DC Black Pride: Fire 2006

Continuing my weekend adventures, on Sunday I attended my first ever DC Black Pride. After meeting a friend, l., for brunch at Busboys and Poets (which if you're in the Washington, DC area you need to DEFINITELY check out) we headed to the festival site at the Old Washington Convention Center Site (9th and H Streets NW).

Busboys and Poets is a restaurant, bookstore and gathering place for people who believe that social justice and peace are attainable goals. The Busboys and Poets location enhances the community -- allowing us to bring together a diverse clientele reflective of the surrounding neighborhoods and the city at large. Busboys and Poets creates an environment where shared conversations over food and drink the progressive artistic and literary communities to dialogue, educate and interact.

In part, what brought me to my first DC Black Pride was a call for volunteers from Burgundy Crescent.

The purpose of Burgundy Crescent Volunteers (BCV) is twofold. First, we are a source of volunteers for local and national gay and gay-friendly community organizations in the Washington, DC area. Second, we bring gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender singles and couples together for volunteer activities that are social in nature.

Usually, my volunteer activities of choice are mailings for the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force (NGLTF). In fact, it was at a mailing volunteer event for NGLTF that l. and I met (well, to be honest I only vaguely remembered her from this event, but when we ended up at the same house party later--it is a small, small, world--it was definitely a bonding point). In any case, when I saw the call for volunteers, I posed it to l. and we decided to sign up--a good chance to serve the community, as well as to socialize.

At first we were stationed at the information table handing out pride programs. Thirty minutes into our two-hour volunteer shift, however, I got moved to ticket sales at the festival's entrance. We were supposed to both get stationed there, but l. was left to program distribution while I was at ticket sales. Despite not getting to hang out with l. (which was a main point), I had a good time.

After getting to the festival relatively early (a little after 1pm--it opened at 12pm) I wondered how crowded the festival would get...it was still pretty empty then, but in the two hours I was at the entrance (from about 2:30-4:30pm) I handled 571 ticket sales. (It reminded me of my days as a box office cashier at the movie theater I worked at throughout high school.) It was exciting to see the crowds of people, and the more people the more festive the mood grew.

What was cool was that I ran into handfuls of folks that I recognized, or recognized me from Starbucks, school, and just being out (excuse the pun). I really didn't have any time to really talk to people (I mean 571 tickets in 2 hours means selling an average of almost 5 tickets every minute), but the sheer recognition factor definitely gave me a feeling of community that I cherished.

I think that's what I love most about pride...coming together in celebration.

On the Road Again, the Rainbow Road

When I couldn't find Alex Sanchez's latest novel Rainbow Road at my local bookstore, I ordered it on-line. It arrived late last week, and was just another part of my journey this weekend which began with a road trip to Reading.

It was a great extension of my own road trip, sitting on a bench by the river facing the front of the Reading Public Museum, reading about Kyle, Jason, and Nelson's own road trip across the country (from Washington, DC to Los Angeles, CA). In addition, it reminded me of last summer (almost this same time of year) when I made my own first trip across the country (from Washington, DC to San Francisco, CA) as I accompanied a friend on her move back to the west coast. The boys took the southern route across, though, whereas j and I took a northern route (stopping in Iowa, Denver, and Reno).

There definitely is something transformative about driving across the country--even more so when you don't do it alone. The excitement, the fear, the being trapped, the feeling infinite...Sanchez did a great job of capturing these emotions. The distinct personalities of Kyle, Jason, and Nelson that Sanchez has developed over the series (Rainbow Boys, Rainbow High, and here in Rainbow Road) gets the chance to unfold even more. We learn more about the characters, we get to watch them grown, and become themselves (this is an element I absolutely love about both television and novel series).

Nelson's utter commitment to being himself shines through.
Kyle's dedication to his friends, and his vulnerability that is matched by his sense of hope are endearing.
And Jason...his perseverance is admirable.

While I worry that the ending is a little too focused on coming out as a panacea, I do like Sanchez's emphasis on the importance of community.

Jason's closing speech:

Um...Thank you. Um...You would think after playing so many basketball games in front of hundreds of people, I wouldn't be so nervous, but I think this is one of the scariest moments of my life.

I guess the difference is, when I'm on the court I've got a team, whereas here I'm all...Actually, I guess I'm not alone here either. I was originally supposed to be, but my boyfriend and one of our friends decided to come with me. They have no idea how glad I am right now that they're here.

