see you next year

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The most common remark I get when someone wants to describe me is “calm.” I’m constantly told how chill I am in any given situation. 

So, it’s really weird that I’ve felt on the verge of a panic attack for the past week.

Like many of you, I’ve been gutted by the election results and struggling to make sense of it. It has been helpful to read articles and posts by others grappling with these questions. At the same time, the news fans the flames of panic with reports of Klan parties, white supremacists in the cabinet, Russia/FBI election tampering, and the steep increase in hate crimes, harassment, and sexual assault across the country. People trying to act as if it’s all normal and fine if we just believe enough. Media calling spades anything but, because the alternative is too horrifying. The emperor has no clothes. 
 
Human capacity is equal to human cruelty, and it is up to each of us to tip the balance. —Alice Walker
 
The US has come far in many ways. It pains me to see how easily we’re willing to drop all of that. Activists work themselves to burn out for social justice, funders organize and spend billions to save the planet from our abuses, all for teeny incremental improvements. It’s crazy that we have to work SO hard for SO long and spend SO much, just to do the right thing. AND THEN, once a battle is won, we can’t even rest. It’s just so relentless and exhausting, tipping the balance. Dragging humanity forward just to be dragged back the moment our guard slips. No rest for the weary.
I *do* see the good slowly coming of this—speaking out about assaults, abortions, and experiences means more people will understand that these aren’t abstractions. People realizing we can’t rest on the progress we’ve made if we want to keep it. Remember the conservative legislator who suddenly supported gay rights when his son came out, and we were hopeful that he’d meet a woman someday? For whatever reason, it is really hard for some people to imagine and empathize with life and experiences beyond their tiny circles and speaking out and speaking up is one way to expand those circles. 
 
In Germany, they came first for the Communists, And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist;
And then they came for the trade unionists, And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist;
And then they came for the Jews, And I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew;
And then . . . they came for me . . . And by that time there was no one left to speak up.
—Martin Niemöller
 
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. —Edmund Burke.
 
Your silence will not protect you —Audre Lorde 
 
Speaking up is scary. The alternative is worse. We need to keep letting people know when their words and actions are NOT OK. I will do this.
 
I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart. —Anne Frank
 
If she can say that while tiptoeing around an attic to avoid concentration camps, that’s something. Ultimately, I agree. We’re implored to understand those in smaller towns and rural areas who are panicking since their way of life is dying. I get it. I get that people feel abandoned and forgotten and wanted to send a big FU to DC. The part that’s hard for me to get is the willingness to throw out all standards of decency, humanity, and American values in the process. And our short memories! 8 years or a generation. I get that humans aren’t rational, but I’m not sure how to operate in a world where facts don’t matter, we can say/do/believe anything just because we feel like it. (Also, is anyone curious as to why we city folk love diversity and the promising aspects of modern changes and education and science and a social safety net and so on and so forth? These values matter, too.
 
When you’re going through hell, keep going. —Winston Churchill
 
So whatever. Here we are. For now, I’m going to reduce my time online significantly to protect my mental health and focus on other things for now like health, family, work, home, Luke Cage, decluttering, and certifications to complete. I’m here for you. I’ll wear the safety pin because I mean it and I will walk you to work or sit with you at lunch or whatever if that helps you feel safer. We’re discussing how to use our privilege to help those who are really going to suffer in the coming days/months/years. It’s the long term relationship-building and organizing that really help and I don’t have that in me right now, so it’ll have to come in different ways. 
 
Good luck and see you in the streets.
 
Things we can do and I’ll be doing:

 

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what’s in a name?

rose reading room nypl michaelms flikr creative commons

 

People ask me all the time where the name “postmodern childbirth” comes from. I’ve probably been asked 3 times in 5 years, and I think 2 of those came from the same person. I thought it was time to finally answer this burning question.

I was in academia for a long time. Too long. (Hmm, that might be a theme with me– overstaying my welcome. But I digress.) One day while working in the beautiful Rose Reading Room of the main branch of the New York Public Library, I was daydreaming about being done with my studies and able to pursue doula work. I was reading yet another postmodern theorist and trying to figure out what the hell it had to do with my research. And while there are some postmodern writers who I truly enjoy (what up, Zygmunt Bauman), and I generally like the concept, there are many who are just spewing pretentious nonsense. It’s a real life version of The Emperor’s New Clothes.

I had started doing some doula work and wanted a name for the business. I didn’t want something place-based; it wasn’t interesting to me. I didn’t want to go the whole beautiful birthing belly radiant lotus yoni mother earth; it’s been done. Really done. I was trying to think of something unique and meaningful to me. It was one day, painfully slogging through yet another tome of dry academic blather, that “postmodern childbirth” came to mind. It was a nod to the world I was eager to escape, and also an acknowledgement that contemporary US women are, in fact, figuring out how to birth and parent in a postmodern world. I liked it.

Now both of you who have been dying to know the answer to this compelling mystery can finally sleep easy tonight. You’re welcome.

As for the elephants– I have always had a deep love for elephants. They are incredible creatures. I knew all along that I would incorporate them somehow. My talented friend Nicole Truelock designed my logo and color scheme.

photo courtesy of Michael M.S. via flikr creative commons