teen spirit

I saw a sweet scene in Cold Spring Friday night: Students from the Poughkeepsie Day School held a vigil and concert for Lawrence King, and all queer teens who suffer harassment. Down by the waterfront, this groups of kids sang and gave speeches and hooted in support of one another. Lawrence King was murdered when he asked his best friend to be his valentine. These kids were handing out the love freely.

femme queens against macho crap

Or, not everyone loves a parade.So I've been standing with Irish Queers for a good number of the eighteen years that they and ILGO (the Irish Lesbian & Gay Organization) have protested the NYC St. Patrick's Day Parade. Let me quickly answer the questions this automatically inspires:
1) No, queer Irish people can't march in the NYC St. Patrick's Day parade. They can march in Dublin, in Cork, and in Queens, but not New York. (Chris Quinn, the second most powerful politician in NYC can march with a group of politicians, but cannot identify herself as queer while doing so. She avoids the parade because it brings her worlds together in a way that just doesn't look good for the camera.)
2) Because I don't actually want to march. (Yeah, you guessed it, the question is "Why not go the Queens parade then, or 'your own' parade in the summer?") I don't actually want to march in the parade, but still bother to protest the fact that people can't because:
a) It is a parade thrown by the religious right. See the Ancient Order of Hibernians for more information.
b) City and state politicians march, pretending that it's not a bigoted, Catholic parade.
c) Police officers, fire fighters, and military personnel by the thousands are required to march in uniform, if they are not on duty, and get paid to do so.
d) All this means the city and state are endorsing the exclusive event. Either money or pleasing powerful people are motivators.
New Yorkers wouldn't let the same thing happen if people of color weren't allowed to participate, or people in wheelchairs.
Now, all this said, the St. Patrick's Day Parade is one of my least favorite events of the year. The city is also supporting a whole lot of public drunkenness, groping, and property destruction (for no reason beside drunkenness). It doesn't seem to be called out or punished like it does with the Puerto Rican Day Parade, because, shucks, these folks are so white and rosy cheeked.

When I lived in the city I made the dash to the demo, and then got the hell out of midtown as quickly as possible to not have to deal with one more drunk saying "Lighten up, it's St. Patty's Day!" Now that I live in the Hudson Valley, there's the added pleasure of the Metro North trip. A lot of Irish Americans live here, and that means a train ride of being touched way too much by (drunk) strangers, getting showered with beer regularly, being "treated" to bagpipe music being played in the closed train car, and ducking while things are thrown and the train is torn apart. At least it's a free ride, since no ticket-taker can get through.

I wonder which parade I hate more, St. Pat's, or the Israeli Day Parade. The Israeli Day Parade definitely hosts more outward hatred, hurled at anti-occupation demonstrators. The things said there can knock a person flat. When my friend's mother, holding a anti-occupation placard, identified herself as a Jew to someone screaming at her to "Go back to Jordan," they told her the wrong Jews had been killed in the war. (Of course, she had barely escaped being murdered in the holocaust.)

Then there's the rodeo parades of my youth, though these were mainly about fashion. The animal abuse was saved for the main event. If only all of these parades were really only about an opportunity to wear fancy hats and beaded belts...

mountain mama

It's deliciously warm and I'm sitting on my porch looking at the mountains. It'd be devastating to the area if these mountains were developed (which is always in discussion). Worse, of course, much worse, would be if these mountains were mined. There is a depressing little drive along the back of them where cement factories have already scarred the landscape dramatically.

But that's just what's going to happen to the mountain that my father grew up on in West Virginia. It's been chosen for a mountaintop removal site. They'll be mining coal, as has always been the case in poor, incredibly beautiful West Virginia.
MTR, mountaintop removal mining, is an extreme form of mining, causing dramatic and irreversible topographical and ecological changes. The top 1,000 feet of a mountain is removed to expose veins of coal. The "waste" is dumped in the nearest valley, creating flat land where mountains were. No vegetation survives, but a lot of waste does, and this sludge is stored in open dams. A "benefit" (besides energy) that is touted for MTR is the creation of flat land where none was before.

