it up, and was told that it was just how people from that era talked, and it was no big deal.  It is a big deal.  Especially when the kids have no other exposure.

Sigh.

All kinds of trauma is coming up for me.  Right now, what's coming up is all of my fears from being in teachers college last time.  The homophobia of teacher's college, getting thrown out, and almost losing my year at school, and not having my mom.

I did OK, because I had friends, and I was so lucky to have a place to go, and I am a resilient person, and a survivor, but it still felt scary.  I had other relatives, and it was kind of exciting, but, as someone who went from completely being controlled, to being completely abandoned, it was petrifying.

It means such a lot to me to be able to call her up.

I know that things were really bad when I was a kid, but the fact that she loved me and kept me safe this past winter when J left, really repaid that debt exponentially.  I still have to deal with the after effects of my childhood, but the slate between us is clear.  I have to find a way to let her know it.

This winter I needed a Mommy, and I had one.  I know I am so incredibly lucky to get resolution.  We're still ironing out the rough patches, but it makes such a massive amount of difference knowing that I have that love.  I know that she always loved me, but my childhood experience was so inconsistent, and parts so terrifying, that it really wasn't like that.  Parts of it were really great, and I am finding ways to re-connect with those, as a way of re-connecting with my mom.

Being on my own is tough.  I'm the only one here, and I find myself waiting some nights for J to come home before making dinner.  It's not conscious, but like any habit, it's going to take time.

I had to give myself a talking to today about some work that needed doing in my crawlspace.  I needed to get down there, and put in the styrofoam blocks for the winter, and read the water meter, and change some light bulbs, and I had been avoiding it, but I did it finally.

Saturday, October 02, 2010

Why I don’t like Dan Savage’s “It Gets Better” project as a response to bullying

I was bullied.

I am a survivor. I am wholeheartedly glad that I made it through that night, when I attempted suicide 22 years ago, at 15. I think it was worth it.

I also remember what it felt like to be me that night. And all those other nights, and telling me that 22 years later, I'd be OK, wouldn't have helped. I wanted to be OK right then. I wanted someone to tell me that my gay best friend was going to marry me so i could be normal, or that it was OK to look at other girls, or that i wasn't fat and ugly, or that it was OK to feel how i felt, because sometimes the world is a shitty place, and that feeling that is OK too.

I needed not to be alone. I needed to be heard. I needed to be allowed to exist. I needed a voice, and a space.

But things didn't get better in that wonderful, rosy, gorgeous way that they're supposed to.  I didn't finish High School, and move to the "Big City".  I lived in the Big City.  Toronto. Canada's largest. 

I got kicked out of the house in second year university for coming out.  I almost lost a year of school, and eventually dropped out of the B.Ed. program because I couldn't stand being closeted anymore.  This was in 1993 or 1994, so there were no protections yet. 

It took my Mom 10 years to accept me, and now, 17 years later, we are working through some of the issues relating to the abuse from my childhood.  I know that I am lucky, and some people never get any kind of resolution.  It's a lot of work, all the time, and it's a constant, ongoing choice.

I've had, and lost, one very important relationship, and a few shorter ones.
That has been very hard.  Divorce is excruciating, whether you are queer or straight.

We make a mistake telling queer kids lies about their futures.  The only thing that's worth saying is that they matter to us.  Telling them that they are worth something to us.  That they are family.  We are supposed to be a family.  We are supposed to be a community, we are supposed to be the Elders.  C'mon folks, we need to step up here, and be the community we claim to be.

We care. You matter. Life can be hard. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it hurts so badly you don't know if you can keep going. But there are people who care. Come and find us. Please. We will do our best to walk beside you until you do not need us anymore, and then we will walk beside you as a friend.

That's the message.

I had people who stood beside me.  It made all the difference, and I am so grateful.  Every time life has kicked me down, there have been people to come and stand beside me so I can get back on my feet.  I owe them my life.  We need to make sure that we are doing this for each other, and for our youth.

These our our kids.
Driving on country roads to my first meeting of the day, leaving before the sun is up, seeing grey clouds, with rose-tinted edges, wathing the sun light up the birtches. The forests are different here: darkest, deepest green, and bright, fluorescent yellow and orange birches and ash? aspen? It's incredible. The few maples that I see are like little bursts of red and purple fire. It's amazing.

The sky goes on forever, and every day I see things I want to paint.

There are deer in every forest. Sometimes I see them in the middle of town. It's so nice. Even just that connection to nature.