feminist blogs

I am not important, at least not in the way people use that word. I hope I'm important to some people, and that my work is useful to several more people. But as Important People go, I'm not one of them. So don't take what I'm about to say as one of those self-important rants meant to offer instructions on how to increase your chances of accessing my fabulousness. I make that disclaimer because there are many such rants floating around the halls of the average, and they tend to make me snicker. No, this is just one of those "you know what's annoying...?" things that I'm sharing because it's far easier than reading some news and writing more meaningful thoughts.

People sometimes call me, on the phone, get my voice mail and decide to leave a message. I suppose the point of that is to share information that may inspire me to call them back. Something like "Hi Mar. This is Wendy next door. I found your pet elephant in my yard. She got out again. You really need to get a handle on this situation. My anthuriums are a mess now. Call me back." Or "I'm calling for Mar [Lastnamehere] from The Money Place. We have craploads of money for you. Just stupid piles of money with your name on them. Please call us back at 43GETMONEY."

Here is what will not inspire me to call you back: "Where are you? Why aren't you picking up? I've been calling forever [read, usually: all of 3 hours] and nothing. Is something wrong with your phone? I hate when this happens. [Angry noise.]" Right. First: I don't know who you are, which is part of the point of leaving a message. Second - the other key purpose of the voice message - I don't know what you want. And third: you've just succeeded in simultaneously freaking me out (is this stranger bleeding in a ravine somewhere and my phone is the only one he can connect to?) and pissing me off. All I've gathered from this message is that you've called before and that, ruling out the bleeding thing, you're pretty rude and demanding. Sometimes, of course, I recognize the voice, in which case you can skip straight to the freaking out about bleeding and the rude and demanding parts.

This kind of entitled telephone posturing isn't reserved for voice mails. Sometimes I do pick up, but apparently not soon enough, and hear this: "Hi. Your phone rang very long. You took forever to answer!" Why yes, I guess I did. And so now what? Am I meant to apologize for not having leapt to the phone? For having had to fish it from the bottom of my bag? For not keeping it tucked behind my ear while I shower? In any event, your call was successful. You now have me on the phone. Were you calling for some reason or just to judge me for my slow telephone response time?

Such questions might be part of regular conversation preamble, I concede. I'm not talking about those times. I'm not talking about the "Ooh your phone rang long. Were you asleep?" Or the "Where are you?! I'm teaching my dog how to roast a breadfruit! You should be here! It is the Best. Thing. Ever." openings. Those are an expected part of conversation. I'm talking about the people who scold you for daring to keep them on the phone 2 seconds longer than they deem you worthy of. Or the people who think they should be able to reach you immediately and always, because to not do so is clearly an insult to them and, in general, a very big problem indeed.

I live a reasonably simple life, in which I answer the phone when I am able and/or amenable, and don't answer it when I am not. When I don't answer, in most cases, I'm not nearby, or worse, I'm in the middle of an event, have forgotten to turn it off, and am trying with the sheer power of my brainwaves to deflect the sound so that the ringing seems to be coming from the opposite corner of the room and not from my purse. I tried that last night. It still doesn't work. In any event, I wasn't able to answer. There's no need to quiz me about it later. And what if it were the other thing? What if I was screening? Are you sure you want to trundle head first into this conversation when we run into each other later:

"I called you. Got your voice mail. Why didn't you pick up?"
"Well..the truth is, I hate you. Please refrain from calling ever again."?

There's one exception to this rule: my mother. (My father barges into conversation without so much as a hello and has stopped talking within 2 minutes flat, so this does not apply.) My mother can ask me any random silliness, and in fact does. It's part of the code when you're an adult daughter who doesn't speak to her mother nearly as often as she would like, and probably as you should. My mum has been known to start conversations with "I called the house today and no one answered. It rang 40 times. But I came by anyway because I thought someone might be home by the time I got here [5 minutes later]." And what can I say to that, besides "Oh man I'm really sorry about that. I told you I wouldn't be home remember...told you that this morning? But yeah...ugh...sorry."? So my mother can engage in the nonsense above. But if this describes any of you, and you're not my mother, please stop it at once.

