No justice for rape survivor

This morning listening to NPR, I learned that Dominique Strauss-Kahn has been released from supervision due to the "crumbling" rape case against him. Apparently the court has come to question the survivor's credibility and are now predicting that the case will be entirely dropped.

Of course this isn't a surprise to me, but it does make me boiling angry. Finally I thought we'd see a high profile public figure held accountable for the sexual assault he committed, but a girl really can't dream that big yet, I guess.

The most infurating part about the whole thing is not the fear that he'll reoffend, which he might, but the crushing weight of the knowledge that this sends such a big message to women everywhere. Don't even try to accuse your attacker. No one will believe you and don't you know it's your fault anyway? I mean, these dipshits are saying that because her story has changed over time (hello! forgetting details is a huge part of PTSD), she can't be telling the truth. Also, she has a criminal past. Apparently that means she deserves to be raped. Wow....

So, pardon me if I seem on edge today. I'm feeling triggered and pissed off and hopeless and I know I'm not the only one.

Blah.

Good news out of Portland, Oregon

Today the City of Portland won trans-inclusive health care protections for all city employees!
My friend Tash was a big leader of the fight, working with Basic Rights Oregon's Trans Justice Working Group.

In my opinion it's about time. I can't even believe that trans people are actually denied health care coverage simply because they are trans. That blows my mind. Apparently Portland is the third municipality in the country to win this basic right. Yay for Portland; I love my hometown :)

Genderless Baby?

My Aunt recently posted a link to this article on Facebook, commenting "Whether you agree or disagree, it certainly gives one pause to think."

I agree with her. I really can see both sides, but I'm not sure whether or not I can choose one yet.

For the longest time I also said that I would like to raise my someday child in a genderless way. It would certainly piss my Mom and Dad off, but it would be a neat social experiment too. I like the idea of letting my child choose their gender identity. I also believe that announcing a child's physical sex to the world and then showing them that they can choose their gender identity sets a child up to feel odd in the world if they choose to go against what everyone else is reinforcing.

However, I can also see the logic in the assertion that not making a choice is also a choice. The kid would also get flack for not announcing its identity...

This one is so complicated. I'm really looking forward to hearing other view points.

Social Justice: 7 Days a Week

So my blogging worlds occasionally collide, creating a kind of supernova of bad-ass, go-get'em, power-to-the people, feelings inside of me. I also, inevitably, have to share my supernova moments. Therefore, dear AOC bloggers, here's a gem of a blog (I wish I had written) I stumbled across today entitled "My privilege and me":

http://dcnstrct.wordpress.com/

Glamour's "Tell Somebody" Campaign

This is an interesting article I read in the May issue of Glamour magazine. I think it does a decent job of coaching young women on how to support their friends who may be experiencing dating violence. I'll be curious to hear your thoughts too.

One thing I really struggle with is how effective a message like this can be in a magazine so focused on a very narrow image of women...It's something to ponder, for sure.

http://www.glamour.com/tell-somebody/2011/05/relationship-violence-the-secret-that-kills-4-women-a-day

~Abby~

What does being an activist for peace really mean?

I was checking my facebook last night and noticed that comments about Osama bin Laden's murder filled the page.  I would say 90 % of the comments were somewhat celebratory, along the lines of "he got what he deserved" or "finally Osama is dead."

I must admit that I felt quite uncomfortable with those remarks and the general happiness and excitement that people were expressing about this man's death.

Yes, I know, he did many many terrible things against humanity.  Terrible, awful things that caused pain and loss for many people.  There is no excuse or "right" reason for any of those things.

I wondered why I feel so uncomfortable with celebrating his murder. 

I would like to consider myself to be an activist for peace.  That means I believe in the world without oppression and violence.  I believe that for everyone, not just for innocent or "good" people. 

This exact issue was brought up to me at one of the presentations I was at a few years ago.  The presentation was about death penalty and how it relates to doing a DV work.  We were asked one important question there: "Can we support death penalty when we're working against violence?"  How is it that we OK (or even encourage) use of violence to "punish" those who have committed an act of violence?  Are we saying no to violence against certain groups of folks, but not others (their abusive partners in this case)?  What does it really mean to work for non-violence?  Do we hold different values personally and professionally?

Post 9/11, the overall message was not to grieve the loss or reflect on the relations we have within ourselves or with others.  I heard a lot of "good vs. evil" talk, increased suspicion towards people who are or seem to be Muslim, and the world won't be a safe place until these evil-doers are dead.  It is a real-life version of the movie "America: the World Police"

I don't know anyone who was directly affected by the terrorist attack on 9/11.  I can't say how I would feel about it if I had lost someone then.  However, I wanted to take a moment to think about it and hope it would give you a food for thought.

I found a column that addresses this phenomena pretty accurately in my opinion.  Check it out!!  http://www.salon.com/news/osama_bin_laden/index.html?story=%2Fpolitics%2Fwar_room%2F2011%2F05%2F02%2Fosama_and_chants_of_usa

Historical Trauma in the Massage Parlor

So in light of my commitment to move into this process of self-evaluation in learning how I hold power in relation to others, I would like to post my first AOC post. This is scary and I feel vulnerable but much like my determination to get to the small village in rural Sudan via a tiny, rattly, shaky Cessna, I'll do it anyway.

My mom in all her awesomeness has gifted me with occasional massages (she pays, we go together - it's a date thing). We last went a few weeks ago. I don't care if my masseuse is a guy, girl or anywhere along the gender spectrum. That evening though my masseuse was an African American guy.

This was a first. And as we walked back to the room and made small talk, I could feel the on-coming analysis. As I lay there on the table and he first started massaging my calves (who knew how many muscles we have there?) I felt the weight of historical trauma, and my own so-easily triggered guilt, in the room: thick and heavy. Initially I was also bombarded, in my mind's eye, by images I've seen in documentaries and historical pictures about Jim Crow, the KKK, and worst of all, the hangings of African Americans on any excuse, but especially for "touching a white woman".

So I started to talk with him. What I wanted to tell him was how sorry I was for the way his people were/are treated, about slavery, about the fact that I'm aware of the barriers he faces as a minority, that I'm on his side. What I told him instead, which is what I tell every person who works their magic through massage, was that this, what he's doing, what he's giving me, was a gift. That I was deeply appreciative. We talked a bit about what I do and he felt likewise, that what I do is a gift to help others. It felt better to talk. Even as he so cautiously, so carefully (more so than any other masseuse I've had) asked if he could move the sheet up toward my gluteus maximus, I felt that he was skating on the line of "what is too much?". I told him he could move the sheet wherever he needed, no problem. (My years of living in a more body-liberal Europe have left me pretty blaze about what should or should not be covered up.)

I felt by the end of the session, through conversation, we had both moved toward a place of comfort with each other. Indeed, that is my truth, and my hope for him with me, too.