eric.mata

The hoodies are everywhere. Twitter avatars, Facebook photos, celebrities on tv, even entire pro basketball teams are wearing them. All in the attempt to demand justice, to show solidarity, to create a movement to bring Trayvon Martin’s killer to justice. George Zimmerman. A self professed neighborhood watch captain. A conceal and carry permit holder. A domestic abuser. A child killer. Free. On the streets somewhere. Well, in hiding somewhere, but not in jail yet. So we wear hoodies. We demand justice. We change our avatars and profile pics. We sign petitions, repost articles and poems that shred our heart strings. But we are not Trayvon Martin. We are not young, black and male. Our parents aren't mourning our loss. These things will not keep other Trayvon's alive in the future. What will keep other young, black males alive in the face of the George Zimmerman’s of the world, is if we begin to reflect on the ways in which we see ourselves in George Zimmerman. We are more like George than we are like Trayvon. We grew up in the same world he did. Learned the same messages of what it is to be suspicious, what it means to belong in certain spaces at certain times based on skin color. We believe we are not racist. That we do not stereotype. Our parents think we are wonderful and accepting, just as George’s father does, but we also double take when someone doesn't belong, when something doesn't feel right about someone being in our space. If we want justice for Trayvon, we must spend more time reflecting on George and what drove him to follow, comfort and shoot a young black boy. We must understand the way George lives in us. We must teach our children to be accepting, understanding and aware of those different than us. We must teach them that a hoodie on a young black male is not equivalent to a threat on your person, like some would have us believe. Let us not just focus on justice for Trayvon. Let us not criminalize hoodies, nor make them martyrs. Let us not let the systems of race and gender, of racism and heteronormative masculinity get off the hook in this case. Rather, let us explore the intersections of both, position our individual selves in the center of that intsection and do the work we need to do with our ”selves”, with our peers, with our colleagues, with our families, and with our sons and daughters so that we can rid ourselves of the root causes of this tragedy. Justice is not only George Zimmerman behind bars. Justice is what we do to ensure that there a no more Trayvon Martin's nor George Zimmerman's in the world.  

The death of Trayvon Martin is a travesty.  Social media (at least those I follow) is up in arms as to why George Zimmerman, the man who is said to have shot and killed Martin has not been arrested.  Police say they don't have enough evidence to arrest him.  As I write this, the Justice Department and the FBI and looking into the case to determine the next steps.

My hope is that the family of Trayvon Martin get the justice they deserve to stay to find some semblance of closure in this tragic event.

Trayvon is dead because he is Black.  I truly believe that the combination of racial profiling and a neighborhood watch system, coupled with conceal and carry laws is the reason he is dead.  At 17.

Racism is still alive.  We do not live in a post-racial society.  Barack Obama becoming president did not change the course for all Black men and boys in this country.

Trayvon is also dead because George Zimmerman, although not White, lives in a country where Racism dictates a lot of how he thinks about Black boys and men .  It is Racism and white privilege that caused Zimmerman to follow Trayvon.  It is Racism and White privilege that caused Zimmerman to call the police, to label him suspect, to guess that he was on drugs.  It is Racism and White privilege that made Zimmerman confront Trayvon on that gated community sidewalk.

Trayvon is also dead because Zimmerman is a man.  The notions of gender of masculinity is what lead Zimmerman to a Neighborhood Watch group.  Notions of gender and masculinity drove Zimmerman to buy a gun, to apply for and obtain a conceal and carry license.  It is these notions of gender and masculinity that drove Zimmerman to disobey the 911 operator, to confront Trayvon about his presence in that gated community.  And it is these notions of gender and masculinity that drove Zimmerman to pull that trigger, to protect his community from what he determined, through the lens of both race and masculinity, to be a threat.

I don't want us to overlook that race had a significant impact on the events of that evening.  I do want us to consider that gender, masculinity and maleness also had something to do with Trayvon's death.  But if we fail to look at gender also, we miss out on an opportunity to highlight an extremely important component of this atrocity.

The intersection of White privilege and gender normative male dominance is what drove Zimmerman to kill Martin.

Yes, we must definitely address the fact that Racism is still alive and breathing in our country.  That it defines and dictates the experiences of people in color in a very real, and tangible way.  We address that White privilege is also very real and tangible and that too defines and dictates the experiences of White people in the US.

We must also address the role that gender and masculinity play in the lives of men and boys and how that sometimes leads to violence.

It is Zimmerman having been impacted by White privilege that led him to profile Trayvon, and it was his maleness that led him to confront and ultimately shoot Trayvon.

I'm sitting in a Starbucks, wasting time before I make my way to the airport for a trip to San Jose. I was asked by an amazing facilitator to work with him in facilitating a two-day session with young Black and Latino men.

I'm really excited for the opportunity. I've been doing that work for the past three and a half years, but this is different.

The work that I do now is primarily about retention and graduation. Our efforts drive students towards academic success and the work around masculinity and gender identity happens in our quarterly forums and specifically with the staff whom I supervise.

This involves spending a total of 14 hours (6 on friday and 8 on saturday) delving deep into the ways in which race and gender impact our daily lives. With men. And in my experience, getting men to open up and talk about their lives in ways that are intimate and meaningful can be really challenging.

Maybe these young men will surprise me. Maybe my trepidations are rooted in my own stuff and the difficulties I've had to overcome in my life to get to the point where I can be open about my experiences and the ways in which those have impacted me. Either way, I think it'll make for interesting points of reflections.

My goal, is to be able to travel around the country doing this kind of work with young me on a regular basis. But I'll be sure to share my thoughts afterwards.

On Monday, one of my colleagues who is new to Twitter asked me if I had caught the tweet that Roland Martin had sent out on Super Bowl Sunday.  I told him I hadn't and meant to check up on it.  He did mention that the tweets were a little sketchy and that they were in regards to the David Beckham commercial. I remember seeing the commercial so it didn't surprise me that Mr. Martin would say something as ridiculous as this:

Recently, a self-identified white, middle-class white guy from a middle class family background who is a tech blogger wrote an article entitled If I Were a Poor Black Kid for Forbes.com. 

