Keep Your Links to Yourself

I honestly believed that deleting my tumblr would end my compulsion for mindlessly sharing items across the net and perpetuation of digitalized self, and of course that did not happen. Tumblr is one of many web platforms that I used to use, and instead, it seemed that I funneled my "reblogging" habits into "likes and sharing" on Facebook. I used to have a habit of deleting my Facebook content (statuses, links, notes, etc) after the timeline feature came through (because of my paranoia concerning the imaginary looming boss demanding to illegally go through all your facebook posts); after a few months of neglecting to do an office sweep, when I finally attempted to do so, I was disappointed by how much I posted: too much and too often and several times a day, like tumblr.

Although I'm sharing these links and stories and pictures and funny things with my Facebook friends, what is the point, honestly, when you talk to each other off the net? When they already agree with your point of view? To portray how scholarly and well-read you are? Or maybe its an indication of how bored I am at work.

With each new update, privacy settings with any web platform, but especially Facebook, are more difficult to sort through and provide a false sense of security - because they own your content, they get to share it with whomever they wish to, permitting annoyance everywhere you surf - it has been frustrating to realize that you must log out from google everytime you blog, because otherwise, google has you logged into to gmail, youtube, and other services indefinitely. Like Facebook, google tracks your content in order to provide you personalized ads so you can buy more stuff. Interestingly enough, because of the usage of keywords in a specific order, it's hit and miss (example: I am critical of the Obama Administration, but I'm a lefty. Result - Facebook advertising  racist right-wing conspiracy websites about Obama's origins).

I think I just want to move into purposeful internet usage (along with becoming frightened after my professor pointed out to my history class that we were zombies with our digital devices/there are bad habits that come with that; aka how many of us automatically check Facebook on our phones once we wake up?). Do we really need to share everything? To be internet friends with everyone? To hit the like button on everything? Does Facebook need to intersect with my personal and private life? Why don't I have a central spot if I just want to share stuff and why did I stop using this tag????

I'm revisiting a few helpful tips from Julia. 

• just because you like someone as a person doesn’t mean you have to follow them online - this also applies to loving what someone writes on their blog, but hating their twitter, etc. zero obligation here, remember that
• unfollow tumblrs that post things without credit, constantly (even if they post really cool shit)
• think about engaging more directly with fewer people online than feeling the need to engage with tons of people vaguely - that’s how you roll in real life (making a small amount of people my priority when it comes to love/friendship vs. wasting time with on the surface social butterfly acquaintance bullshit)
• spend more time sending messages and emails to people you respect and admire than talking to/about the people who piss you off
• when getting wrapped up in an online comment debate, step back. it doesn’t matter who gets “the last word.” if someone refuses to see your point, wasting another 10-15 minutes trying to reiterate your point won’t do any good. if you feel you’ve expressed yourself clearly, move on. (why yes, this is directly about this)

Am I sick from Internet 2.0? Yep.

Eye on the Prize: Summer 2013

Source: Andy Warhol's Ryuichi Sakamato

Don't get me wrong, I love school more than the average person, but I mentally checked out several weeks ago. Although I'm finishing the semester in great shape (although I wish I worked a bit harder at not being sick/getting more attendence points so I could receive an A- in Portuguese,), it's a drag to study for a semester with which you mildly got frustrated: you have to pay your dues in order to get access to the upper-level classes, but I feel I did that long ago. I'm ready for new projects and new ways of doing schoolwork. So to keep me motivated, I keep my eyes on the prize.

Although I'll be doing some paid research during the summer and studying for the GRE (and am very much looking forward to the change and spirit of independent work), I have other things on my buckletlist that I want to achieve.

♡ New sets of clothes: I've kind of been distraught that some of my clothes, due to association with a past time, my weight gain, or my acknowledgement of what works for my body, don't really work for me anymore. I really dislike jeans because they're never made for girls like me (big ass, tiny waist), so I'm going to check out waist-length cigarette pants (and they'll encourage me to find some dapper shoes to add, too). My other goal is to look out for pretty dresses and skirts. And non-metal bras and eyeliner.

♡ My apartment: I get my apartment to myself for the summer since both of my roommates will be out by June 1st. This allows me to reconfigure areas and make everything spotless (I am a clean freak due a nine-month horrible roach infestation and my condo association refusing to tell me it was wide-spread + roommates always have a different idea of what clean is). Maybe I can get some nice frames or invest in some Warhol Jackie Kennedy and Liz Taylor prints.

