The Last Beat of My Heart

I'm most certainly not posting lovely, moving songs from my work computer.

- "The Last Beat of My Heart" by Siouxsie and the Banshees, from Peepshow (1988)

Ready

Free Radical

"Free Radical"

Before Gilgamesh invented

the kaleidoscope and Galileo

the Rubik’s cube, before the

scimitar-horned oryx went

missing, before the tamarind

trees went bare, before the

stars’ eyelids were wrapped

in tinfoil, before the leaves

could gnaw on water, before

electrons made donations,

before the owl wore a mask,

before the wind had a sound,

before the moon had a name

and the smoke a spine, before

the tulips crossed their legs,

before the tongue was

armored, before the ghosts

rode centaurs to riots, before

cyberspace was culled and

belly buttons sown to wombs,

before the taste had an after,

before intellect became

property and thunder

premeditated, before the

New, New World, before a

stone wished to be more

than a stone, before we had a

change of clothes, before the

grass was color-blind, before

the rivers lost their fingers,

and the rain stopped teething,

before the kings were all

beheaded, the gravedigger

neither young nor old, before

a lion was still a lion, before

the girls were all killed, before

the trapeze gave way.      We

hung     suspended in time

by the arches of our curved

feet and this tickled the gods,

tickled them to death.      & I

think our silence cut us loose,

let us go falling from the doubt,

secretly thrilled at the hems

and ever so eager to break.

- by Alison C. Rollins, originally published in Poetry (November 2016)

Better Than This

Today was a tough day.

When we learned about the presidents in first grade, I vividly remember feeling distraught. Why couldn't women be presidents? My inimitable teacher Karen reassured me that, though this may have been the status quo, nothing lasts forever. She supported me and believed in me when I declared that, one day, I would become the first female president of the United States. (I think about our moments often, Karen, and you can never truly know how much your influence has meant to my development. Thank you for empowering me and encouraging me for the last sixteen years.)

Though my own presidential aspirations have long since faded, their underlying motivation has not. I was fortunate enough to go to Wellesley College, where that belief was championed, and where I was allowed control over my own body/thoughts/ambitions, without question. Thanks in part to the myriad positive influences in my life, I firmly and passionately believe that my femininity alone will not define me, and that people across the gender spectrum will soon be treated equally and fairly.

But after the results of our election, it's hard to keep that resolve as steadfast. After all, what have we seen? The most qualified presidential candidate, quite possibly in the history of our country, has been beaten out by a bigot, a loudmouth, a bully. (To rebut your arguments about corruption, I offer you Kristin Palpini's moving editorial in The Valley Advocate.) It's hard not to read this narrative as another case of a qualified woman being passed up in favor of an aggressive and obnoxious man who can shout just a little bit louder.

(Now might be a good time to mention that, though I'm choosing to focus much of this post on gender, many other factors played into this election: race, class, sexuality, education, and religion, to name the most obvious. These are all important pieces of the puzzle, and should not be forgotten. [If interested, I recommend you watch Van Jones's brief and harrowing perspective on the multi-dimensional implications of this election.] I simply chose to emphasize gender because, as a white woman, I feel most authorized to talk about that experience. The lives of women of color, of non-college-educated women, of transgender women, of Muslim women...those are all complicated by identities I cannot and will not ever truly understand. For that reason, I hope you will forgive my narrower focus.)

In short, it feels as though our nation is staunchly broken. It feels as though women and other minority groups have been squashed under the foot of patriarchal white supremacy. This violence has been aided by a broken electoral college, one that has failed our nation and its popular vote twice in my short lifetime.

Yesterday I wrote to myself that "I'm exhilarated and impassioned and full of everything," and I truly was. I saw the potential of our democracy. Today, I feel discouraged and tired. What seemed like an imminent victory, in so many ways, was swept away in a bad dream of hatred. This election was a beacon of change. I believed that that change would be much-needed proof that our society was growing up and away from prejudice and fearful "other"-ing. I believed that we would finally have tangible proof that women are valued in this country. Instead, I awoke to the reality that our president would be a multiply-accused sexual predator, a proud racist, a homophobe, and a nationalist xenophobe. Though I feel tired, I can't imagine what my mother, my aunt, and my older sisters must be feeling: I've only lived under the shadow of misogyny for a fraction of the time they've endured that same darkness.

Despite these feelings, I am hopeful. We've put up a hell of a fight, and I still believe that most of the people living in this country are strong-hearted and true. No matter the electoral results, those feelings of exhilaration linger in my mind. I believe that we can pick up the pieces and make sense of this outcome in order to better ourselves as human beings. I'm not quite sure how, yet, but I know that we are better than this. Together, we will prove it.

And in the spirit of open discourse, I genuinely invite a civil discussion about anything and everything in this post. Especially disagreements.

Thank you for reading. This week more than ever, be good to yourselves and to those around you.

Vote Today

If you're able to vote in the U.S., please go do so. I'm scared. I want to see our democracy kick some ass tonight.

For comfort, here is a photo of a rainbow.

That's all I've got.

Rendezvous Girl

With each day, I'm more aware of the value and finitude of my time. To be honest, I'm discouraged and frightened, because I know that I have an obligation to myself to take my interests seriously. While I still take time every day to write something small, I haven't felt focused enough to make (or even read) anything remotely substantial in several weeks. And though a couple of weeks is only a snap of the fingers, I still feel an enormous anxiety about the passage of time.

I wish I could write some sort of sweet, immediate resolution to that, but I can't. Even if I could, it would be unfairly inauthentic and performative. Today, I will try to simply sit with these thoughts, rather than overanalyzing them in search of a solution.

While I'm sitting, though, I'll listen to Santigold, and dance modestly in my seat.

- "Rendezvous Girl" by Santigold, from 99¢ (2015)