It was the most offensive and disgusting example of white privilege and victim-blaming that I've read in a really, really long time.  And I read a lot.  This is the type of thinking that I usually see from the comment trolls who live behind the anonymity that commenting allows across the internet.  Which I know I shouldn't read, but anonymity allows for honesty.  And that honesty allows me to get a sense of what some people are thinking out there in the real world.

I work in higher education and I surround myself with people (for the most part) that think like me.  So I rarely get to put a face to a comment that is as rooted in whiteness, and white and class privilege.

If you'd like to read the article, I'm sure a quick search will lead you to it.  But in essence, this middle-aged, middle class white guy who writes about technology asserts that if the poor Black kids from inner-city Philadelphia would buy a computer (or get one for free miraculously) and become experts at googling stuff, then they can make it to Stanford or some other presitigous school, and make it out of the poorness and the Blackness that is impacting their ability to be succesful. 

There is more to the article.  But I think you get the point. 

I've read a couple of responses so far.  Both have been almost as damaging as the original.  Almost. I say that because neither response talks about the inherent, systemic oppression that has created barriers for the poor Black kids from inner-city Philadelphia and for this middle-aged, middle class white tech blogger. 


A couple of days ago, I posted the article to my facebook page and couldn't find the words that captured my frustration.  Several of my friends shared their thoughts, but it was one in particular that helped me out of the thought paralysis the article had sent me through.

In her response, the commenter basically stated that she agreed with the article and tht no one can take your education away from you.  This thinking is in line with the bootstrap mentality that is so prevalent in the US.  And really supports the "post-racial" world that a lot of people believe we're in. 

My response: If only it were that do simple. if it were, there would be more poor black kids "making it" out of high school and into college. His sentiment is an oversimplification of the multiple and layered issues of both class and race in the US that have privileged some over others for a really long time. The assumption that he (and you) is making is that poor black kids have access to all of the things he said they need to be successful. I do agree that education isn't something that can be taken away but the underlying assumption is that they are being given access to the same one that he and his kids are being given. Education can't be taken away but students, depending on where they live are being differential educational experiences.

 After taking some time to think, I understand the white, middle-class, middle-aged guy's thinking.  Technology is such, in this day and age, that it can enhance and even improve your educational experience.  Some of the resources he talked about, I use.  Others, I have never heard of.  (Which I might look at given I work with college students.)

What the tech blogger doesn't understand is that his oversimplification of under-utilization and access implies that it is individual students that are holding themselves back.  A poor Black kid has all of these things at his fingertips and A poor Black kid has to do whatever it takes to take advantage of the technology that is at his fingertips.  

The inherent problem in the oversimplification is that it doesn't account for the impact that systemic oppression around race and class has had for generations of poor black communities.  His white, middle class kids have access to the resources that he writes about because he had access to similar types of resources (although the tech is different) that allowed him to be successful in the same way his kids will be.  His family has had generational access to the social capital that will allow his family to continue to be successful for generations to come.


A poor Black kid from inner-city Philadelphia has a family.  And his family has had generational un-access to the social capital that will continue to impede his family's ability to be successful for generations to come.  This is where the interventions need to be.  At the root cause for the generational poorness that exists for people in our country.  This is where the conversations need to be.


This article is what class warfare looks like in the US.  This is the objectification of a poor Black kid.  This is an example of the lie that is if we al work hard enough, we can make it.  

We are not all the 99%.  Let's be real.  Let's be honest.  There are some of the 99% that are more impacted by their class status than others.  And it's this type of thinking...this type of oversimplification of the systems of race and class and the systemic oppression that exists at that intersection that will continue to allow a middle-aged, middle-class white guy from the suburbs of Philly to pretend to be a poor Black kid from the inner-city.

 

When people found out that my partner and I were having a baby, they were ecstatic.  Especially those that have been close to me throughout my life.  Most of the guys my age already had kids and so I imagine my impending fatherhood induced a collective sigh amongst my friends and family.

When people found out I was having a girl, I found that a lot of the people, but primarily the men, I would talk to (whether good friends or not) would say something along the lines of "good luck."  There was a part of me - a huge part - that just flat out ignored the statement and the insinuation behind it.  I was too excited about becoming a father that I didn't want to start thinking of my yet-to-be-born daughter as a teenage girl.

There was the other part of me that understood where this was coming from.  Not because I would have trouble controlling a teenage daughter but rather what was implied by the assertion.  That I would have a hard time dealing with the boys/men that would come in and out of her life while she lived under our roof. And that those boys would be out of my locus of control.

The assertion is problematic for two reasons.

1. The underlying assumption is that she will grow up to be heterosexual. Which over the long term can create a challenging sense of self if she doesn't fit into that assumption.

2. It allows us to exist in a society where we don't question the ways in which we are teaching our boys/young men to interact with and treat girls/women.  Where the fathers of daughers are taught to be overprotective and overbearing, and where we become the heroes in the lives of our little girls.

If we stop telling our young boys that they throw like a girl, or that it's not okay to cry or that there are things that are distinctly for boys that have more value and meaning that those that are distinctly for girls, maybe then will we begin to see a society in which we are excited when a man becomes a father to a little girl.

em

it's been a long time since i've been here. but since stumbling upon flavors.me, i've decided to aggregate my online sites into one,easy to navigate website. you can find that here.

i've decided to focus this blog a little more in my attempts to be more productive in my writing. with that in mind, i'm going to focus on writing more specifically about gender and masculinity and the ways in which other identities intersect with those two. i welcome questions comments and any push back you might have. but i also ask that if you're really to do so, that you be willing to engage in conversation with me in the process.

my hope is that this becomes a place where we can engage the issues in real, meaningful ways.

I don’t often watch music videos. Having grown up at a time where music videos were just being produced and MTV was the biggest thing in television, I’ve long moved away from watching video channels that no longer play…well, videos. But if commercials are any indication of what music videos are like, I’m pretty sure I know what to expect.

Given that, I probably would’ve never come across this video had it not been for Facebook or Twitter. But I did. And I probably would not have watched it considering some of the comments I’ve been reading about it. But I did. And man, that was something else.

If you pay attention to some of the non-mainstream commentary on music, and in particular mainstream hip-hop (and even R&B), you are bound to hear the labels “sexist” and “homophobic” thrown around quite often. I don’t often listen to the radio, but I’m pretty aware of what’s out there and the lyrics that artists are writing.