♡ My boyfriend: Self-explanatory ♡♡♡ We might even be planning a roadtrip to Chicago for August.

♡ Portuguese: Hardcore studying this summer. I need to get it up to a level where I can have enough vocab to speak without going into English again. I'd like to be more ready than my other classmates for the fall and when I get to Brazil next January.

♡ PHASE OUT AND PURGE PROCESSED FOODS: Save money, earn health.

♡ Save money: Work more to save more since I won't have additional income due to roommates ;__;

♡ Listen to YMO: ♡♡♡

♡ Ignore my phone when I wake up and go to bed: I don't need to be aware of everyone's lives when I start my day. 

♡ Zine-making: After finals week, I'm going to collaborate with Kailey and we're going to make a zine together. I'm not sure what it'll look like exactly, or what I will write about, but it will probably be a mix-match of lighthearted and not so lighthearted things on my end.

What's on your buckletlist?

Letter to Chimdi, or Love Letter to all the (Lost) Girls of Color, or Exclusionary Rage

okay, I really don't have the time to make this expansive, but this really saved my life. I had a long convo with Rookie in the comments of this article (I'm Chimdi) and felt disgusted but held back my angry feelings at how intersectionality just seemed like another duty to them, like fixing html. Also, I'm really angry that I was so freaking nice and unoffensive to them in the efforts of being heard and not treated as just another *hater* and it wasn't even worth it...ugh. Then, I read this article over and I instantly recognized everything, even the quote from the John Lennon poster in the picture.

CAN YOU PLEASE RESPOND TO ME?! 

I'm sorry I'm so desperate! I'm sure you will respond but I feel like I'm about to explode. I have only known one feminist my ENTIRE life, and she moved schools. Plus, her uncle was that one judge who made a racist comment(don't remember specifics sorry) and she defended him, saying it was only a joke. I am so exhausted with white feminism and I have all these cry sobby sentimental feelings for white feminism because Tavi Gevinson introduced me to feminism and that feminism became such a large part of my identity and AGHH! I really need to talk about white feminism and how feminism has origins rooted in classism and This was originally supposed to be just an appreciation letter but please just respond to this. I'm dying. I know I could save this for later when I have more time but I really just need to talk to someone ughhhh

During my Untitled Mag days, the staff received this e-mail. Unfortunately, I don't remember if we actually responded to it or not - I may have using my staff e-mail, but I can't look into it since the domain is now unregistered (meaning the link she posted above is broken because the site doesn't exist anymore) - but I do remember it, and I am remembering it again. I had a conversation with a friend/colleague of mine where we mentioned that although we didn't necessarily have to, but in upholding self-preservation in the face of racism, we would be two less black women who were not resisting against being eaten up by self-defeatism and the alter of whiteness. Obviously, in a world where it is suggested that your (supposed) peers, both white and non-black people of color, love the output of your black American culture, but despise your black body, love to talk about your artistic output and fashion style in Harlem in the twenties, but could not be bothered to address that you died in destitution and lived in an era of Klan violence and intimidation, or they only want you at the table if you shut up and are close in color to them, it is incredibly easy to lose hope and boil up in exclusionary rage.

Chimdi, you and girls like you have every reason to feel rage and be angry: your rage is righteous and good. But you have to do something about it, or else it will eat you up. The horrible truth is, you have to do it yourself. The likelihood that Tavi, an upper-middle class white girl from the most segregated city in the United States, is going to move out of her bubble of liberalism to consider the feelings and concerns of girls of color, on the terms of girls of color, is very unlikely. Also remember that if media is not palatable to the biases and wants of whites, they recoil and stop consuming it because it is "too ethnic on the terms of people of color, not whites." Your rejection of your past heroes/heroines might also force you to realize that despite the claims of others, you cannot use capitalism to buy your way into liberation, which might be terrifying because teen culture is fueled by the ability to buy your happiness or your angst. Or that the people who you thought were your buds probably don't care about you that much if they associate themselves with unapologetic racists. Or that some girls of color will throw you under the bus for a (temporary) seat on the race hierarchy pedestal. It may even be triggering to see white girls receive praise for something you had put 3x the effort into, but all you heard were crickets. I'm sorry this happens to you and other girls of color. I'm sorry it happens to us.

