I’m too heartsick to post today. Cling to beauty.
I’m too heartsick to post today. Cling to beauty.
My excuse is I’ve been busy.
Since the Women’s March, I’ve been to at least one political/social action meeting a week. This past week I went to three. It’s exhausting, but other people don’t have the privilege I do of being able to step away from it, so I don’t feel right complaining.
The progressive group that meets at my church is turning into an Indivisible group, which I’m glad of. I’m looking forward to seeing what it develops into.
I’ve also started attending the local Democratic party meetings. I consider myself pretty well informed civically, but I’m learning a lot at these meetings. And yes, I am changing my party affiliation. I’ve been a registered Independent my whole adult life, but to remain so at this point in my life and in our history feels like the worst sort of entitlement. I don’t forsee being ethically able to vote anything besides Democratic for many years, and I live in a closed primary state, effectively shutting me out of that process as an independent. I hope to one day be able to change back, but for now this is the right thing to do.
One thing I am noticing is the party groups seem to be unaware of uninformed about the Indivisible groups, which is definitely not in their best interests. Not all the Indivisible groups are politically focused, but they’re too important a grassroots movement not to connect with as a resource.
Spring is coming, and with it thoughts of seeds and dirt and growth. I’ll start writing about those things again. I need to. It’s just hard when it feels like other people’s lives are at stake.
As you might have been able to tell by the radio silence around here, the end of the year was not an easy time for me.
Don’t get me wrong. We had a lovely Thanksgiving, and Christmas at the cabin was the best ever, with no drama or disasters. I attended church and small group ministry as usual. I got involved with the local progressive group. I bought a mandolin for my birthday.
And yet things didn’t feel quite right. Like I was holding my breath. Waiting.
Apparently I was waiting on hope. Hope can be debilitating when there’s nothing for it but to wait. Hope when you can act is a different thing, empowering, energizing, but hope you can’t act on? That’s hard.
After December 19, things started to break free. There was no hope to wait on anymore. It would be four years of struggle, of fighting and defending and supporting. Four years of action. I could do action. And just as suddenly, things started to break free in my own life. I started setting up my bullet journal for 2017, looking ahead at what was to come. I recommitted to my weight loss (albeit AFTER all the goodies at work had done their damage.) I used the money Mom gave me for my birthday to sign up for mandolin lessons. I’m going to the Women’s March in Philly. (I can’t do the DC one because I have to serve at church the next day.)
Probably the most metaphoric thing of the whole period was that I learned how to bank a fire overnight. This is probably one of those generational things that we’ve lost out on. My mom never could explain to me how to do it, although she seemed to know how instinctively. But as a society we don’t need to tend fires anymore, so we’ve put aside that knowledge. I was reading a book on cabin building from the 1940’s, though, and there was the nugget of knowledge I’d been looking for since I was a kid. Bury a log in the ashes and coals of a dying fire and close all the dampers. In the morning, you will still have coals to start the new day’s fire with. I only used 1 match our whole 5 days in the cabin. My fire died, but the coals lingered to flare again the next day.
I’m ready to relight my fire for 2017. And I have coals to share.
Needless to say, the election did not go the way that I had hoped.
Tuesday night I tried to calm my hysterical trans-identified child and worried again that people might come to do violence on my Bangladeshi neighbors.
Wednesday I worked from home, numb and unable to cope with the presence of other people.
Now I’m taking small steps towards action.
I am doubling my pledge to my church. I am fortunate to belong to a denomination with a long history and experience in social justice issues. While I might not be able to squeeze out more time to work towards these issue, I can at least offer financial support to back up those who can invest the time.
I am matching that pledge with monthly donations to the ACLU, ADL, Planned Parenthood and several other organiztions. I can’t do much, but a little bit every month still helps.
I am pledging to my local NPR station. While they fell far short of perfect, they were still one of the more reliable sources of news through this whole thing. I wish I could justify a newspaper subscription as well. If you can, please subscribe, especially to the Washington Post. They did amazing work and deserve our support.
I think I’m going to join the League of Women Voters. I was appalled at the low turnout this election when it was so critically important. We have to do better.
I’m looking into the idea of developing a digital passive resistance program at church. More on this if it develops.