Last year, on International Women's Day, I wrote in support of the work of activists addressing Haiti's high incidence of rape. Today, the survival and well-being of women in Haiti remains high on the agenda of activists in the region and allies all over the world, especially in the aftermath of the earthquake. The women I've spoken to there are more focused than ever on rebuilding their country and their lives, and on continuing to work on securing safe, dignified, productive lives and livelihoods for all people. They inspire me not only to join them where they are, but to intensify my own work in Barbados and the Caribbean.

I see a lot of young women in my neighbourhood, on the streets every day, out and about everywhere, engaged in the business of growing up and figuring life out. And every day I'm reminded of how much there is to navigate, as a girl, and how overwhelming it can become if no one is creating the space needed to get through it all. That involves listening and encouraging their creative efforts and all these great things. But it also involves more tangible support, that has to do with their health care, their sexual and reproductive rights, their education, their safety and economic security. I don't have children. And even though I may at some point, and though I love my friends' children, I need not look that far into the future for my motivation to make things better now. I'm looking all around me, out my window right this minute, at the girls and women who depend on all our support to make their lives better today.

Happy International Women's Day.

Work has been feeding on most of my daytime hours as I plow toward a deadline. I've started five posts which remain in draft, mocking me, so I haven't much to share apart from this small story:

Cause she shakin it for daddy

(yeah) she shakin it for me

She shakin it for daddy (yeah)

She Shakin it for me

She liftin up ha ass

And she drop it ta the beat

She shakin it so fast for the cash ching-a-ling

She ready

And she lookin for a bankroll

She move it round and round like a merry-go

She be like i be i be i be on that money shit

[...]

And then this other girl grabbed me and she whispered in my ear

She said this other girl aint doin shit its crackin over here

She put my hand on her booty and the jiggle made me woozy

Now we bout ta make a movie

In the club goin' stupid

I'm finishing some work and some blog entries to be posted later, but in the meantime, watch this Daily Show clip. Keith Olbermann is usually right, if melodramatic and more and more, giggle-inducing. After Olbermann's remarks that the new Mass. Senator-elect Scott Brown is “an irresponsible, homophobic, racist, reactionary, ex-nude model, tea-bagging supporter of violence against women”, Jon Stewart has had enough:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Special Comment - Keith Olbermann's Name-Calling
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Health Care Crisis

                                                

As a follow-up to this post, the International Committee of the Red Cross has compiled a list for people seeking news in Haiti. Go here to register a search for your loved ones if they are not already on the list.

This will be the final and official update post on new contact opportunities, relief efforts and any other news related to the disaster in Haiti. You can also use this post to leave comments along with your own news and resources. And keep checking our Twitter updates as well.

More news on Haiti:

"The Obama administration announced Friday that it would grant tens of thousands Haitian nationals Temporary Protected Status, or TPS, an immigration benefit sought for years by Haitian activists, immigrant advocates and South Florida lawmakers." This is a very significant move, considering that last February, the administration was set to deport 30 000 Haitians to their storm-ravaged country.

Not just Port-au-Prince: the southern port city of Jacmel is also in need of help.

Update Jan 18th:

Ciné Institute Director David Belle in #Haiti reports CNN et al stories of looting greatly exaggerated: http://tinyurl.com/yg3rmho

Update Jan 19th
Paddy Allen at The Guardian has put together this map of where aid has been deployed in Haiti.

Update Jan 20th
Another aftershock, the largest, measuring 6.1, was felt in Haiti this morning. The epicentre of this morning's quake was Petit Goave, about 26 miles north-west of Jacmel.

