But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough, can you see the stars.

"Well, I don't know what will happen now.  We've got some difficult days ahead.  But it doesn't matter with me now.  Because I've been to the mountaintop.  And I don't mind."

Martin Luther King, Jr. said these words the day before he was assassinated.  I had read his last speech for the first time a couple weeks ago, and this quote continues to haunt me to this night.  It feels like a sturdy hand on a shoulder, a last smile before a fade to white, a last promise to us, a last request we must keep.

Sometimes, it feels like all great people become prescient of their deaths a little.  Maybe it is simply mundane movements that, through hindsight, transforms into strange prophecies.

I think these simple sentences, with simple meaning but also depth of meaning.  It's Neruda's "Eso es todo," or Danticat's "Dye mon, gen mon."  It is final and sad and beautiful and sorta hurtful, in a kind way.

I read a heartbreaking poem not long after I read that speech, John Updike's "Dog's Death.  I suggest never reading it because you will die and I do not need that drama, but take my word when I say that the words "Good dog" are the saddest things you will ever read.

I think these are my favorite works, and it is why I prefer vignettes, short stories, poems to novels.  There is an intimacy.  There is something weirdly honest and true.  Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day is a, perhaps surprisingly, amazing film.  In a shallow glance, it is a period romantic comedy, but there is depth in this simple film.  Right outside of a party of the London's youth, on the edge of the Second World War, an older man tells an older woman, "I don't think I can bear it again."

One of my favorite scenes in The History Boys is a quiet one: Hector, the English teacher of "General Studies", and Posner, the student who remembered all the songs, sit and talk about Thomas Hardy's "Drummer Hodge".  Hector explains to Posner,

The best moments in reading are when you come across something - a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things - that you'd thought special, particular to you. And here it is, set down by someone else, a person you've never met, maybe even someone long dead. And it's as if a hand has come out, and taken yours.

For me, I think it is something different.  There is that moment, in those unadorned words, these characters, these personae, these voices flare up in fierce softness and they are more alive than me.

Think of it as personality dialysis!

So, while I was reading Kristin Chenoweth's response to Ramin Setoodeh's idiotic piece, I was completely imagining that Kristin Chenoweth was complaining to me, personally, as I nod along and snap at the appropriate moments.

"Mm-hm, Kristin Chenoweth, that is so spot-on.  Come, let this heterosexist news magazine filth clutter our minds no more.  While we wait for our delicious fruit pies to finish cooling, we shall ride our bikes to the park while singing!"

And at the park, there would be birds and frogs and boys, and I don't even care because I'll be hanging out and singing with my BFF.

And yes, the entire time, I call Kristin Chenoweth by Kristin Chenoweth's full name.

For the Horde!: The Various Ineptitudes of Allies

Yes, it's a stupid WoW joke, shut up.

Months ago, I was standing in a kitchen and watching as one friend, R., was surprised by another, H., declaring that she was not a feminist and hated feminists.  R. and H. continued talking about it, and A., standing next to me, turned to me and grinned, "Well, we're not feminists, are we, Jonathan?"

I still do not know what that means or how to respond.  My instinct, beyond feeling awkward and not saying anything, is to say, "Actually, yes, I am."  If I felt like A. was making that assertion on the basis that he felt that he, as a man, could not be a feminist because he had no capacity to understand what sexism fully means and thus felt that he should not represent himself in a way that would co-opt the movement(s) from women's experiences.  If I felt like this was the angle he was coming from, I would have had no problem agreeing and then entering a discussing with A. about the topic.

But no, it was pretty clear that, somehow, feminism was laughable or at least male participation in feminism.  I have, customarily, identified as a "feminist" to indicate my dedication to anti-sexism efforts.  Less so recently, due to reading about the issue mentioned above, and I am fine if some people hold that I cannot be a feminist as a male-identified, male-assigned person.  I am not invested in wearing the term "feminist" like a badge; it is a shortcut for me to say that I believe that there is a patriarchy, that there is continuous and varied sexism in the world that acts to oppress women, that I am willing to and have participated in anti-sexism activism, but it is not not a vital identification.  I do not need to be able to call myself a "feminist" to believe or do those things, and it is never my prerogative to preempt someone else's definition of feminism and what a feminist is.

But I feel like if I simply replied, "Maybe not, but I am against sexism," it would be meaningless.  Not many people would say they are for sexism and most would say that they are against it, but there is an unspoken second part of that sentence.  I could be saying, "I am against sexism, which is something that persists to this day that we all participate in and, as men, benefit from in any number of ways," while he agrees, "Yeah, I am against sexism too, and good thing it doesn't exist anymore."

It is the same in any other conversation.  "I am against racism, which is a persistent and complex system in our world that continues to affect and effect everything we do and say and all the outcomes of various processes, regardless of intention," versus "I am against racism, which was totally eliminated by white people working with Santa Luther, who knew his place and how to be nice and appeasing and non-confrontational enough."

It is possible for one to just straight-out say the former, but not everybody (read: me) has that in-person articulation.  It is easier for me to just say, "Yes, I am a feminist," but does that ease in a passing conversation override the problematic aspects of me making that statement?

In a related topic, I had also been reading about the problematic aspect of the word "ally".  Like the idea of "male feminists", as I understand it, there are two issues:

1. People who take on these labels use them as shields to defend and excuse their privilege.*
2. People who take on these labels use them as permission to co-opt the movement from actual women/POC/queer people/etc.

Honestly, I am not ready to personally disavow the term "ally", like I am not ready to personally reject "feminism" as inadequate due to its history of transphobia, of racism, of classism.  (Though I would also feel appropriative taking to womanism or anything like that, as I have never and can never find that feminism does not represent or fight for me as a woman.  Because I'm not a woman.  For me, I find it better to understand people in those two categories as Doing It Wrong.  I can recognize that the idea of "allies" can build coalitions and empower persons who may feel it would be otherwise appropriative for them to participate in anti-oppression causes due to their privilege, while remaining aware of the possibility of and critical of unexamined privilege.

As before, I am not going to assert that people have to accept my understanding or to accept my identification as an "ally" if I were to ever adopt it.

I'm not sure what I am trying to say here.  I think I am just trying to put together how I feel about something I've been reading and thinking about.  I think I am more optimistic because I feel like I have seen that there are anti-racist queer activists and Marxist feminist activists and queer disability rights activists and people able to navigate all these issues.  I know people who could easily be the stereotypically clueless feminists but instead are constantly willing to read and listen and learn.  I have seen my own transformations, slowly absorbing anti-oppression works around me and learning to be aware enough to see all this around me.  I have friends who listened to me stumble my way through explaining what I feel are problematic aspects of things and they were able to appreciate my attempts without demanding I kowtow to their own sense of pride and progressivism.

I just feel good about it, even when I am pissed about it.  Maybe I'm just still young.

*This is an article focused on the first in feminism, but I dislike how it attempts to negate someone's sexual identity, even if that person is a complete ass.