Apparently, Drake is the new big thing in mainstream hip hop. I’ve heard the song, it’s catchy and I actually downloaded it (I’m beginning to regret that decision now) not too long ago. Amid a lot of speculation as to where this “underground rapper” might sign, he released a video for his song “Best I Ever Had” that was apparently directed by Kanye. I’m not going to post it here but I’m sure if you’re reading this, you have the technical savvy to be able to find it on your own.

It’s your pretty typical, offensive masculine video that offers a plethora of large-breasted women running around in slow motion while he raps/sings his song. It’s also typical in that the concept of the video doesn’t directly relate to the content of the song.

There are two things that are distinctly (or maybe not) different about this video. The first difference being that Drake actually talks about the “concept” behind the video in an interview with Complex magazine. Apparently, the “concept” is that Drake is a high school basketball coach and his team are his “favorites” (or best he ever had according to the song).

Think about that for a second. His favorites are the girls on the high school basketball team that he coaches! Does anyone else see anything inherently wrong about the “concept” being the replication (and by default the glorification) of sexual assault of a minor? A male high school basketball coach taking advantage of his high school basketball team? Seriously?? If anyone can’t see the wrong in that, then you’ve been too desensitized to know better. Either way, it’s a sad day for men and women when we allow this type of misogyny and very disturbing part of our rape culture make its way into mainstream media. More on this later.

The other thing that is distinctly different is that it’s extremely unapologetic in its sexual innuendo. At one point in the video the song pauses while the coach calls a timeout to lecture the team about how bad they are doing and he says this: “when they put the D on you, you take that D like the champions that you are.” Anyone who has any common sense around sexual lingo thrown around by men knows that “D” does not stand for Defense.

In the interview with Complex, Drake states that he doesn’t want women to find his video offensive because of all the “breasts and ass” but to listen to the moral of the story which is that no matter what “you can still be the best to somebody.” Two things. 1. He acknowledges that this video has the potential to offend women. If that’s the case then why move forward with it? Why continue to put something out that you know will offend women? 2. Is that really the moral of the story? Because it seems to me that the moral of the story is that women’s/girl’s basketball isn’t about being good, but rather how good you look, how good you are at stretching in front of your coach, and whether or not you can take the “d” like a champion.

Honestly, for me, the moral of the story is this: Appeal to the women with your looks and catchy hook, appeal to the men by throwing half naked women in your video and you have yourself the next big star.

I’ve read some comments from men (that I usually hear/read in situations like this) that say that we (read: women) shouldn’t blame the artist for what sells (i.e. sex) in this country; that this video doesn’t make teens have sex, etc. And I agree to a point. It’s not so much that we need to analyze what these videos make people do, but rather what these videos are reinforcing in our society.

I would argue that this video reinforces the misogynist, sexist patriarchal society that we live in by pandering to the way men have been socialized to view women...as sex objects, as less then, as only worthy if they are either beautiful and/or sexual beings…but also how they’ve been socialized to view themselves…as conquerors of women, as givers of “the d”, as better than women, etc.

I would also argue that we need to start placing the blame somewhere. We cannot sit idly by and watch these videos as if we have no control over some aspect of media. It takes a viewer for a video like this to exist. If we allow ourselves or our friends to view something like this, and perpetuate (and reinforce) the messages it sends, then we are left to blame ourselves. If we can’t hold Kanye or Drake accountable, we can surely hold ourselves and each other accountable to how we respond or take in the video (and everything that it represents) and its content.

In the comments section of the website on which I saw this video, one commenter wrote that he (I’m assuming here) was going to make “take that d” the catch phrase of the year.

I know that I’m going to do my part to make sure that doesn’t happen…if only in my sphere of influence…and I ask that you do the same.

I’ve heard it on numerous occasions. Sex Sells. And for as long as I can remember I’ve agreed. Although in recent years it’s been with a reluctance buried in the unfortunate circumstances that exist around that statement. Sex sells because of the existence of Sexism.

Until last week, I’ve always felt that its truth crossed the gender spectrum rather equally. That it was more about size and appearance than one’s gender in that if the models look good then their product will sell. That was until a friend of mine forwarded me an email whose subject line read “Best Beer Commercial Ever!!!”

I don’t always read forwarded emails. They don’t often do anything other than annoy me in their lack of thought and purpose. But of course I was intrigued. Being an avid beer drinker myself I thought I’d take a look at the email.

I scrolled down the long list of people that the email was sent to, me included. I kept scrolling past the long list of email addresses that had already received it. And I finally came to it. A mpeg. file at the bottom of the email.

So I click on itand wait for my media player to open. The first image is of a bottle of Guinness rocking back and forth. Nothing else on the screen other than that but you can seethe camera panning out slowly. You start to see more of the bottle as it goes on and then you start to notice that the bottle is actually resting on the small of a woman’s back and she appears to be naked. As the camera continues to show more of the scene you see more of the woman, the curve of her butt, her long black hair and the bottle still rocking back and forth along with her body. Moving in short spurts from front to back.

It stays like this until you see a man’s arm reach from what would be behind the woman for the bottle, grab it, take a drink and put it back. A couple of seconds later you see another man’s arm reach from what would be in front of her for the same bottle, take is if to take a drink and put it back. Get this. A couple of seconds later another man (yes that’s right) reaches from what would be underneath for the same bottle of Guinness to take a drink and puts it back.

The closing caption “Share one with a friend…or two.”

Yes that’s right. You read that correctly. I am not making this up.

My initial response after a series of “wows” and unbelievables” was that this definitely gives new meaning to the phrase sex sells. But beyond that it also for me more clearly defines it as “sex with women sells”. Yes, sexy sells, and that cuts across gender (and that whole conversation is another entry) but when thinking about the phrase sex sells it became apparent to me in thinking back to all of the times that I’ve either said or thought that, that sex with women sells.

Is the initial response when someone sees that commercial “man, I so want a Guinness right now”? Or is it “yeah, that’s what’s up!”? In my experience, having spent a lot of time with other men in social settings, it’s always the latter. If that commercial came on in a bar, there would not be a mad rush of men ordering Guinness or Black and Tans. There would be looming glances around the bar at the women there wondering if anyone would be down for something like that. There would be thoughts of threesomes criss-crossing their way through the fantasies of the men who just finished watching that commercial.