Like probably all of you at some point when I was a kid, I started figuring out I was gay. Although I had little girlfriends, I was also curious about boys. When I was ten, I decided that since I'd kissed girls, I wanted to find out what it would be like to kiss a boy.

Unfortunately my dad came in on us. He gave me the biggest beating I'd ever had in my life.

You probably saw that sign outside. "Stop brainwashing our kids." Well, I was one of the ones brainwashed. That beating convinced me there was something wrong with me for wanting to kiss another boy like me.

I think for me the worst part of growing up gay was the loneliness that followed that beating. I became a prisoner locked up with my feelings. Of course I knew there were other kids, those like you. I heard the names you got called. I saw you getting beat up. And I'm ashamed to say I stood by like a coward, afraid to speak up, for fear my own secret would come out. And I hated myself for that.

Another sign outside says, "Repent or burn." I think in my case it happened the other way around: I spent most of my childhood burning inside...I've repented now, and I'm standing up for myself, and for you, and for thousands of others like us all across America.

As I drove across the country with my boyfriend and best friend we met some amazing people: a whole community of gay guys and women in the Middle of Nowhere, Tennessee, living free and being themselves...

We met this transgender girl who's just so happy being able to be herself as she always knew she was meant to be. And these two old guys in an RV, just loving each other and growing old. And I realize the reason I'd been so afraid to come out for was fear I'd be all alone.

But I get it now. I understand why it's so important to come out, and speak out, and reach out, and to have schools like this. And also, why those people outside with the signs are afraid of us. Because when we stop being alone, we get what I had on the court: a team to play with, to work with, to encourage each other, and to be there for one another, stronger than any single one of us could ever be.

Thank you.

GO TEAM!

Road to Recovery

I finally got off my duff Saturday and made my way to Reading, PA to see the Haring Exhibit at the Reading Public Museum. I thought about going last weekend, but then I wasn't feeling well and decided against it. Instead, I spent last weekend at home, feeling forlorn. So, this past weekend, I decided to head up, and I'm SO glad I did (despite the cold I've had all week that got so bad I lost my voice).

I forgot how much I love driving/road trips--the sun in my face, warming my body and the wind whipping by. Heading to Reading was literally a road to recovery. I woke up before dawn, made myself a new mixed CD (entitled "Folk for my Broken Heart" featuring songs by Brianna Lane, Edie Carey, Dar Williams, Kris Delmhorst, Cowboy Junkies, Disappear Fear, and Dido), quickly printed out driving directions, packed some cold medicine, my journal, and headed out the door.

After a quick stop at Starbucks (of course) I was on the road in time for sunrise. AMAZING. It's my favorite time of day. Ironically, I'm usually up (for work) before sunrise, but hardly ever get to just watch it break the horizon and climb into the sky. I felt so alive--recharged.

Getting to Reading was easy enough...I did end up wandering a bit around town first though (which ended up fortuitous because I found my way to the outlet stores and really good deals on some much needed clothing items). When I was done shopping, I found myself on just the road I needed to be on to follow my printed directions. Then it was into the Haring exhibit.

The exhibit took up six rooms, spanning through most of the second floor. It was just the right size--not too big so as to be overwhelming, but definitely big enough to make for a satisfying visit.

There were a lot more lithographs and silkscreens, but less tarpaulin paintings in the Reading show than in the one other Haring show I saw in San Francisco years ago. While that San Francisco show was great for the huge scale I got to experience, this Reading show was great for the intimacy it allowed. Another thing that made this Reading exhibit special was that a lot of the pieces were from Haring's family and friends, complete with their stories of their time with Haring. For example, there were a good number of things on exhibit that Haring had made for the kids of his friends that were on loan from those now-grown kids. The other treat was that they had two different videos of Haring at work on two separate mural projects (in Milwaukee and Chicago, respectively), complete with selected sections of those actual murals.

My two favorite pieces were a skateboard deck that he had painted and Nina's box of little things.

I can't believe that it took me this long to see the exhibit--I definitely want to make it the first, and not the last time I see it.

Just one thing

I don’t know what I want.

I think you do.
And for the life of me, I can’t figure out why you’re just sitting here.
Talk to him, for crying out loud.

What? No.
What is that going to do? He already knows how I feel.