If anyone talked to the hill people living there, they'd know that "flatlanders" is a mocking term, not a compliment. But no one is asking the residents. They don't think they have to, because these people are poor. Very poor. They'll be grateful for a temporary mine job, right?
With all the garbage about clean coal" floating around the news these days, people who know nothing of the Appalachians might actually believe it is something that exists. People who've lived near mines and have worked in mines know better. Mortality rates are already higher than the rest of the country in rural West Virginia, but studies show that the rate is due as much to coal mining as to smoking and lack of access to health care. This week's big D.C. demo tried to bring the facts to light.

Rural, mountainous West Virginia may be poor, but it is incredibly lush. When I visited Clay Country as a pre-teen, I tried to declare the whole area a national park. The people who live there have a fierce loyalty to the land, their home, their way of life, and the mountains. My father moved away more than fifty years ago, and still gets the county newspaper. He visited the site of his childhood home this past summer, knowing it might be the last time he saw his mountain intact.
Outsiders like to think that these poor, mountain people are backwards. But they sure do like to look at pictures of them, read about their troubles, listen to their banjo music, and romanticize what it would be like to live in the deep country.

Among my grad school regrets are that I didn't take a colleague up on the offer to join her on a trip to visit with various W.V. artists she worked with. I may never see my father's mountain again, either.

Clay Country newspaper from my dad.
"Three generation of Holcombs" photo by Shelby Lee Adams.
Demonstration photo from Coal River Mountain Watch.
Bird house by Charley Wise.

gorgeous

Don't tell the Beaconites, but sometimes I wish I lived in Newburgh. There's a forest in the middle of the city, beautiful old Main St. (Broadway), authentic Mexican food, a happenin' waterfront with an indie movie theater, and amazing architecture. When moving to the Hudson Valley, we looked at a house there: a view of the river, a walk to both Broadway and the river, across the street from a nice, quiet cemetery. The slumlord selling it and done a number on it, though, and it wasn't livable.Sometimes I wish I lived in Newburgh because commuters who do live there get to take the ferry across the river to the train. What a gorgeous** way to start one's day! I know from swimming in the river and from sailing on the Woody Guthrie that the view from the middle of the river is even more stunning than from the banks. Bannerman Island and Storm King can host your hazy morning daydreams.
As I've watched from the train platform as the ferry got stuck in the river ice in the past days, I've even thought it would be exciting to be caught on that boat in that ice. Being on the river every day,* I think, would ground me here, in this place.
*Aside one: Years back I participated in an Act Up demonstration against Coke on the Chelsea Piers. Coke was sponsoring a party for AIDS activists, pretending their own African employees weren't being denied health care. Besides the protesters on the pier, we had a little boat with a big banner going back and forth in the river, podunk Greenpeace style. The people who owned that boat used it to travel to work everyday, from one Manhattan location to another, floating around the island. Amazing that people live their lives that way, on open water, even in Manhattan.
**Aside two: Let me explain my use of "gorgeous." My friend Ron was a recovering heroin addict and had his share of awful experiences. Every day was a big struggle for him, and that fact made him revel all the more in the beautiful, the positive. When Ron said "gorgeous" he drew out the word, bent his knees, leaned back, and rolled his eyes to the sky. "Gooor jus." Ron said, "I threw some candy on the pavement and photographed it. G o r g e o u s." When I appreciate something, I like to take the time to appreciate it Ron style. Bend my knees, make it last.

Photos are from wmbraine

"middle-aged lady" activism

Bangkoks's International Airport is still closed, three days later, after activists blocked terminals and roads leading to and from the airport. Reports are saying "these don't look like typical revolutionaries" and that those protesting are generally middle aged ladies and senior citizens. Better not ignore the wishes of "regular" people!

drilling for gays

I went to one of the protests last week about the CA gay marriage ban. I wasn't happy there. Again and again I don't have all the words to explain why. I can bristle at the "God Loves Gay Marriage" banner, I can point out to everyone that 95% of attendees are white men, I can joke about how everyone there seems to be on their cell phone, and still I'm never eloquent about saying why the demo didn't work for me, why this will never be my issue.

