the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
I dream in color ~ 2001-01-26 - 13:37:20 second day at my new temp job and I�m feeling really hostile. I got a call from the agency this morning, telling me that the place I�m working for called to ask them to ask me to take out my tongue ring. I told them, as politely as possible, that they could bite me. if the job wasn�t so stupid to begin with. or if they�d asked me directly instead of calling the agency (what, are ya scared of me? I thought so�) or if my supervisor hadn�t used the word DYKE in a disparaging manner yesterday� then maybe I wouldn�t feel so hostile. I prolly still wouldn�t take out my tongue ring, though.
I�m working at an assisted living residence for people with alzheimer�s. I know, I thought it would be cool too. but it�s not. I don�t get to hang out with the residents at all, except at lunch. at lunch they sit at two tables�men at one, women at another�and the staff talks about them like they weren�t in the room. like they were furniture. the rest of the day I sit at the front desk, on the other side of a locked door from the residents, and I answer the phone about once an hour, and when visitors come in I take their coats. they don�t let people wear coats in the residence, because residents who want to escape tend to follow around people with coats on. it�s a very fancy assisted living place, and my desk does at least have a very cushy chair. my computer doesn�t have internet, though. and I�m surrounded by this godawful music that plays all day which is just like the music that the mom in american beauty plays at the dinner table. seriously. when the girl from the temp agency called to tell me about their request, she was very sympathetic. she said that she has a tongue ring as well, which she takes out for work every day. I told her that if I felt like my skills were being utilized at all in this job, I might be willing to think (THINK, mind you) about making those kinds of concessions. I also told her about my supervisor�s dyke remark. they�re going to try to find me a new job. so today me�n my barbell are just hanging out at the front desk, bubbling with low-key hostility and reading �the honk and holler opening soon� by billie letts. I dig her. I think I�m gonna start an online reading list, let y�all know what I�m reading at any given time. there�s so many cool books I�d love to turn you on to. so last night was a trip. I went down to the local qualifiers for HBO�s new def jam poetry thang. I wasn�t gonna do it� I just don�t know how I feel about the whole thing, and it cost ten bucks to compete� but my mom gave me the ten bucks so I would do it. she wants me to do anything that might involve me making money off my poetry. so I went, and I was psyched to see a real black urban poetry scene going on� that kind of thing was sorely lacking when I left milwaukee. or if it was going on then, I didn�t know about it. entirely possible. milwaukee is simultaneously one of the most diverse and one of the most segregated cities I�ve ever lived in. intensely segregated. I was the only white girl there. halfway through the first round, this girl leaned over and said �hey, Kelly�did you go to macdowell?� macdowell, my ELEMENTARY school�. seriously. it was cherie fitzgerald, and the minute I heard the name, it just echoed in my head. we didn�t know each other that well in elementary, but it was just like, damn, we were girls together� she said she recognized me by my mannerisms. �you always did have that about you�� I�m not sure how I feel about being told I still have the same mannerisms I had in the third grade. it was fun, though. cherie�s studying IT, gearing up to open an inner city technology resource center, something badly needed here. you go, girl. what was really trippy about the night is that no less than 2 or three of the poets had lines in their pieces about �black men fucking those white bitches��and every time, people would turn around to look at me to see my reaction. um, yes, I noticed I�m white. it�s been quite some time since I�ve been treated as a representative of the entire white race, though. I�m not sure I�m up to the task. I love people way too much to make a good oppressor. in my head kept flashing images of the last time I made wild love to a deep and beautiful man with skin the color and sheen of roasted espresso beans. how much love there was in that room, what spirit, what life, what gorgeous and intimate and true connection. he wasn�t turning his back on his sisters. he was turning towards love. a deep brown brother who calls me sister, who knows that being a sister is so much more than the color of the skin you�re born into. so then it was my turn for the second round and I got up and did dreaming in color. if you don�t know the piece, go read it right now. I�ll wait. so I did dreaming in color�and I tore it up, truly, and the energy in that room was so high, and I could tell by the looks on some people�s faces that I was shaking up their thinking�at least shaking up the way they thought about me, if nothing else�and then some people were nodding and smiling, and some people were openly, deeply hostile. the line �Kelly�s not white, she�s Irish� usually gets a laugh, but last night they roared. I got laughs on lines people have never laughed at before��won�t lie still and be/A White Girl� being one of the most memorable. the folks who�d been thinking of me as The White Girl all night thought it was hilarious. it was one of the most fascinating audiences I�ve ever had. I loved it. such intense reactions, and such a range of them. even the anger that flashed from some eyes made me go �wow�I made you feel all that?� there�s something incredible about being able to inspire such deep emotion with your words. I got off the stage and the crowd exploded, and the woman who was hosting (who looked so much like nisa ahmad that I kept forgetting what state I was in) got to the mike and said �now I KNOW y�all have somethin� to say about THAT.� and my whole body was trembling with that adrenaline thing I get when I really crank a performance, and immediately I was grabbed by three or four brothers and sisters who wanted me to know how beautiful they thought it was. you could feel dividing lines coming down all over the room. that�s milwaukee for you. when I went back to my seat, some women at the next table were glaring at me hard�especially one of the ones who�d had a �white bitches� line in her poem�but none of the hostility was thrown in my face. it�s all good, I can deal with sidelong glances and the sucking of teeth. I really DID something last night. I didn�t win anything, but I inspired emotions as intense as love and hate and everything in between. I changed the way a few people thought about some things. I left there knowing again why it is that I do this thing that I do.
(((rings))) |