60 seconds. In the amount of time it might take someone to drink a glass of water, Guinness produced a commercial that reinforces the patriarchal system of oppression that continues to oppress women. Not only that but it feeds into this idea that women are objects, and in this case, she is both a sex object and an inanimate object (i.e. table) who is nothing more than skin and sexual parts and a place to rest your beer.

Some may read this and say “it’s just a commercial” and yes it is a commercial. But someone created it. Someone came up with the idea for this and proposed it to several others who gave it the okay. There were multiple people involved in the creation of this 60 second commercial. And no one saw anything wrong with this. No one stopped to think, “hmm, maybe this isn’t a good idea” or “what message are we sending with this?”

I didn’t forward this email. I don’t think it’s something that I need to circulate to my friends even in my disgust. I can only imagine how many people who’ve received this have already forwarded it to others with that same subject line: “Best Beer Commercial Ever !!!” In the email I received there were 15 recipients. If each of those forwarded it to another 15 people that would be 225 people that would have received it. If each of them forward it to another 15 people, that’s 3375 people. And so on. Not to mention that a youtube search of this commercial shows that over 50,000 people have watched it! And how many of those folks do you think stopped to think that maybe this isn’t the sexiest beer commercial ever, but rather a way of perpetuating the oppression of women?

they are driving on a dirt road
in Laredo, the place before I became.
mother gripping steering wheel
like her past – loosely
brother (not a brother at the time)
riding shotgun too young to see
more than air vents and glove compartment

my almost father in the back seat
stuck between passenger side door
and a knife, gripped angrily
in the hand of his best friend
he's bleeding into the leather cracks
he survives because I was meant to be here

my mother tells me when I'm old
enough to understand what
he deserved it means,
that my father had spent nights
pretending that man's wife
was his own

he's not my father, he's not yours either

I've always told myself
that when she is born
I will whisper to her
while she sleeps in the arms of her mother
the sanitized scent of hospital
still fresh against our skin
I will whisper to her
mama, I will never be
like the grandfather
you will never meet
I will whisper to her
I love you, I have always loved you, I will always love you

my friends tell me
I will make a great father someday
I want to believe them
but I know that silver linings look better
when they show themselves in smiles
and I'm just learning to do that

he's not my father, he's not yours either

my brother doesn't remember riding shotgun
doesn't remember his father
cowering underneath the car
just out of reach of death
he doesn't remember
his own cries mimicking his mother's screams
like a recorder
I wonder if that's the last time he cried for him,
our father, who hasn't reached heaven yet
who's aging body
sits aching in a one room apartment
not too far from us
but out of reach from our desire to know him

my brother, the father
held his first
for the first time
at the entrance to the hospital,
sliding doors stuck open
he didn't think to move, his body
frozen in that moment
his smile, filled with the tears
he always felt were better left hidden
behind things or tucked inside empty bottles
like messages, hoping for a reader

but he's not my father, and he's not yours either

what happens to hugs,
left heavy against skin,
when they no longer resonate
the I love you's that created them?

the last and only embrace I remember
appeared out of a night sky
who's details have left me skeptical still,
a two hour visit, me at 15,
he at an age that resembled
forgetting he tries to hide his
but I love you, tapes them to the bottom
of truck stop gifts he pulled out of his bag
but we had already learned
to see through those tricks

he's not my father, he's not yours either

looking at him
was the mirror I had been trying
to avoid, but dead hugs
don't wash away like dead skin
and I realized that I am
unmistakably his son and him,
unwittingly my father

I am building up the courage
to close the coffin
on our relationship

I will lay us to rest
before he has the chance
to leave me again

will make visits to our grave stone,
spend moments together
only in spurts and when the feeling
moves me
but it hasn't moved me yet

I am coming to understand
my brother, the father
when he tells me

he was never my father, he was never yours either

this is going to be a two-part blog...so be patient with me (and yes i know this is uber-generalizing, but if you're a guy...and you don't think you fall into any of this...i would encourage to think again)

so i've been thinking a lot about the whole "nice guy" thing. (have been having conversations as well) i think it stems from the thought that nice guys aren't necessarily seen as sexual beings. so that when someone thinks "nice guy" they picture a man, not necessarily attractive, sitting in a coffee shop reading a book, or writing love poetry, always remembering the little things, is a great listener, etc. and he's cute. nothing more, nothing less.

so i hear a lot of nice guys complain about being seen as just that...a nice guy...a nice asexual guy, a nice asexual guy that's great to have coffee with, to talk to and who'll listen, etc.

i can't lie...i tend to fall into that category of "nice guy" and i've been one to complain about those sentiments from time to time. standing in the distance as i watch those rough and rugged men take home the women that then complain to me about how he's an asshole, he's a pig, etc...and then i'm left to wonder "why not me?"

what am i doing...or not doing that puts off the vibe that i can't be good too. that i can't handle my own in the bedroom...etc. not that it's just about that...but just thinking about the asexuality of nice guys. so it comes as a surprise when we turn out to be a little freakier than imagined. so i guess my question is this:

why are nice guys seen as asexual?

part 2:
the other thing that i got to thinking about was the fact that as a nice guy, we're held to different standards than the not-so-nice guys. the bad boys are expected to, well you know, be bad boys, to be disrespectful, to treat women like garbage, to feed into the patriarchal system that is oppressive to women (and hurtful to men as well) and the list can go on. but those of us that are considered to be "nice guys" are expected to be the opposite of that.

so this is where the dilemma comes into play. as men, we're all socialized in this patriarchal society. yeah we all have different experiences...blah, blah, blah...but we in essence all learn the same types of things. i think nice guys are just better (for a multitude of reasons) of supressing those. but the thing i struggle with is that when nice guys mess up...when we make a mistake that is expected of the bad boys, it seems to be a huge disappointment.

there's nothing that burns more furiously in the soul of a nice guy then being told "i thought you were different" i think that's partly because we've believed we're different for so long...that when we realize that we're not...and the disappointment that comes along with that (both externally and internally) it's crushing...devastating.

but is it realistic to have those different standards? nice guys after all...are GUYS...

anyway...i'd love to hear your thoughts

so...i'm on a lot of listservs where i get some pretty good emails with information regarding social justice. this one came through a little while ago.