This election was our chance to stop Hitler. Hitler has stopped being a person and has become instead an idea, the demagogue who lures people into working against their own best interest and better angels to serve his own ends. We failed that challenge. Now we must do everything we can to contain the damage, to prevent the full flowering of everything Hitler represents.
Be like Rory. Help put Hitler in the cupboard.
Took Morgan to vote after work. In 20 years of voting at the same polling place, this was the first time I’ve ever stood in a line of more than 2 people (there were about 10 people ahead of us.) Nothing like people are seeing in some places, but enough to make it feel important. It was Morgan’s first time voting, so we got the sample ballot so I could talk him through what to expect. He wasn’t the only new voter. There were at least two other people in line who were getting coached, both of them in their late 30s or early 40s. We only waited 20 minutes or so to vote. I got a little uncomfortable that the poll workers were recording everyone’s party affiliation out loud, but otherwise there weren’t any problems. And for the first time ever, there were stickers when we finished!
The line had gotten longer by the time we came out, almost down the block.
I made tacos for dinner (I want a taco truck on every corner, darn it!) and a bunch of snack food, and now we’re waiting while the results dribble in.
I’m going to have such an election hangover in the morning…
Humans are social creatures. We need other people, whether we want to or not. And as much as I joke about heading to my wifi-enabled hermit’s cave, I’m just like anyone else. I need a community. I would be completely lost without Nikki and Deb to keep my head on straight. They know this (or at least I hope they do now!) I need to be able to call my mom with all those questions of things I should have learned from her when I was younger and didn’t. but I also need a broader community of like-minded people as a touchstone, a reality check, a support network, a release.
I have been so fortunate to find that in the 221b group on Ravelry.
I joined 221b (goes and checks) in September of 2010, about a month after the first series of Sherlock aired. And it was fun. Lots of pictures of all the cast, behind the scenes information, other things the actors had and were doing, just fun. They were a diverse group of people with a variety of interests but with a similar outlook on the world. Intellect, compassion, irreverence. Rather Holmesian, actually. I had had fandom communities before, and these felt very much like that. Kindred spirits, but not necessarily friends.
Then 2012 happened.
2012 started out good. I decided to give something back to the group. I’m not a big chatter, and I didn’t have access to all the pictures people were posting, but what I was was an organizer. I had taken part in the 2010 Ravelympic Games (now renamed the Ravellenic Games due to ridiculous trademark issues), but 221b hadn’t had a team, so I’d played for Team TARDIS. But I didn’t really know them, and hadn’t felt like part of that community, so I thought this time I would lead a team for my group. Which was EXCELLENT. Come on, the summer Games in London of all places! What could be better for a Sherlockian than that! we ended up with about 150 people on the team, and since the RG mods had created a British Cricket event for all things British, we started a side challenge with Team TARDIS for who could create the most British themed items during the course of the Games, averaged to account for the hugely different team sizes (TARDIS had about 400 players). We decimated them, with over 100% average. Even in the raw numbers, we were huge. I think we were only 7 projects fewer than them, which considering how many more people they had, was epic. We all realized what competitive natures we had and bonded through the insanity. It was wonderful.
What wasn’t so wonderful was my breast cancer diagnosis. That came through in April of 2012, and I started chemo at the beginning of June. It sucked. I was grateful to have the Games to distract me, and my friends there to hold my hand. What I didn’t realize was that my digital friends were doing the same. When I told the group about my diagnosis, they all got together and knit me hats. Hats galore! Hats from Sweden and New Zealand and Canada and New Jersey. Cloches and berets and chemo caps. It was wonderful, and every time I picked one to wear, I thought about my digital family. And behind my back, they all got together and made me a comfort blanket out of squares donated by the group. I still have this on my bed as a reminder of the kindness of these not-quite-friends-but-not-strangers. And they fundraised to help pay some of my bills. I hadn’t expected any of it (well, maybe the hats). I felt like I was important to someone. I’d missed that.