Like in other cities, NY had a huge crowd. I hadn't seen a crowd so big so white so male at a demonstration for ten years, since Matthew Shepard was murdered, to be exact. This was the first thing in ten years that made Chelsea come out to a demo.

Gay marriage has never been my thing. As Ms. Mel of readspeakresist says, "I feel like fighting for marriage is the gay equivalent of Drill Baby Drill. It's antiquated. It's a short-term solution and it's only useful to some of us." It causes other damage, that isn't spoken about. It's surface, no structural changes required, a continuation of the "we're just like you" charade. Like mattilda says "no on eight isn't really no on hate."

Two days after this massive demo, about which I'd received a zillion emails, Teish Cannon, a trans person of color, was murdered in Syracuse with barely a whisper. I found out about her murder tonight, and only by accident. No demonstration, no email campaign, no mention anywhere but the local paper.

Gay marriage wouldn't have helped a deviant queer like Teish Cannon. And I'd rather work for her.

critical mass

granville_bridge_3298, originally uploaded by doviende.

Critical Mass is not an organized group, rather "happenings" that happen to occur in many cities around the world on a regular basis. Critical Mass bike rides bring awareness to the availability of non-polluting alternatives to cars. They also make pretty obvious the lack of consideration city planners give to any form of getting around that doesn't involve cars. In the 'burbs it's worse yet (see pedestrian).

Tousles with cops are standard fare at these rides, since some traffic snarling tends to happen when large groups of cyclists ride together. (Especially when they're in costume or naked.) There's been lots of attention in NY to the cop who tackled a rider last week. But anyone who has ever attended a ride knows arrests, permanent confiscation of bicycles, and cops roughing up riders are all too common. Hopefully this media moment will get more bicycle activists involved.

All that, and the rides are still joyous events.

spice grrrrlz

Radical Cheerleaders, originally uploaded by ispilledmytea.

Anyone who thinks that activists are dry, boring, unhappy, or talk too much hasn't yet come across Radical Cheerleaders. They show up at demos 'round the world in crazy coordinated outfits and with garbage bag pom poms. They're fat and old and queer and political and raunchy, nothing like your high school cheerleaders*! What's not to love?

As with Food Not Bombs, anyone anywhere can start a Rad Cheerleading troupe, write lyrics, and spice up your neighborhood demo. What are you waiting for?

*I do confess, I have fond memories of my high school's "Mat Maids," the problematic name for the wrestling cheerleaders. They sat at the edge of the mats and pounded out rhythms on the mat with their hands. The chants weren't interesting, but the gals were skilled in pounding out complicated and catchy beats—I was fascinated.

bloc

blockades, originally uploaded by abovegroundpool.

Sometimes there's an emergency, and your only choice is to form a blockade. This can be done using trees, boats, tubes, barrels, locks, sticks, wheelchairs, tripods, and bodies bodies bodies.

appo

There's a new film about the popular rebellion in Oaxaca, Mexico in 2006, and the filmmaker is hoping to have the film screened for groups of activists. They are not looking for money, but to share the the information widely. See trailers of Desde el Filo de la Navaja.

free tibet

On Friday night I stumbled across a Free Tibet demo in Union Square, that looked much like this one. I first noticed it (from blocks away) because of the chanting. As I got closer I saw that the whole plaza was filled with candlelight spelling out "Martyrs 49th day, Free Tibet."

The scene was completely mesmerizing, with the group chanting, the candlelight, and the whole group seated with multiples of signs about the Olympics and the continued torture of Tibetans. There was also a table stacked with fruit and incense and cakes, to honor the rituals that have not been allowed to be practiced by Tibetans in Tibet.

Not to downplay the seriousness of the issues being addressed by this demonstration, I have to say that this group knows how to make an impact with a demonstration. Visually beautifully, the chanting acting as a pull, and cake to boot.

The controversy over this years' Olympics is making me reflect on the many, many demonstrations of Olympics past and future: Black Power, Indigenous Land Rights, Palestinian prisoners, and much much more.