How does he know, Jackie?
Have you told him?
Have you said, “Alex, I think you’re making a horrible mistake”?
Have you told him that you love him?

But what if I tell him and he still doesn’t want me?

Well, then you sit here and watch the sunrise.
Your old man will bring you coffee and croissants.

It’s not that simple.

You’re the one making it difficult.

If it was meant to be, it wouldn’t be this hard.
It would’ve already happened.

Maybe you’re right.
I don’t know.
But what is it you’re always saying?
“It isn’t worth winning if you don’t have to fight for it?”

….

Look, I know I’m gonna see you in less than an hour…
But I know that it might be the last time, so…
I think that I—
I should tell you some things…
Just one thing, really.
The only thing that matters anymore…
To me, at least…
Alex, from the very first…
God, you are so…
Alex, I love you.
I love you.
There, that’s—you know, that’s what I wanted to say, okay?

(The Cutting Edge: Going for the Gold)

Thank you for being a friend

Okay, so it's a totally cheesy throwback to the theme song from The Golden Girls by Andrew Gold, but in the most sincere way, I just have to say thanks to c. who saw I was feeling down yesterday and didn't hesitate to call. It made a big difference.

Desperately Seeking Solace

I feel like such a wreck right now. Part of me doesn't want to admit it, let alone write it down, because doing so makes it real in a way it wasn't otherwise. But holding it all in hasn't served me, so in the search for change, I'm trying something different. (Because what's insane is doing the same things over and over and expecting different results, right?)

Here's to letting go...

Not of hopes, or dreams, or desires--but expectations
Knowing my wants, paying attention to my needs, yet
Keeping gratitude in the foreground of my mind and heart

"You bring out the best in me"
It's what I want so desperately to tell her
It's what I need to make sure she knows

But I've said so much to her already

Perhaps now is the time for silence and patience?
But does that really ever get anyone anywhere?

Where am I trying to go?
Nowhere, really.

I'm trying to be here, now (with her).
I'm trying to be here, now (with myself).


I should probably just stop trying and let myself be.
It is what it is.

Transformative Connections

A couple of weeks ago, I was wandering around the bookstore looking for Alex Sanchez's Rainbow Road. (I've found YA LGBTQ fiction to be a reliable source of solace, and needed just that.) Not having any luck, I picked up Julie Anne Peters' Define "Normal" and Kris Radish's Annie Freeman's Fabulous Traveling Funeral instead.

I read through Define "Normal" in a couple of days. (I think out of the Peters' novels I've read--Far From Xanadu, Luna, Keeping You a Secret, and now Define "Normal"--Keeping You a Secret is still my favorite.)

Define "Normal" is the story of two eighth grade girls, Jasmine "Jazz" Luther and Antonia "Tone" Dillon, who meet through a peer counseling program. The novel begins in such a way that positions Antonia as Jazz's peer counselor, but by its end, Jazz is revealed to have been paired with Antonia to be her peer counselor. Really, the girls become confidants and friends to one another in such a way that who the counselor and who the client is becomes insignificant in the end.

Jazz and Tone, respectively, struggle to keep up appearances while other parts of their lives pull them in other directions. Jazz is the "punk" who is a classical music pianist and dreams of studying music in college, and Antonia is the math club nerd working desperately to hold her family together as her mother suffers from severe depression. They both manage to break through each other's walls, and find a place where they let others break through their walls. Antonia's story was one that was especially tough to get through at times.

What I liked best about the book is that the connection these girls make, and the absolutely transformative effect of that connection left me with a sense of hope--that perhaps others would break through my walls, that perhaps I would let others in, and potentially experience such a transformative connection.

Just yesterday, I finished Annie Freeman's Fabulous Traveling Funeral. It was an impulse buy that caught my eye because as I randomly flipped through it at the bookstore, I read that one of the characters was a lesbian. The premise of the novel is that Annie Freeman's last request after her death is that a small group of close friends assemble into a traveling funeral and serving as pall bearers to her cremated ashes, visiting important places from her life and spreading her ashes. Needless to say, there's lots of reminiscing, grieving, crying, but most of all a re-evaluation of the lives these women are living.

As it turns out, given the end of my semester and the loss I've been feeling associated with it, Annie Freeman's Fabulous Traveling Funeral came into my life right when I might have needed it most. It was a truly touching read that spoke to the power of friendship, the strength of a community of women, and the preciousness of life.