Update Jan 21st:
More friends and colleagues lost in Haiti

Today, January 21st, is Errol Barrow Day in Barbados, and a national holiday. With our independence in 1966, Errol Barrow became the country's first Prime Minister, and was in fact one of the greatest champions of the independence process and of the integration of the Caribbean region.

I remember that immediately after his death in 1987, our primary school school class was asked to write an essay about him, and our teacher then asked if I'd like mine to be submitted to the newspaper. Of course I said yes, and it was published. My mother cut the article out and took me into town with her to the framing place so I could decide how I wanted it framed. I chose an off-white frame with gold detail, and a week later, it was ready to be hung in the dining room. The text was on the left, Errol Barrow's picture on the right, and the article stayed in that place for years and years, only taken down when friends came to the house and my mother forced them to witness the proof that her daughter had been 'published'.

I tell that story because through that experience, Errol Barrow became probably the only national hero with whom I felt I had a relationship, even though I had never met him. I looked at his yellowed picture in that article for years, and saw him as a kind of uncle/grandfather who had done some pretty awesome things. I think that kind of intimacy with the Errol Barrows of our region should be encouraged in the way we teach young people about their lives and work, so that they're not just some woman or man in a textbook (come to think of it, Barrow wasn't in any of mine. We learnt about him in primary school from newspapers and our teachers' stories. And in secondary school, forget about it. The Renaissance was apparently more important); they're people who had thoughts and visions like the rest of us, and made them happen.

A year before Barrow's death, calypsonian Johnny Ma Boy (John King) became the 1986 Pic-O-De-Crop calypso monarch with the song Tribute to de Skipper, in honour of Errol Barrow. It is one of my favourite songs of all time. I was hoping to find a video online, but couldn't, and I would post the lyrics in my head, but I don't want to risk getting any of them wrong. (If anyone has either, please post in comments.) So instead, here's another song honouring Bajan culture: Gabby singing "Bajan Fishermen". It has nothing to do with Errol Barrow, but I like it.

Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and I wanted to post some excerpts from my favourite sermon of his, The Drum Major Instinct, delivered on February 4th 1968. I'm not religious, but the speech isn't just about humility among Christians; it's about the dangers of classism and racism, of institutionalized privilege, and holds an important message for us all. You can also listen at the link.

"This morning I would like to use as a subject from which to preach: "The Drum Major Instinct." "The Drum Major Instinct." And our text for the morning is taken from a very familiar passage in the tenth chapter as recorded by Saint Mark. Beginning with the thirty-fifth verse of that chapter

[...] Jesus goes on toward the end of that passage to say, "But so shall it not be among you: but whosoever will be great among you, shall be your servant: and whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be servant of all."

The setting is clear. James and John are making a specific request of the master. They had dreamed, as most of the Hebrews dreamed, of a coming king of Israel who would set Jerusalem free and establish his kingdom on Mount Zion, and in righteousness rule the world. And they thought of Jesus as this kind of king. And they were thinking of that day when Jesus would reign supreme as this new king of Israel. And they were saying, "Now when you establish your kingdom, let one of us sit on the right hand and the other on the left hand of your throne."

Now very quickly, we would automatically condemn James and John, and we would say they were selfish. Why would they make such a selfish request? But before we condemn them too quickly, let us look calmly and honestly at ourselves, and we will discover that we too have those same basic desires for recognition, for importance. That same desire for attention, that same desire to be first.

[...] And there is deep down within all of us an instinct. It's a kind of drum major instinct—a desire to be out front, a desire to lead the parade, a desire to be first. And it is something that runs the whole gamut of life.

[...][L]et us see that we all have the drum major instinct. We all want to be important, to surpass others, to achieve distinction, to lead the parade.

[...] And you know, we begin early to ask life to put us first. Our first cry as a baby was a bid for attention. And all through childhood the drum major impulse or instinct is a major obsession.

