Reflections On The Forty-Fifth Anniversary Of ‘Let’s Get It On’

It wasn’t until after the abuse that I really began to appreciate Marvin Gaye.

My first relationship was a two-year carousel ride of gaslighting, honeymooning, and coercion. He was the first boy I’d ever held hands with. I was fifteen, and terrified of my body. Ever since I’d transferred schools in seventh grade, rumors were rampant that I was a lesbian. The gossip started because I’d never dated anyone, and it escalated when I didn’t emphatically deny it. Dating him, I thought, made sense.

Together, we crossed off a lot of my “firsts”: first slow dance, first kiss, first sexual assault. What had first seemed like simple love slowly mutated into an impenetrable bond. Even now, I lack concise language to accurately describe our eventual relationship, except to say that it was complicated. (I struggle even with the adjective “abusive,” but that’s another conversation for another time.)

I don’t remember exactly when I first heard Let’s Get It On, but I estimate it was after our breakup, sometime in my late teens. In retrospect, the album seems to have melted into those adolescent memories, superimposing its rhythms onto my experiences. I do remember feeling an immediate comfort in the music. It was sexual, yes, but there was no threat in the songs. Instead, he sang about respect and spirituality. He sang about making peace with the fact of a human body.

I would later learn of the indescribable, lifelong abuse that Gaye endured from his father. I would learn about the violence that Gaye inflicted upon his second wife, Janis, who inspired him to write “If I Should Die Tonight.” I would learn how, one day before his forty-fifth birthday, Gaye’s father shot and killed him. I would learn how Gaye’s sister, Jeanne, contended that Gaye had wanted to die, that he “knew just what he was doing” when he picked a fight with his father. I would begin to question those easy ideas of physical harmony.

As with most narratives, my understanding of his grew simpler before it grew complicated.

When I listen to Let’s Get It On today, I listen through the filter of these stories. I hear radical respect, bodily autonomy; obsessive control. I hear these notions rubbing up against one another, sharing space despite their contradictions.

As a young adult, I’m beginning to comprehend just how tangled his music is, how a lyric like “I would never die blue / ‘cause I’ve known you” is both captivatingly tender and unsettlingly domineering. I think of the feelings in a first kiss, when your stomach is filled with the rush of optimism. I give myself a moment to sit with this, and then I think of the feelings that come later, when you’re constantly glancing back, hoping he’s not following you.

- "If I Should Die Tonight" from Marvin Gaye's Let's Get It On (1973)

Aún Camino

Three years ago today, my Grams would've been a century old. Also three years ago today, I finished hiking the Camino de Santiago. While I've been feeling especially mushy and reflective about this for the last month, today is strangely quiet. Anticlimactic. Life marches on, and while I'm still figuring out my spirituality (among other things), I know I've grown since the hike. I've become an adult, one I hope my grandma would've been proud of.

For all of it, I'm pretty darn grateful.

Pilgrims' Mass, Easter Sunday

A Feminist Take on Missouri Governor Eric Greitens' Indictment

Yesterday afternoon, Missouri Governor Eric Greitens was arrested for a felony charge of invasion of privacy. He'd been indicted by a grand jury in St. Louis—a jury of his constituents.

The charges came after news of Greitens' extramarital affair broke in January, just hours after his first State of the State address. KMOV-4, a CBS affiliate in St. Louis, released audio of an anonymous woman alleging she'd had an affair with the married governor before he was elected to office. In the recording, the woman also alleges that Greitens had bound her hands and blindfolded her. The account suggests that, while their encounter began consensually, the woman soon grew uncomfortable, after which he took a photo of her and threatened to distribute the image if news of the affair went public. The woman did not consent to being photographed.

While these claims are abhorrent and disappointing, an equally troubling piece of the puzzle has been overshadowed: how did this audio come to light?

Numerous outlets have acknowledged that the woman in the audio was not aware that she was being recorded. Her ex-husband created the recording, again without her consent. And though I don't believe that this act is as troubling as Greitens' alleged violation and blackmailing, it's still worth exploring. He claims that Greitens' threat of blackmail pushed him over the edge, so he responded to this alleged mistreatment by overtaking control of his wife's words and experiences.

The ex-husband subsequently released her testimony to the public. It's unclear whether she gave permission for him to release the tapes, but if I had to put money on it, I'd guess she had little to no control over how the story—her story—broke. And that's not to imply that Greitens' affair isn't Missouri's story as well. It is. But the core of this narrative has been snatched away from the very woman who experienced this abuse firsthand.

I don't know what motivated the ex-husband to release these tapes, whether it was politics, notoriety, or something else entirely. What I do know is that the woman in the audio has not stepped forward, has not identified herself, and has not had the opportunity to take control of her story without compromising her anonymity. To out herself is to forever be known as the stain that disgraced Greitens, and to lose a great deal of her own identity in the process.

In short: these revelations hinge on a single woman, one who's been exploited several times over by men to control a public power structure. So why is no one talking about that?

A Year Later

It's been a year, and I'm still not sure how to responsibly write about Inauguration Day, or the Women's March, or even the whole last year. I've tried, yes, but it always comes back to the same question: what do I genuinely have to offer to this discussion? And is that question itself even worth exploring publicly?

Maybe I'll figure that out soon. For now, I'll step aside and direct my listening toward groups like Higher Heights and INCITE!, each of whom are working hard to empower women of color and trans/non-binary folks. If you can relate to any of the above sentiments, consider learning more about the activism happening in and around your communities. And if you're aware of any orgs doing work important to you, shoot me an email. I'd love to hear more.

With that, I'm off my soapbox.

Thanks for reading.

Workers clean up debris from the vandalism performed by self-proclaimed "anarchists" near D.C.'s Franklin Square; Jan. 20, 2017