Once the Rav Games ended, there was a bit of a hole in my activities, so I joined Nerd Wars. (Yes, I still owe you the NW post). Within a week of joining the 221b team, I was co-captain. We were a small team, only 12 people or so, but it was a fun group, and I got to put my organizational skills to good use. At the end of that round, I stepped up into the captaincy, and we put in place the rotating captain policy that is still in use by the team. No one person gets stuck with all the responsibility nor has to suffer burnout. That was round 5. By the end of my tenure, we’d generated enough interest to easily make a full team for round 7. By round 10, we were one of the biggest teams in NW. and all of the team members developed a closeness and comradeship that you don’t usually see in a group like this. We were a safe space to talk about ANYTHING, religion, politics, sexuality, mental health issues, money, education, ANYTHING. And that carried back to the 221b group itself (and from the group back into the NW team). this was what community building was all about.
And then the 2014 Ravellenic Games happened.
It started small. I started the thread for the 2014 Winter Games team back in September. The last Games had been so much fun, I couldn’t wait to get started. But the word was getting out about the anti-gay laws being passed in Russia, and many of us had concerns about supporting a Games that wasn’t safe in a place that didn’t think many of us had a right to exist. So I went to the RG leadership and suggested that they do a rainbow-themed event to show solidarity with those being persecuted in Russia. The answer I got back was that the Games were a politics-free zone and nothing like that would be done. This was not a good enough answer for any of us. So, like we had with the British Cricket challenge in 2012, we decided to do our own rainbow challenge.
Word got around.
We started getting people from other teams coming to us wanting to make rainbows. People started talking about the Rainbowllenics challenge in the official forums and asking why the mods weren’t doing something similar. And people started calling those same mods on their decision and the use of the word “politics” in what was really a social justice issue. Meanwhile in our group, we were educating ourselves and others on the multiplicity of sexuality, from the differences between bi- and pansexual, the diversity of expression for asexuals, issues for trans people, all of it. And more and more people were coming by to join in the conversation. In the end we had over three thousand people reading our discussions. This in our little hole-in-the-wall knitting and fandom community. We gave more and more people confidence to speak up in the Rav Games group, decrying the mods policy. In defending themselves, the mods began to say indefensible things, which they were called on.
And then, suddenly, the Games were cancelled.
We were all shocked. Tired of what they felt was the abuse they were getting from the community, the mods decided to take their toys and go home. They cancelled the Games and locked the forum.
What they didn’t realize was that the issue and the Games had grown beyond them.
Casey, one of the owners and administrators of Ravelry, unlocked the forum and gave the group permission to reform under new leadership if there was interest. The community decided to elect new moderators to run the Games. Feeling like I had had a hand in bringing this about, I felt obligated to help fix it, so I stood for election and was one of the five chosen to run the Games. (Hoo-boy) But I knew all the 221bers were behind me as emotional support. We’d made this happen, and we would make it run right. The Rainbowllenics challenge became an exhibition event as it should have been all along, and the Games ran, not without problems, but successfully. Considering we’d had 5 weeks to pull it all together and the previous mods didn’t give us any of their tools or lists or anything, we felt pretty chuffed.
When the Rav team flew the Pride flag over the site this week, all of us in 221b felt a bit of another kind of pride, that we had helped make that happen. People didn’t have to keep quiet about those issues any more, and we were recognized as part of the community.
Which is not to say it’s not still an ongoing process. The new Nerd Wars challenges went up yesterday, and the Giving Geeks one is…problematic. But right away, my 221b teammates started talking about the fact that it was problematic, why it was problematic and how to work to make it better. Maybe these discussions are being had in other groups as well. But I am so proud and honored to be in a group that thinks like this. It’s not always comfortable, but it’s always safe.
And of course, yesterday was the Hobby Lobby Supreme Court decision. Reading about it filled me with rage and frustration, and I needed to vent about it. So I went where I do for those things, intending to dump my brain in a vomit of bile and tears. Only to find that my family was already there. I wasn’t alone. They were already there, in the politics discussion thread, the safe zone, sharing their own outrage. Someone, we don’t know who, was going through and clicking the disagree button on a lot of the posts. This coward was called out by the group, not for disagreeing, but for not having the guts to talk about their opinions and feelings on the matter and instead hiding behind the disagree button. I suspect that person, whoever they are, may not be long for the group. 221b respects the diversity of opinion and belief in the world, but they don’t tolerate cowardice and stupidity.
They are my people. And I know, somewhere out in the multiverse, Sherlock Holmes is proud of them.