Words
I am not upholding the side.
I live in the Deep South. I did not grow up in the South, deep or otherwise. I’m living the meme. A bright blue dot in a really red state. According to a NYT widget, 930 of the 1000 voters around me are in the opposite political party to mine. [Spring]
Its not about me believing X or Y. It’s about me believing X when everyone around me believes Y. The same dislocation would effect a red dot surrounded by a sea of blue.
Should I say something? Where is the line between living your truth and loving your neighbor? If I’m polite, am I selling out? If I’m impolite, am I annoying people to no purpose? Pissed off people do not change their minds. Is this the right venue? And so on. And so on.
That’s not my issue.
My problem is that I never even get that far.
I react with stunned silence.
Women’s March in 2017. A woman, a professional, in charge of her own business, said she didn’t see what women had to march about.
I just stood there, with wind whistling between my ears, with so much to say that I couldn’t get a single word out. My brain was mental log jam. Where to even start? I could not believe we were this far apart. Maybe we disagree on tactics. Maybe we disagree on substance. I thought at least we all agreed that there was a problem to be addressed.
Another time, a friend was explaining why she was against gay marriage. I couldn’t understand her argument. Literally. I knew the meaning of each word. I could not parse the sentences she was uttering.
More silence.
Early on. Fellow sitting at desk. Me and other fellow hanging out near door to room. Desk dude yells to door dude, “Are you going to the Klan meeting?”
Cue me staring in silence with slack jaw. I was pretty sure they were joking. Time to bait the Yankee. Pretty sure. I should say something. I couldn’t form a sentence that didn’t start with, ‘Are you out of your *#$% mind?!’
I could go on. Some were way worse. Some were lateral. My response is the same each time. Frozen disbelief leading to lack of external reaction, i.e. stunned silence.
It is easy to speak up when you know the audience is on the side of the angels.
Woman who worked with young women: They are being told not to excel because that makes their men feel bad.
Me, flabbergasted: Didn’t we already go thru that years ago?
Woman who worked with young women: I know, right?
[Giving Birmingham Its Due]
I did speak up in one instance. In a tiny way. It involved words. Are we surprised?
Fire department meeting. Situation under discussion. Speaker said, in that case they would send a truck to pick up the firemen. I piped up, ‘So you would leave me and X (other female FF) on the side of the road?’ Pointing out that ‘firemen’ is gendered, while ‘firefighter’ is not. It’s also a way better word. More active. More descriptive. Internal alliteration. But I digress.
The men of the department don’t understand, but they know to expect the fisheye from me if they slip.
[Labels: A Gender Rant]
I would get eyerolls, but I would get the right wording.
Such a small gesture. Does it even matter?
Political activist, I am not.
Bad blue dot.
Update: Proof that living in a blue state is not necessarily a fix, Imperfect Patience: BLUE DOT
Onwards!
Katherine
Virtual Brush Box 