I’m starting to hear it more often. Not just from the students I interact with, but from folks I’m interacting with who work on college campuses. They are mostly newer professionals but it’s happening nonetheless.

I’ve started to take notice of how often it happens and who’s saying it. And I’ve been really intrigued by it.

The idea being that labels shouldn’t exist.

The labels that these folks are referring to are labels such as Latino, white, person of color, bi-racial, gay, female, etc. These labels served as a unifier for marginalized communities and were, and continue to be pretty common among them. They were a badge recognizing that one was a part of a larger community.

I’ve heard this before. This idea that labels shouldn’t exist. But for the most part it was coming from folks who came from privileged identities or groups. For example, a couple of years ago, it was very common for me to be having a conversation with a group of white students and for them to question the need for labels with regards to race.

“Why can’t we just be people?” I would get that question all the time. And my response was always first, agreement. And second, I would engage them in a conversation about what it meant for them to deny a person’s right to label themselves. If I want to refer to myself as Latino or Chicano, then that should be my prerogative, right?

But things are different now. More and more I am coming across folks from marginalized or oppressed groups who just want to be people too. Who don’t want to be labeled as this or that. And I think a part of it is that the labels that we have aren’t always inclusive of the multiple identities that people carry with them. The one that constantly comes to the surface for me is with regards to race.

We are living in a more racially diverse community, with people having children across racial lines. And it’s the children of these relationships that began to push the envelope with regards to labeling from marginalized identities.

More recently, I’ve started to see it from other groups as well. More people are starting to take on the mentality that labels shouldn’t exist. That people are people.

And that’s something that I’ve struggled with. Always having been proud of who I am and what that has taught me, it’s difficult to not identify myself in those ways.

It’s been especially difficult considering that for the work that I do around social justice education, Identity “politics” (for the lack of a better word) is integral. So I’ve struggled with how to hold both of them in the conversation. How do we allow people the room to not have to label themselves while also engaging in a conversation about how these identities matter?

I had a revelation or sorts the other day. As I was sitting in my office, looking out the window I was reflecting on the following question: how do we shift our work (around social justice) to reflect students ideas/beliefs that labels shouldn’t exist?

In thinking about how to do that, in how to answer that question, I came to this conclusion.

Just because we are starting to believe that labels shouldn’t exist, doesn’t mean that the oppression associated with them doesn’t exist.

Just because one doesn’t want to be labeled by their race, doesn’t mean racism doesn’t exist or will cease to exist. And you can fill in any identity marker and the same will still ring true.

rainy day women

I’m not sure if anyone has ever heard this phrase before. “rainy day women.” I was hanging out with some men the other day and one the guys brought up this phrase. “Rainy day women.”

I’ll try to explain what it is. From my understanding through the conversation that ensued, a “rainy day woman” is a female friend that a man can call on when he’s feeling lonely...and needs to feel some sense of belonging…or being wanted…or loved. it’s not a booty call. that’s something different. that’s someone you call just when you want to, you know, do your thing.

a rainy day woman is something different. yes, there may be sex involved, but it’s more than that. and sometimes it’s not that at all. what it is, is that for men, it’s having someone that we can call on when we’re feeling lonely, when we’re feeling the need to be loved, when we just want to feel connected to someone that mimics being in a relationship. but the thing is, is that it’s just in those moments, when men have these needs, that that emotional connection happens.

and after that’s gone, after that desire to feel wanted and loved passes, it’s back to the same ol’ friendship. in whatever way it happens to exist outside of these particular moments.

this isn’t friends with benefits as I have already mentioned. I think there is something deeper happening here. I think there’s something to be said about the using and walking all over someone that happens in these rainy day relationships. it’s like a rollercoaster, but one person is the operator and the other is being put through this rollercoaster of emotions.

I’ve never experienced these as two-way streets. I, unfortunately, have been on both sides of the coin (there can definitely be rainy day men as well). So I know all to well what it means to be in this kind of relationship. and it isn’t pretty for the person who’s in the rainy day position.

but what is it about? why do we sometimes look for these rainy day people in our lives? why is it that just in those moments, when we feel in the most need, do we call on that same person? pull their strings, give them hope that there could be something more. stringing them along with the idea that someday something more can exist between them. why do we do that?

it’s selfish. extremely selfish to think that we can place ourselves in a position to determine when a relationship is warranted and when it’s not. kind of like a light switch. turn it on when it’s convenient, turn it off when it’s not.

maybe it's more than just the fear of intimacy. maybe it's about taking advantage of the opportunity that this situation creates. but why do we feel compelled to take advantage like that? what value are we placing on that other person...or lack of value are we placing on that person where we can do that?

i don't know if you've been following the news recently, but there have been numerous news stories related to the number of teachers who've lost their licenses for various reasons...including failure to pay taxes, drunk driving, etc. but one that i read today in the journal sentinel really caught my attention....read it through this link...

A Split Along Gender Lines

I think it's really intriguing...this disparity in how young boys and young girls who are victims of sexual assault by their teachers are treated.

for boys, a lot of times it's seen as a sexual conquest, something to be high-fived in the locker rooms and lunch tables. it's also seen that way by older men, who then reminisce on their own teacher crushes and what that might've been like. these boys are looked up as being better than other boys because they were able to have sexual relations with their teachers. they are seen as lucky. but why is that? and RARELY seen as victims. which is also intriguing which i will come back to later.

but why is it that young boys who have sex with older women are seen as lucky? why aren't they seen as victims of sexual abuse/assault/rape? i think this speaks to a larger issue as well. at what point does this change? at what age does it become taboo to have sex with older women? when the man is 30? 35? and what is that age for women? at what age do the become invisible to the sexual desires of men? 25? 30? and why is that men get to define this? and then what happens at that age for men?

i would argue that it then becomes en vogue to be with younger women. it's as if the greater the age disparity (older man/younger woman) the better. why is that valued in our society? i guess one would argue is because we as men are the ones that get to determine that.

on the other side of the coin, young girls are always seen as victims and are seen as being either a seducer of these older men or as naive victims. in response to the first one. if the young girl is seen as the seducer, what does that say about the male teacher? basically, i read it as he didn't really have a choice, he couldn't say no to her seductive ways. but is that really about her, or about his inability to say no to sex...even knowing that it isn't right? in either case, sometimes the female student gets harrassed by other students, especially if the male teacher is someone who is favored in the school. really intriguing stuff.