But don't lose hope! Those who lose hope suffer in despair and perish. The world needs bright, inspiring, vulnerable, happy, angry, upset, lovely girls of color like you (I mean, even the name "girls of color" sounds bright and cheery and fun, like you)! As always, you need a plan in order to keep being the strong, radical, brave girl of color you are and sustain yourself. Here is a plan that you can mix and match to suit your interests:

1. Have hope. Have hope that things can get better for you and your world. That there are just as many great, inspiring, kind people as there are gross and horrible people.
2. Connect with other people that have hope. As you know, there are tons of people like you on the net. Write to them, talk to them, feed off of one another (in a healthy way) and bind yourselves against the struggle via the bond of friendship and camaraderie. You also be able to sniff out bullshit much more feasibly.
3. Organize and contribute to the revolution. Your friends and cohorts and colleagues can gather together to fill the void that is inside all of you. Create something new. Write your own blogs, make your own zines, become your own heroines/celebrities/idols (don't become cultleaders!), make your own podcasts, facebook pages, events, read about the people who came before you, be in solidarity with people beyond borders, and always always always always continue to love.

And I'm not saying its easy, and sometimes it's hard to figure out how to sustain what you make (TUM is testament to that). However, that doesn't mean you quit, and that you lost. Start over again, and realize that other girls of color are starting over again, becoming better, wiser, stronger, and connecting with more people with their new projects and goals. Besides, bell hooks wasn't born bell hooks. She was born Gloria Jean Watkins and bell hooks took a while to develop, and is still developing, and improving, and growing. You are too.

Be kind to yourself, Chimdi.

Love, Cassie.

Radical Tenderness, Part One

BILL MOYERS: What would you like us to be talking about?
JAMES CONE: I'd like for us, first, to talk to each other. And I'd like to talk about what it would mean to be one community, one people. Really one people.
BILL MOYERS: What would it mean?
JAMES CONE: It would mean that we would talk about the lynching tree. We would talk about slavery. We would talk about the good and the bad all mixed up there. We would begin to see ourselves as a family. Martin King called it the beloved community. That's what he was struggling for.
BILL MOYERS: What can people do to try to help bring about this beloved community that you talk about?
JAMES CONE: First is to believe that it can happen. Don't lose hope. If you-- if you-- if people lose hope, they give up in despair. Black people were enslaved for 246 years. But, they didn't lose hope.
BILL MOYERS: Why didn't they?
JAMES CONE: They didn't lose hope because there was a power and a reality in their experience that helped them to know that they were a part of this human race just like everybody else.
BILL MOYERS: All right--
JAMES CONE: And they fought for that.
BILL MOYERS: All right, so I'm-- I have hope. What's next?
JAMES CONE: The next step is to connect with people who also have hope: blacks, whites, Hispanic, Asians, all different kinds of people. You have to connect and be around and organize with people who have hope.
BILL MOYERS: Organize?
JAMES CONE: Yes.
BILL MOYERS: What do you mean organize?
JAMES CONE: You organize to make the world the way it ought to be.
BILL MOYERS: And that--
JAMES CONE: And that is the beloved community. You have to have some witness to that. Even if it's a small witness of just you and me.
BILL MOYERS: You don't have to be angels to do that?
JAMES CONE: No, you don't have to be--
BILL MOYERS: Remember, if men were angels, we wouldn't need government.
JAMES CONE: That's-- that's--
BILL MOYERS: As the founding fathers--
JAMES CONE: --right.
BILL MOYERS: --said. We're not angels.
JAMES CONE: No, we're not angels-- no, we're not angels. But, in-- where there are two or three gathered, there is hope. There is possibility. And you don't want to lose that. That's why I keep teaching.

I came across the phrase through my friend Farah. I've done a google search, and I can only find that the phrase is connected to medicine or visual art. Although Farah was using it in context of being a bit opposed to the concept, I still feel drawn to it.

I'm figuring out what feels healing to me, re: responding to systems of oppression, and forming dialogues with people. Quite frankly, if I am to be a professor in the future, I really can't expect to respond with someone's gross remark by telling them "they're a smear of shit," even if that is what I initially believe -  it's not conducive to getting them to change their behavior, it doesn't allow me to heal my pain, and it would probably leave me without a job.

