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Posts Tagged ‘Janet Mason writer’

My partner and I, over breakfast, were discussing what a leap year is. The only consensus that we were able to come to was that time is an artificial construct. For this reason, Black History Month and Women’s History Month, etc., are also artificial constructs. It is helpful to bring our respective histories to the forefront.

I explored my family history, overlapping with the labor movement and Philadelphia history in Tea Leaves: a memoir of mothers and daughters (Bella Books). My life with my partner who worked for, now retired from, the U.S. Postal Service is also a big part of Tea Leaves as well as my relationship with my mother, especially as I cared for her in the final months of her life. Close to thirty years ago I went with my partner to her African American co-worker’s church on “men’s day.” As I wrote, the end result was that this co-worker liked me so much “she’d stopped praying for Barbara.” That is how change is made — when we enter each other’s lives.

We all live in a world where the history of the many is larger than the history of the few (that of privileged straight white men). And the fact is that the history of privileged straight white men is also impacted by the history of the many. By many I mean those of us all races, those of who identify as queer, the more than half the population that is female, as well as the rest of the many. All of our lives touch.

When I first heard of Foresaken (NewSouth Books) by Ross Howell, Jr., I was intrigued. The novel is about a sixteen year old black girl who actually lived in Hampton, Virginia, who one day retaliated against her overbearing white woman employer in her home and murdered her. The story is told from the point of view of an eighteen year old white male newspaper reporter. The protagonist, Charlie, has gone through connecting with people on a human level, befriending blacks as well as whites. This historic novel is a compelling read, and as I turned the pages, I found myself drawn into a prism where the reasons for the girl’s crime — pent-up rage — unfolds as the protagonist talks to her elderly lawyer, a former slave who is now blind.

Foresaken is a novel where the toll that societal and institutional racism takes on whites (while less oppressive and vastly different than the effects of institutional racism against black people), specifically on white people who dared to speak up on behalf of the humanity of black people, is taken into account. As the author writes:

“I felt I would never meet another man like Mr. Fields. He had been a slave. Now he was free. He once had sight. Now he was blind. Was I feeling what he felt when he heard the whip on his mother’s back? I flicked the cigarette into the street. I sat down on the curb. I was so angry that it was hard to breathe. Who does Jim Crow leave free?”

Another historical novel explores the true story of a seamstress slave from Norfolk, Virginia. The Treason of Mary Louvestre is written by My Haley (Koehlerbooks), the widow of Alex Haley. My collaborated on his groundbreaking book of African American history, Roots, and the subsequent miniseries released in 1977. As it says on the book jacket, “Now My has returned to her own roots as an author with The Treason of Mary Louvestre.”

My deftly brings the reader into Mary’s world as the plot unfolds and Mary copies the plans for the CSS Virginia (a confederate warship) and enters a world where she must take a long journey and face certain death as a spy.

Mary Louvestre is an important historical figure and a strong woman character, some might say a feminist hero.

Raised like “the daughter” of white slave owners, Mary sees the writing on the wall — if they fall on financial hard times or die, she will be sold as a slave. This is the turning point for her. She can stay and let others decide her fate or she can leave and influence history:

“What a fool she had been! …. Not only had she trusted that someday she was to be free, that she would transcend being a Negro slave, she had convinced herself she’d have financial control over her life, real power over her future.

In reality, she was special only as a special pet of her owners. They didn’t physically beat her. Nor did they board her on slave row. She didn’t eat from a peck of rice and throwaway saltfish. Yet, she still felt insignificant.

Her life testified to other Negroes that, if they worked from dusk to dawn every day of their lives to “serve the South” and “make their master’s proud,” they got to keep on doing it for the rest of their lives. That was their prize. Regarded as second-class no matter how hard they tried was the message that she had received. It was galling — and so unfair.”

We all face turning points in our lives. It might be to accept ourselves or to realize how society perceives us. Sometimes that turning point is the realization that we are all connected. Always, it is powerful.

This review was previously in The Huffington Post.

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Note: Part of the following piece (previously published on The Huffington Post) is aired this week on the international radio syndicate This Way Out.  To hear the entire podcast on the This Way Out website, click below.

Gender has always been on my mind — or in my face — whether I like it or not. As a budding feminist and then a young lesbian with short hair, I was called “Sir” on more than one occasion. I didn’t like it, but was happy to have the privileges that being perceived as male brought. I am over six feet tall and trained as a martial artist. Usually, no one bothers me on the street. In my forties, I grew my hair long and went through a femme phase. In the past few years, I lost weight and cut my hair short again. Again, I hear someone say “excuse me sir” and turn around to find the comment is directed at me.