[...] Now in adult life, we still have it, and we really never get by it. We like to do something good. And you know, we like to be praised for it. Now if you don't believe that, you just go on living life, and you will discover very soon that you like to be praised. Everybody likes it, as a matter of fact. And somehow this warm glow we feel when we are praised or when our name is in print is something of the vitamin A to our ego. Nobody is unhappy when they are praised, even if they know they don't deserve it and even if they don't believe it. The only unhappy people about praise is when that praise is going too much toward somebody else. (That’s right) But everybody likes to be praised because of this real drum major instinct.

Now the presence of the drum major instinct is why so many people are "joiners." You know, there are some people who just join everything. And it's really a quest for attention and recognition and importance. And they get names that give them that impression. So you get your groups, and they become the "Grand Patron," and the little fellow who is henpecked at home needs a chance to be the "Most Worthy of the Most Worthy" of something. It is the drum major impulse and longing that runs the gamut of human life. And so we see it everywhere, this quest for recognition. And we join things, overjoin really, that we think that we will find that recognition in.

Now the presence of this instinct explains why we are so often taken by advertisers. You know, those gentlemen of massive verbal persuasion. And they have a way of saying things to you that kind of gets you into buying. In order to be a man of distinction, you must drink this whiskey. In order to make your neighbors envious, you must drive this type of car. (Make it plain) In order to be lovely to love you must wear this kind of lipstick or this kind of perfume. And you know, before you know it, you're just buying that stuff. (Yes) That's the way the advertisers do it.

I got a letter the other day, and it was a new magazine coming out. And it opened up, "Dear Dr. King: As you know, you are on many mailing lists. And you are categorized as highly intelligent, progressive, a lover of the arts and the sciences, and I know you will want to read what I have to say." Of course I did. After you said all of that and explained me so exactly, of course I wanted to read it. [laughter]

[...] There comes a time that the drum major instinct can become destructive. (Make it plain) And that's where I want to move now. I want to move to the point of saying that if this instinct is not harnessed, it becomes a very dangerous, pernicious instinct.

[...] It causes you to lie about who you know sometimes. (Amen, Make it plain) There are some people who are influence peddlers. And in their attempt to deal with the drum major instinct, they have to try to identify with the so-called big-name people. (Yeah, Make it plain) And if you're not careful, they will make you think they know somebody that they don't really know. (Amen) They know them well, they sip tea with them, and they this-and-that. That happens to people.

[...] Now the other problem is, when you don't harness the drum major instinct—this uncontrolled aspect of it—is that it leads to snobbish exclusivism. It leads to snobbish exclusivism. (Make it plain) And you know, this is the danger of social clubs and fraternities—I'm in a fraternity; I'm in two or three—for sororities and all of these, I'm not talking against them. I'm saying it's the danger. The danger is that they can become forces of classism and exclusivism where somehow you get a degree of satisfaction because you are in something exclusive. And that's fulfilling something, you know—that I'm in this fraternity, and it's the best fraternity in the world, and everybody can't get in this fraternity. So it ends up, you know, a very exclusive kind of thing.

[...] The drum major instinct can lead to exclusivism in one's thinking and can lead one to feel that because he has some training, he's a little better than that person who doesn't have it. Or because he has some economic security, that he's a little better than that person who doesn't have it. And that's the uncontrolled, perverted use of the drum major instinct.

Now the other thing is, that it leads to tragic—and we've seen it happen so often—tragic race prejudice. Many who have written about this problem—Lillian Smith used to say it beautifully in some of her books. And she would say it to the point of getting men and women to see the source of the problem. Do you know that a lot of the race problem grows out of the drum major instinct? A need that some people have to feel superior. A need that some people have to feel that they are first, and to feel that their white skin ordained them to be first. (Make it plain, today, ‘cause I’m against it, so help me God) And they have said over and over again in ways that we see with our own eyes. In fact, not too long ago, a man down in Mississippi said that God was a charter member of the White Citizens Council. And so God being the charter member means that everybody who's in that has a kind of divinity, a kind of superiority. And think of what has happened in history as a result of this perverted use of the drum major instinct. It has led to the most tragic prejudice, the most tragic expressions of man's inhumanity to man.