it's also important to look at the differential treatment that the teachers who engage in this behavior receive. if you think back to the numerous cases that have made the headlines over the past several years, it's been (at least that i can remember) most, if not all female teachers who have received the media attention.

if almost 9 out of 10 teacher-perpetrators are men, why are women getting the most attention? and why is it that women are getting some form of incarceration (jail time, house arrest) while the men are just getting their licenses revoked?

it's as if it's more wrong for women to engage in sexual assault of minors than it is for women. ridiculous.

the other part of it is in terms of how these boys are not treated as victims. it's cool to have sex with older women. at least that's the thought. not consideration is given to the messages that the high-fiving, the labeling of lucky sends to these young boys...and how that then manifests itself as these young boys become men. i
n the case brought up in the article about a 12 year old boy who had sex with his teacher...ended up having his life "marred by affairs, gambling and failed marriages". when we don't refer to these young boys as victims, we tend to neglect the psychological impact that this incident/act has on these boys. and that's a problem.

what message does it send? that it's okay to view women as sexual objects...to view them as conquests...to view them as levels of attainment. it devalues the importance of the intimacy of relationships, and minimizes sex to something that is to be high-fived with their male counterparts.

to come back to the victim label...and how it isn't given to these young boys. it's as if it's taboo to be seen as a victim of sexual abuse. if it's perpetrated by a woman, for the boy it's to be expected and congratulated...not taken to the police. if it's perpetrated by a man (to a boy), for the boy it's an experience that is never to be talked about.

in either case, to be seen as a victim of sexual assualt...is to be seen as less of a man than our male counterparts.

i think that's really intriguing...and i'd love to hear your thoughts.

it’s interesting what you notice when you start to pay attention to your surroundings. especially when people around you begin to share what they experience, even if it’s something you’ve never experienced before.

but why does this happen? what is it about light-skinned women of color that makes them invisible to white people?

so…last night…I was having a conversation with a friend of mine (tina) about identity stuff. I was going through what a typical workshop around social justice might look like based on what I’ve done in the past. she shared with me an activity in which she had participated where she was asked to define the things that were important to her (this was in a group setting).

peace

isn't that long in between posts. enjoy...

I was sitting in a circle of students and as an icebreaker we had them go around and share what song/album/artist they were listening to a lot of lately. And many of the usual suspects came out. Lupe Fiasco, Evanescence, Blue October and some independent acts to name a few.

(The following is a transcript of Stephen Colbert's speech at the White House Correspondents Dinner. The President was there, and apparently he was not amused. Easy to see why. This is amazing.)

Here with a special edition of the Colbert report, Stephen Colbert.

Thank you ladies and gentlemen. Before I begin, I’ve been asked to make an announcement. Whoever parked 14 black bullet proof S.U.V.’S out front, could you please move them. They are blocking in 14 other black bulletproof S.U.V.’S and they need to get out.

Wow, wow, what an honor. The White House Correspondents’ Dinner. To just sit here, at the same table with my hero, George W. Bush, to be this close to the man. I feel like I’m dreaming. Somebody pinch me. You know what, I’m a pretty sound sleeper, that may not be enough. Somebody shoot me in the face.

Is he really not here tonight? The one guy who could have helped. By the way, before I get started, if anybody needs anything at their tables, speak slowly and clearly on into your table numbers and somebody from the N.S.A. Will be right over with a cocktail. Mrs. Smith, ladies and gentlemen of the press corps,

Mr. President and first lady, my name is Stephen Colbert and it’s my privilege tonight to celebrate our president. He’s no so different, he and I. We get it. We’re not brain backs on the nerd patrol. We’re not members of the fact (police). We go straight from the gut, right sir? That’s where the truth lies, right down here in the gut. Do you know you have more nerve endings in your gut than you have in your head? You can look it up. I know some of you are going to say I did look it up, and that’s not true. That’s but you looked it up in a book.

Next time look it up in your gut. I did. My gut tells me that’s how our nervous system works. Every night on my show, the Colbert report, I speak straight from the gut, ok? I give people the truth, unfiltered by rational argument. I call it the no fact zone. Fox News, I own the copyright on that term.

I’m a simple man with a simple mind, with a simple set of beliefs that I live by. Number one, I believe in America. I believe it exists.

My gut tells me I live there. I feel that it extends from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and I strongly believe it has 50 states. And I cannot wait to see how “the Washington Post” spins that one tomorrow. I believe in democracy. I believe democracy is our greatest export. At least until China figures out a way to stamp it out in plastic for three cents a unit.

In fact, ambassador, welcome, your great country makes our happy meals possible. I said it’s a celebration. I believe the government that governs best is the government that governs least. And by these standards, we have set up a fabulous government in Iraq.

I believe in pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps. I believe it is possible — I saw this guy do it once in Cirque du Soleil. It was magical. And though I am a committed Christian, I believe that everyone has the right to their own religion, be it Hindu, Jewish or Muslim. I believe our infinite paths to accepting Jesus Christ as your personal savior.

Ladies and gentlemen, I believe it’s yogurt. But I refuse to believe it’s not butter. Most of all I believe in this president.

Now, I know there’s some polls out there saying this man has a 32% approval rating. But guys like us, we don’t pay attention to the polls. We know that polls are just a collection of statistics that reflect what people are thinking in “reality.” And reality has a well-known liberal bias.

So, Mr. President, pay no attention to the people that say the glass is half full. 32% means the glass — it’s important to set up your jokes properly, sir. Sir pay no attention to the people who say the glass is half empty, because 32% means it’s 2/3 empty. There’s still some liquid in that glass is my point, but I wouldn’t drink it.

The last third is usually backwash. Folks, my point is that I don’t believe this is a low point in this presidency. I believe it is just a lull, before a comeback.

I mean, it’s like the movie “Rocky.” The president is Rocky and Apollo Creed is everything else in the world. It’s the 10th round. He’s bloodied, his corner man, Mick, who in this case would be the Vice President, and he’s yelling cut me, dick, cut me, and every time he falls she say stay down! Does he stay down? No. Like Rocky he gets back up and in the end he — actually loses in the first movie.