But this time I am over fifty, and I really don’t care what other people think. Recently, I found myself back in a college classroom and since it was a course on anthropology, I decided to use my powers of observation. Of the twelve or so students, I counted nine different genders. This wasn’t a queer studies class — and no one was openly transgendered. But almost everyone, including myself, was on a different point of the gender spectrum.

Feminism helped to open up gender roles. We redefined what it meant to be female. Feminism converged with gay liberation. Men could be different, too. We redefined who could be male or female and what that meant. When I read The New York Times article about the group of five ten to eleven year old girls who want to join the Boy Scouts, I thought “Good for them.” They are my heroes. We’ve come a long way. It’s okay to be the gender that you are. It’s okay to cross the gender line to become the gender that you already are inside. And it’s okay to express your gender the way you want to.

Recently, I came across three excellent photography books from Daylight Books that address various forms of gender expression. In Every Breath We Drew, queer photographer Jess T. Dugan doesn’t put her subjects in a category. Rather, the subjects are united, in her words, “by my attraction to them — and not a romantic attraction, particularly, but a more complicated attraction of recognizing something in them I also perceive or desire in myself.”

The result is an intriguing collection of stellar color photographs — inclusive of soft butch lesbians, straight men, trans men and gay men. In “Devotions” a naked woman kneels on the bed tying the boot of a person who is off camera. The peak of her short hair comes to the front of her head and she leans over the boot and ties the lace as if she is praying. In my mind, the boot is on the foot of her lesbian lover. But the beauty of the photograph — one of them — is that be interpreted by the viewer.

Gays In The Military Photographs and Interviews by Vincent Cianni (also published by Daylight Books) is a starker collection of black and white photographs, which is more suitable than color to life lived in the shadows until the relatively recent repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. The first photo shows a person in camouflage uniform (I assume he’s male –given the shaved head and the hat) looking away from the camera toward the tree and horizon line of the hill behind him. It’s a good photograph and an apt metaphor given that gays and lesbians in the military had to live clandestine lives. In the rest of the photos in this collection, the people show their faces. There’s a haunted quality to many, if not most, of the photographs.

Decades ago, I knew a few lesbians who had been in the military and none talked about violence or war or killing as a reason they enlisted. This sentiment was echoed in an interview with a lesbian who said:

“The people who join the military go into the military not because they want to make war. Most of them go to keep the peace…. It is a shame that you have a perfectly willing gay man or woman very qualified, well educated, well behaved and they can’t serve, while the military is cutting their standards in order to fill the ranks. It’s not justice for us and it’s not justice for the military.”

TransCuba (also from Daylight Books) is a beautiful book of color photographs by Mariette Pathy Allen. In reading the introduction by the photographer, I gained new insight into the life of sexual minorities in Cuba:

“I see transgender Cubans as a metaphor for Cuba itself: people living between genders in a country moving between doctrines. As restrictions decrease, discrimination against people who are gender nonconformists is becoming less prevalent. A lot of credit for making their lives easier belongs to Raul Castro’s daughter, Mariela…”

There are many beautiful images in the book. One in particular seemed to say it all. A trans woman is sitting her bed holding her one week old piglet, feeding the newborn with a bottle. The composition is perfect. Charito’s brown shorts match the headboard of the bed and the side table. The wall behind is the pale aqua that is so prevalent in Cuba and a single chiffon scarf hanging from the wall has pink flowers on it that match the pink of the newborn pig. And the pig is loving Charito, not judging her.
The trans women represented in this book are bravely living their lives — and creating a more open world (without rigid gender roles) that we all can live in — including heterosexuals.

That’s why it is called liberation.

 

To listen to the entire podcast, click here.

 

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hands-Girls-Rock-PhillyGloria-Rohlfs-backLast weekend, our friend Gloria Rohlfs participated in a Girl’s Rock Philly Ladies Rock Philly weekend event.  Girls Rock Philly teaches girls to play music and their weekend for adults was spectacular.

Gloria has real rock and roll presence as you can see in this You Tube clip.  Her group, Rude Folx, debuted its WE’RE NOT SORRY! rock -n- roll rant — a needed feminist statement for  ggrrlls of all ages.

The energy of the event was spectacular — and as Gloria aptly put it — this is an organization that is not uptight about age or gender.  My partner said that it always was a fantasy of hers to play in a rock -n- roll band and plans to participate next year!

Yours truly will be taking the pictures!

Gloria-and-Barbaradrummer-one

 

 

 

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