Volaworand What right do I have to celebrate? Shortly after I came out, one of my close female friends in my campus dorm was date raped. Her rape is not my story, but that changed the direction of my life. I wanted to do something, to understand how this could happen where I lived and between people I knew. I spent the next two years volunteering at the local Women's Center where I not only developed an intimate knowledge of photocopier nuts and bolts, I (slowly) started to develop an understanding of how my own attitudes and behaviors contributed to the entitled "dorm-dude" culture. One that could make room for a token gay guy, but still demean women socially and violate them physically. I learned about what we today would call intersectional feminist theories. Then I just called it driving myself crazy asking more questions about my questions. And I learned I could have a very loud voice and that quite often, my voice isn't the one that needs to be heard at all.
I, like everyone else, have multiple overlapping identities. I'm cis, white, male. I'm middle class. I identify politically as green. I'm a recovered Catholic/lazy armchair Buddhist/"who the hell knows what all this is" agnostic. I'm queer. I grew up rural, and now live in a small urban center far from the political center of my country. I'm middle-aged. My family has lived here for 4 generations. While I am mentally healthy (knock on wood) I've twice been treated for clinical depression, hospitalized once after having made a plan to commit suicide, and suicide runs thru my mothers side of the family. Cancer runs thru both sides of my family, and yet I have smoked for 30 years. I'm the able-bodied partner in my marriage. I'm a step-father of an adult bipolar son who has gone off his meds. I am a step-grandpa of his 3 teenage girls and two adolescent boys. Most of my career has always been in management roles. In my lifetime I've made double and I've made half the average wage in my province. And I feel a weight of responsibility knowing that if not for dumb luck I could have just as easily been one of the 47 of my friends who have died from HIV-related infection, many rejected and ignored long before a virus ever ravaged their bodies. How am I supposed to live a life that honor's those who I've lost? All of these parts form the mosaic that is me. Some parts are beautiful and some parts are broken. But they are my parts and put them together my own unique way. And yeah, I am proud of that.
And this year I'm struggling to find an appropriate way to even dare celebrate Pride while the nation just south of mine is undergoing race riots and a pandemic rampages around the world. What kind of arrogant privileged first world friggin' prick am I to want to party and dance when my human brothers and sisters are being held down and killed? How any of us can breathe right now? And here I am throwing a self-indulgent tantrum over whether I want a party or not.
I'll probably never have any answers to any of this but here's what I know I can do to celebrate Pride, this day and every day:
I can acknowledge difference within difference. Not every woman, man, liberal, conservative, religious or non-religious person fits neatly in a box, all having the same monolithic views I project into that identity. And I will try to understand that while there can be some common understanding I may share with other people, they can experience the same events, actions and conversations in completely differently ways. And that is normal.
I can avoid oversimplified and exclusionary language. I can avoid limiting people one identity. By avoiding language that assumes my experiences are the default baseline of normal, I can stay open to accually hearing others’ points of view. I can leave my door open to conversations that might be new or uncomfortable.
I can be responsible the spaces I occupy. I can not just celebrate the diversity of the places and communities I occupy, I can actively look for and remove barriers others may be experiencing in my own social circle, workplace, neighborhood, and daily interactions. I can look at how I treat "the others" in my own daily life, and take responsibility what I am doing and what I am allowing. And then I can do better.
I can seek out other points of view. I can take reasonability to seek out and learn information about identities that are not my own, and not expect others to be my teacher. When people do choose share their experiences, I can take the opportunity to listen.
I can show the f**k up. I can speak up when I see an oppression that isn't my own, and I can be there even when it makes me uncomfortable. When other people are struggling, being margialized, ignored or oppressed I can look for ways to amplify their voice and support them. I can give my time and money. I can give more than my likes and follows. I can vote. I can be there when I am needed.
And I really do want to dance and party, and I want a cake with sprinkles and hell I want a damn parade! And I want it to be for every single one of us beautifully flawed people clinging to this ball of mud together. I wish each and every one of you a big massive confusing and wonderfully happy Pride, every single day.
*hugs*
HAPPY PRIDE TSP!