Ok. It doesn’t matter. The point is the heart-warming story of a man who was repeatedly punched in the face. So don’t pay attention to the approval ratings that say 68% of Americans disapprove of the job this man is doing. I ask you this, does that not also logically mean that 68% approve of the job he’s not doing? Think about it. I haven’t.

I stand by this man. I stand by this man because he stands for things. Not only for things, he stands on things. Things like aircraft carriers and rubble and recently flooded city squares. And that sends a strong message, that no matter what happens to America, she will always rebound with the most powerfully staged photo ops in the world.

Now, there may be an energy crisis. This president has a very forward-thinking energy policy. Why do you think he’s down on the ranch cutting that brush all the time? He’s trying to create an alternative energy source. By 2008 we will have a mesquite powered car.

And I just like the guy. He’s a good joe. Obviously loves his wife, calls her his better half. And polls show America agrees. She’s a true lady and a wonderful woman. But I just have one beef, ma’am.

I’m sorry, but this reading initiative. I’ve never been a fan of books. I don’t trust them. They’re all fact, no heart. I mean, they’re elitist telling us what is or isn’t true, what did or didn’t happen. What’s Britannica to tell me the Panama Canal was built in 1914. If I want to say it was built in 1941, that’s my right as an American. I’m with the president, let history decide what did or did not happen.

The greatest thing about this man is he’s steady. You know where he stands. He believes the same thing Wednesday, that he believed on Monday, no matter what happened Tuesday. Events can change, this man’s beliefs never will. And as excited as I am to be here with the president, I am appalled to be surrounded by the liberal media that is destroying America, with the exception of Fox News. Fox News gives you both sides of every story, the President’s side and the Vice President’s side.

But the rest of you, what are you thinking, reporting on N.S.A. wiretapping or secret prisons in Eastern Europe? Those things are secret for a very important reason, they’re superdepressing.

And if that’s your goal, well, misery accomplished. Over the last five years you people were so good over tax cuts, W.M.D. intelligence, the affect of global warming. We Americans didn’t want to know, and you had the courtesy not to try to find out. Those were good times, as far as we knew.

But, listen, let’s review the rules. Here’s how it works. The President makes decisions, he’s the decider. The Press Secretary announces those decisions, and you people of the press type those decisions down. Make, announce, type. Put them through a spell check and go home. Get to know your family again. Make love to your wife. Write that novel you got kicking around in your head. You know, the one about the intrepid Washington reporter with the courage to stand up to the administration. You know, fiction.

Because really, what incentive do these people have to answer your questions, after all? I mean, nothing satisfies you. Everybody asks for personnel changes. So the White House has personnel changes. Then you write they’re just rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. First of all, that is a terrible metaphor. This administration is not sinking. This administration is soaring. If anything, they are rearranging the deck chairs on the Hindenburg.

Now, it’s not all bad guys out there. Some heroes, Buckley, Kim Schieffer. By the way, Mr. President, thank you for agreeing to be to my show. I was just as shocked as everyone here is I promise you. How is Tuesday for you? I’ve got Frank Rich, but we can bump him. And I mean bump him. I know a guy. Say the word.

See who we’ve got here tonight. General Mowsly, Air Force Chief of Staff. General Peter Pace. They still support Rumsfeld. You guys aren’t retired yet, right? Right, they still support Rumsfeld. Look, by the way, I’ve got a theory about how to handle these retired generals causing all this trouble, don’t let them retire. C’mon, we’ve got a stop loss program, let’s use it on these guys. If you’re strong enough to go on one of those pundit shows, you can stand on a bank of computers and order men into battle. C’mon.

Jesse Jackson is here. I had him on the show. Very interesting and challenging interview. You can ask him anything, but he’s going to say what he wants at the pace that he wants.

It’s like boxing a glacier. Enjoy that metaphor, because your grandchildren will have no idea what a glacier is.

Justice Scalia’s here. May I be the first to say welcome, sir. You look fantastic. How are you?

John McCain is here. John McCain John McCain. What a maverick. Somebody find out what fork he used on his salad, because I guarantee you wasn’t a salad fork. He could have used a spoon. There’s no predicting him. So wonderful to see you coming back into the republican fold. I have a summerhouse in South Carolina, look me up when you go to speak at Bob Jones University. So glad you’ve seen the light.

Mayor Nagin is here from New Orleans, the chocolate city. Yeah, give it up. Mayor Nagin, I would like to welcome you to Washington, D.C., The chocolate city with a marshmallow center. And a graham cracker crust of corruption. It’s a mallomar is what I’m describing, a seasonal cookie.

Joe Wilson is here, the most famous husband since Desi Arnez. And of course he brought along his lovely wife Valerie Plame. Oh, my god! Oh, what have I said. I am sorry, Mr. President, I meant to say he brought along his lovely wife, Joe Wilson’s wife. Pat Fitzgerald is not here tonight? Dodged a bullet.

And we can’t forget man of the hour, new Press Secretary, Tony Snow. Secret service name, Snow Job. What a hero, took the second toughest job in government, next to, of course, the ambassador to Iraq. Got some big shoes to fill, Tony. Scott McClellan could say nothing like nobody else. McClellan, eager to retire. Really felt like he needed to spend more time with Andrew Card’s children. Mr. President, I wish you hadn’t made the decision to quickly, sir. I was vying for the job. I think I would have made a fabulous press secretary.

I have nothing but contempt for these people. I know how to handle these clowns. In fact, sir, I brought along an audition tape and with your indulgence, I’d like to at least give it a shot. So, ladies and gentlemen, my press conference.