The other day I was saying, I always try to do a little converting when I'm in jail. And when we were in jail in Birmingham the other day, the white wardens and all enjoyed coming around the cell to talk about the race problem. And they were showing us where we were so wrong demonstrating. And they were showing us where segregation was so right. And they were showing us where intermarriage was so wrong. So I would get to preaching, and we would get to talking—calmly, because they wanted to talk about it. And then we got down one day to the point—that was the second or third day—to talk about where they lived, and how much they were earning. And when those brothers told me what they were earning, I said, "Now, you know what? You ought to be marching with us. [laughter] You're just as poor as Negroes." And I said, "You are put in the position of supporting your oppressor, because through prejudice and blindness, you fail to see that the same forces that oppress Negroes in American society oppress poor white people. (Yes) And all you are living on is the satisfaction of your skin being white, and the drum major instinct of thinking that you are somebody big because you are white. And you're so poor you can't send your children to school. You ought to be out here marching with every one of us every time we have a march."

Now that's a fact. That the poor white has been put into this position, where through blindness and prejudice, (Make it plain) he is forced to support his oppressors. And the only thing he has going for him is the false feeling that he’s superior because his skin is white—and can't hardly eat and make his ends meet week in and week out. (Amen)

And not only does this thing go into the racial struggle, it goes into the struggle between nations. And I would submit to you this morning that what is wrong in the world today is that the nations of the world are engaged in a bitter, colossal contest for supremacy.

[...] But this is why we are drifting. And we are drifting there because nations are caught up with the drum major instinct. "I must be first." "I must be supreme." "Our nation must rule the world." (Preach it) And I am sad to say that the nation in which we live is the supreme culprit. And I'm going to continue to say it to America, because I love this country too much to see the drift that it has taken.

[...] If you want to be important—wonderful. If you want to be recognized—wonderful. If you want to be great—wonderful. But recognize that he who is greatest among you shall be your servant. (Amen) That's a new definition of greatness.

And this morning, the thing that I like about it: by giving that definition of greatness, it means that everybody can be great, (Everybody) because everybody can serve. (Amen) You don't have to have a college degree to serve. (All right) You don't have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don't have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. You don't have to know Einstein's theory of relativity to serve. You don't have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve. (Amen) You only need a heart full of grace, (Yes, sir, Amen) a soul generated by love. (Yes) And you can be that servant.

[...] Every now and then I guess we all think realistically (Yes, sir) about that day when we will be victimized with what is life's final common denominator—that something that we call death. We all think about it. And every now and then I think about my own death and I think about my own funeral. And I don't think of it in a morbid sense. And every now and then I ask myself, "What is it that I would want said?" And I leave the word to you this morning.

If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don’t want a long funeral. And if you get somebody to deliver the eulogy, tell them not to talk too long. (Yes) And every now and then I wonder what I want them to say. Tell them not to mention that I have a Nobel Peace Prize—that isn’t important. Tell them not to mention that I have three or four hundred other awards—that’s not important. Tell them not to mention where I went to school. (Yes)

I'd like somebody to mention that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to give his life serving others. (Yes)

I'd like for somebody to say that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to love somebody.

I want you to say that day that I tried to be right on the war question. (Amen)

I want you to be able to say that day that I did try to feed the hungry. (Yes)

And I want you to be able to say that day that I did try in my life to clothe those who were naked. (Yes)

I want you to say on that day that I did try in my life to visit those who were in prison. (Lord)

I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity. (Yes)

Yes, if you want to say that I was a drum major, say that I was a drum major for justice. (Amen) Say that I was a drum major for peace. (Yes) I was a drum major for righteousness. And all of the other shallow things will not matter. (Yes) I won't have any money to leave behind. I won't have the fine and luxurious things of life to leave behind. But I just want to leave a committed life behind. (Amen)

And that's all I want to say.