[Believe] in the magic of life, the power of hope, the cosmic sanity of chance and change, and the unmistakable power of love (297)

Sometimes you just don't know until you do it, try it or, I suppose, be it (312)

Life does not stop or wait even if you do. Pause if you must, the women agree, but then catch up fast, run with the wind, slide down the hill tumbling headfirst so that you can fall into the hands of now--today, everyday, every minute, every second (319)

Damn, I hope connections like these don't only exist in books!

5 minutes to go...

and then the last of my finals will be done...

The students are relieved--some a bit ragged, sleep-deprived, and worn out, but nevertheless finding release at having their projects turned in.

I'll be grading for the next 48 hours (and more, in all likeliness), but right now, in these last five minutes things are coming to a close for me.

I doubt that they know how much time I spent prepping for class, or how many green pens I used up giving them comments on their written work, or how many nights I went to bed with them and our class as the last things on my mind, or how many early mornings I awoke to think of them first...

I don't think they know how much fun I had with them this semester.

I just hope they know how much I learned, and hopefully they learned half as much as they taught me.

Not ready to make nice

So there I was just this past Sunday night, sitting in the living room with my roommate, patiently waiting for the start of the final episode of Survivor. We had about fifteen minutes before Survivor started, so we were each doing our own thing. He was on his computer, and I was writing in my journal.

Whatever CBS news program that was on (60 Minutes), however, quickly caught our attention. The focus? The Dixie Chicks and the release of their upcoming album "Taking the Long Way" (due out May 23) which includes the song "Not Ready to Make Nice."

The interviewer (Steve Kroft) was just so grating, it was impossible to ignore him. The story centered on the backlash that the Dixie Chicks faced after the "London incident" where Natalie Maines said that she was ashamed that President Bush was from her home state of Texas. It was the eve of the U.S. invasion of Iraq for goodness sake--we should have all been ashamed and outrages that we were going to war!

What I found so annoying about Kroft was that he kept asking questions primarily based in the market/economy and the business of music. Don't get me wrong, I fully understand that as an industry there are billions of dollars at stake in music, but any pretense of music as art seemed totally beyond Kroft's imagination. And so the focus of his interview was shaded by this frame that prizes business and money over all else.

"Anybody ever tell you one of the big rules of the music business, or business in general, is never try to antagonize your customers?" Kroft asked, laughing.

Oh if that didn't make me want to just...

In any case, I loved Maines' come back

Well, that's what music is. That's what the music I always admired and liked was. I didn't like, I saw no honesty in people being safe or opinionless...I always loved the music that was about something.

Thank goodness that we're not all so much slaves to capitalism that we've given up having opinions and speaking them. Viva la Dixie Chicks! I wasn't planning on buying their album before, but I sure will now--and props to Starbucks for carrying it!

If you want, check out the story from CBS's site.

Dancing with Coconuts and Bamboo

After just four practices and one dress rehearsal it was time to take our Filipino Folk dancing to the stage.

Here we are trying to look cool, calm, and collected before opening the night's performances with our rendition of Maglalatik



And some actions shots of the performance





We were far from perfect, but we did get through it, and definitely enjoyed ourselves while doing it. The crowd was super nice and folks were really generous with compliments after.

Then we de-coconuted and it was time for tinikling



While I still can't quite wrap my head around the politics of displaying my Filipino-ness through "traditional" folk dancing, it was really cool to learn about the history and significance of these dances. It was also AMAZING to get together with five other queer Filipinos and collaborate to produce something. I only really knew one of them prior to our dance practices, but I did remember another one from previous queer asian social outings, and had previously randomly emailed with a third. I don't know that I'll stay in touch with them, though, now that the performance has come and gone. I hope so.

We were far from being all the same...some foreign-born, some not, differences in regional ties both in the Philippines and the U.S., varied in professions, languages spoken, interests, etc...but it sure did feel great to come together as a group, a community. And, despite all our differences, there was also a way in which they felt like "home"--whatever that is. I definitely felt more comfortable with them than I usually do among groups of queer API women. (Yeah...I know, I need to figure out what that's all about--later.) This moment is reserved for nostalgic warm fuzzies of DC's 2006 Pride and Heritage (my first, but not necessarily the last)...