Via DKOS: [Colbert shows a video of a mock press conference, at which Colbert is completely dismissive of questions he doesn’t want to answer, i.e., all of them. He chooses among three buttons — “Eject,” “Gannon” and “Volume” — to get rid of the offending speaker. But ultimately Helen Thomas causes Colbert to flee in terror from the press conference with her insistence that he answer her question, “Why did you really want to go to war [with Iraq]?” Colbert has difficulty finding a door from which to exit the room, echoing Bush’s experience in China. He finally finds a way out, and runs frantically down the street and into a parking lot. Helen Thomas pursues Colbert relentlessly. He calls for help on an emergency phone in the parking lot, but the attendant also wants to know why we invaded Iraq. Colbert screams, “No!!!” Colbert fumbles nervously with his keys, having great difficulty getting into his car. Finally, he gets in, and continues to fumble trying to get the car started. He looks up and sees - Helen Thomas standing in front of the car! He screams, “No!!!” Colbert manages to drive away. He then takes the shuttle from Washington, D.C. to New York. His car is waiting for him at Penn Station. The uniformed man standing alongside the car opens the door and lets Colbert in. He says, “What a terrible trip, Danny. Take me home.” The driver locks the doors, turns around, and says, “Buckle up, hon.” IT’S HELEN THOMAS!!! “No!!!”]

STEPHEN COLBERT: Helen Thomas, ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Smith, members of the White House Correspondents Association, Madame First Lady, Mr. President, it’s been a true honor. Thank you very much. Good night!

here is one of my newest pieces...

untitled

as men, we’ve been taught
to stick together
to call each other family
and hold on to that sense of brotherhood
with the urgency of minutemen
raging behind the guise of patriotic duties
to protect american soil from illegal aliens

but that sense of brotherly discourse
doesn’t leave room for disagreement

so we believe it when he says
she wanted it just as bad as he did
and it didn’t matter that she might
have had too much to drink
and that her eyes screamed
help me like lost children
because we’ve learned to hear silence
as an okay to do what we want
without feeling the need to question it

and while she wakes up in her apartment
trying to put together the puzzle pieces
of the night before
working under the premise that they all
have come from the same picture
he wakes up to congratulatory high fives
which he translates into I’m the fuckin’ man
and it doesn’t even matter
that I didn’t join in the praise-giving;
it doesn’t matter that I found my way
back to my seat
without an utterance of incongruence;
what has come to matter
is that I didn’t say anything.

I didn’t say anything at all
to make him
believe that what happened
wasn’t consensual
that silence doesn’t mean yes
that her talking to him
may have been just that
talking
and not the green light
he constantly looks for
while under the direction and guidance
of korbel and cokes
and simply seeking to satisfy the urge
to quantify his manhood
with tick marks on his penis

and because of this
she isn’t seen in quite the same way
she used to be
and he is studied with envious eyes
being questioned about details that should
have never been created into memories he shares like
tattered photo albums
over a six pack of beer

now
her body reads easy
like children’s books
and other men assume they can take her off her shelf
flip through her pages
and not take the time to read the words
encrypted with pain we haven’t learned to digest
and make sense of

see but they don’t take the time
to ask her the right questions like…
how was your day? or
what did you want to be when you grew up? or
something as simple as
what’s your name?

questions
she doesn’t believe she know the answers to
but linger;
wavering in her mind
like obscure childhood images,
childhood images
she’s buried behind
the scars left by a father too consumed
with the consumption of libations
to realize
she’s calling out daddy
like she used to when she was
3 or 11 or 17 or 21
and just wanted him to pick her up
because on that particular day
she just wanted someone to pick her up
and right now
she’s sitting somewhere
probably just wanting someone to pick her up
but we haven’t even realized
that she’s fallen.

"it's been a while" in the subject line of all my posts...

but...it's been a while.

anyway...the new book is doing well. i think i have a newfound appreciation for independant hip hop artists...such as el guante and starr...it's definitely a hustle trying to sell your stuff out your trunk...or in my case...out my bookbag. but it's cool. been going well. have gotten some really good responses. and even got my first ever review! it was cool to see my name...and my book being reviewed.

haven't been doing much writing lately...have three new poems i'm working on. (and no...bert...they're not about you...yet) but they are works in progress. we'll see if i can get them done soon. got the madison poetry slam coming up in less than a month. and would like to use some new stuff....that i'm familiar with...

which reminds me...i gotta really work on memorizing my stuff.

anyway...hopefully will be back sooner than later...

so prayer vigil is out and ready for consumption. had a book release event at the rainbow bookstore co-op here in madison last friday and it was standing room only. not that the rainbow is that big but we had a good turnout...which means i did well in terms of sales for the night.

if you're looking to pick your copy of the book up...hit me up. i have them with me all the time. and they are on sale at rainbow here in madison.

anyway...so i ended up trading books last friday with a poet who just happened to be in town that night...i won't say that poets name...but yo...i must say that for someone who is going around the country doing spoken word sets...the written poetry in this book is not that good. i had a really hard time not putting the book down. i won't say who it is but rather what it is about this poetry that made it so bad.

1. this poet uses a lot of forced rhyme...there are a lot of poets out there that i think are hot that use a lot of rhyme but it isn't the type of rhyme that requires messing with sentence structure in order to make it fit. it just makes the lines sound awkward at best.

2. calling yourself queen, king, goddess or anything else that makes you out be anything other than a person writing a poem is not cool. or even referring to your third eye (if i can borrow from el guante's poetry slam drinking game). especially when the poem is directed at a certain audience like men...or white people...or haters...or whatever...like you do this to me...but i fight back because i am king or something like that...

3. swearing has it's place in life...don't get me wrong...but i don't think it always has to be in poetry...it allows for poets to not be as creative as they can be...saying fuck in a poem can convey that you're angry...but to be able to put that anger into more words than just fuck...now that can be cool...

anyway...maybe i'll try and write a bad poem to share as an example...

i'm out....

em

since i've last posted...but it's been a pretty hectic summer. from taking time off to be with the fam...to getting injured and HAVING to take time off...to working on chapbook number 2...it's been a long summer. fortunately things are moving in the right direction.

so i'm back at work now...having mostly recovered from my injury (a long story that i care not to repeat). and starting to get back into the swing of things. also been working on the second book prayer vigil and trying to get that done. well it's done...at least the layout. just waiting to look at the proof for the cover. on that note...a shout out to josh toro on putting out a great design for the cover...its gonna make the book that much better.

but anyway...18 new pieces in this book. scheduled to be released august 19th. yup the 19th...next week friday. having a release party that night...7 pm at rainbow bookstore co-op in madison. the after party...at the slipper club after 10. come through...check it out...and buy a book. it will also be the official release of josh healey's book...

so yeah...come through...support your local poets. if you can't come through...let me know. i'll get one to you somehow.

peace and poetry...