Saturday Morning Ruminations

For the first time since perhaps some time last summer, it's Saturday morning and I'm off of work at Starbucks. (I asked for the day off since today is the day of our Filipino folk dance performances for the Annual Pride & Heritage celebration. I'm off to our on site dress rehearsal in a few, but the morning has compelled me to post a little before I head out.)

For over the past two weeks I've been holding onto my Netflix copy of Transgeneration (disc 2). Now, for some of you fellow Netflixers, having one disc for two weeks might not seem like a big deal. In fact, one of the beauties of Netflix are no due dates. Still, at the same time, it's important to note that when you don't return disc, you don't get any new discs either. For a frugal fellow like me, I'm all about maximizing the flat monthly fee and getting as many different DVDs as I can each month--so, two weeks is a long time for me to hold onto a disc. In my Netflix history I haven't had any disc as long as I've been holding onto Transgeneration.



So, I've been holding onto this last disc of Transgeneration, unwatched, for the past few weeks. I think that as much as I wanted to see how the series ended, I was also in my own way trying to stave off that ending and hold onto something...

I think I've been doing that a lot lately, trying too hard to hold onto things instead of letting them take their course...trying too hard to not let things change.

On one hand, it makes sense; the end of the semester and school year are coming down fast upon me, and as much as I'm looking forward to summer break, this time of the school year is always one of loss. I'm glad for the students who successfully complete their classes, for the ones who graduate, for the classes that accomplish their aims, for the relief of having completed a hard semester's worth of work coupled with renewed interest in doing more work...

On the other hand, I know that it's about much more than just school.

In any case, I finally sat down yesterday to watch Transgeneration. The school year of the four students the documentary focuses on is similarly coming to a close in this last disc. In part related to the ending of the school year, though not exclusively so, the last two episodes on this second disc seem to feature the families of the various students more. It was really touching...made me miss my family, both biological and chosen...

I want to write more here, but I'm feeling too emotional to at the moment, and I need to put myself into a different head space for rehearsal...more later.

[Oh, but let me say here that I am really upset with Netflix, who on the sleeve of the CD offer a summary of the disc's episodes that fail to use the gendered pronouns that reflect the subjects' gender identities! :( ]

In the mean time, my campus had a screening of Transgeneration in the Fall before the series started. Here are some of my thoughts from then:

Raci I thought was really interesting because of her unapologetic sexual desire, wanting to go out all the time, etc. (actually, I just kept thinking "how southern Californian of her"--mind you this is the same place I came out in, so I can talk :) Of course, I also get a kick out of Raci being Filipina, and getting to hear tagalog. It was great to see her own her desire so much, but then also to witness the way in which that might put her in danger (like that guy in the club who was grabbing at her). I thought it was a balanced representation in that way. I was hoping, though, to hear more about her class status. She definitely made it a point to talk about her regents scholarship and how without it she wouldn't be able to go to school, and the film made clear that she had to move out of town for a job, but otherwise, class wasn't really talked about (well, not in the festival cut, anyway).

As for Gabi--I thought her story really helped to bring out lots of different issues, like the cost of SRS, the potential danger of over-investing in surgery as a panacea, isolation through transitioning, etc. In comparison to Raci and how Raci didn't want anyone to know she was trans, I think Gabi made for a balanced oppositional representation in how she was really up front with random people in her class. Gabi was also sad though, just because she was so socially awkward--if she had tried to pat me on the head, oh man!

Interestingly, the transguys' stories seemed a lot more depressing, generally. It's not like we didn't see Raci having disagreements with her mom, but T.J and Lucas were struggling with their moms in a way we didn't see Raci and Gabi. Also I don't know if it was by choice or circumstance, but it also seemed as if there were more ways in which T.J.'s and Lucas' worlds/social circles were more closed (transguys-only) in comparison to Raci and Gabi, who both had other transwomen as friends, but were also pictured with others. (Seems to me this has a lot to do with the differences between MTFs and FTMs, which I hope the series goes into a bit more, but which I didn't feel come out as a strong theme in the festival cut.)

I don't know, maybe I'm just sensitive because I worry about the FTMs I know who seemed to have to disappear and go into transmen-only spaces as they transitioned. I guess it makes me sad to think of losing these guys. Then again, I know there are really good reasons for such distancing, especially if it's from a lesbian/women's community. I guess there are ways I feel part of both communities, and rather than finding myself in a place where I'd have to choose one over the other, I want both at the same time.