In the tumblr view of things, explaining oppression to oppressive people, or in other words, unfavorables who routinely fuck up, is seen as either giving in to oppressive systems, watering something down, becoming an apologist, etc. Because these people have access to all the resources in the world, why is it that they can't just go out and look for them, and deal with the information by themselves? The ultimate fear is that we end up performing the work for them, or becoming in their eyes the "Magical Wise Negress" (or replace whatever fits your identity here).

I used to fear showing pain and hurt, because in the eyes of others, it meant that they had "won" against my feelings, that their argument meant more than them showing me empathy, and that I had to stop getting mad or stop visibly being upset to show that I could stand inch by inch against them, to prove that I wasn't weak or less powerful. If I felt myself becoming angry or threatened by my insides into becoming emotionally upset and as a result crying, I could just hurl and insult, disengage, and leave. Or, prnt screen an Internet conversation and hurl it over the person's head as a receipt to negatively shame them. It doesn't make me feel good to be routinely snarky, routinely cynical, and routinely have wounds that never attempt to heal.

I'm going to speak my truth, and I will always continue to speak my truth, but I can't respond to another person's hatred or ignorance or misguidedness with frustrated insults or negative shaming. I want to have conversation with them, peeling off layer from layer so that we can really talk with one another, in order to heal and do better. That doesn't mean that in doing so you disregard your boundaries, it does not mean you give into to the very systems of oppression you suffer from, and it does not mean allowing yourself to become manipulated for another person's gain. But it does mean telling the truth, it does mean putting yourself out there, it does mean residtance to a system that wants you to uphold distrust and ugliness, and it does mean a willingness to deconstruct bothered enemy and yourself.

Additional Reading:
- James Cone: The Cross and the Lynching Tree
- Junot Diaz: Rewriting the Story of America

Items: Cosmic Heart Compact

I received a Cosmic Heart Compact from my boyfriend. It is possibly the best gift of the decade so far (beyond, you know, getting accepted into my dream grad school if that were to occur): it is incredibly beautiful, the handiwork is impressive, and it's 99% copy by copy from the anime (except the small jewel at the bottom is supposed to be orange instead of red). I will not upload a photo of it here because, quite frankly, it feels incredibly blasphemous to do so; plus the pictures won't do the beauty justice). If you are interested in locating one though, you can find it here (and thanks to Kailey at Mermaidens for bringing it to my attention)!

The Cosmic Heart Compact has strong resonance to me because it evokes several themes in the series, but in the Infinity/Super arcs specifically: femininity, innocence, and goodwill as strength, resilience in spite of being given a bad hand, and the power of love (received and given).

Sources: Serapii-Kissu

Usagi, Chibiusa, and co are met with resistance from Haruka, Michiru, and Setsuna over how to protect the planet from the end of days. In both mediums, the outers resolve to kill Saturn, the bringer of the end of days, in order to save the world. Usagi, when met with common sense that killing Hotaru, who is actually Saturn, in order to save the world is probably the best, disregards it as unacceptable, and wants to figure out another way to save both the world and Hotaru. Despite the world coming to ruin, Usagi gives it her all to fight it - in the anime, her resolve is so strong that she is able to become Super Sailor Moon and move into Pharaoh 90, defeat him, and save Saturn; in the manga, she sacrifices herself to defeat Pharaoh 90.

Source: Miss Dream

When you have unwavering faith in something that often lacks mass support, you often feel foolish and small sometimes, but with all the green flags, along with your gut instinct, you feel that you must walk that path no matter what. The compact symbolizes Usagi's instincts: that you must literally follow your heart, because in doing so the returns, no matter how painful the walk, are phenomenal and worth it. It is scary when everyone is telling you that you are wrong, or that it would be better to take the "easier" route, but denying your truth is the heaviest burden to carry. Carrying on in resilience, despite the bad environment, speaks heavily to my experiences in coming out of depression: feeling isolated in a dark place is a tempting way to murder hope: but like Usagi, I was still open to those who loved me, and the people and things I passionately loved back - and those people and things reignite the will to live and pursue beauty. Throughout the manga and anime, Sailor Moon remembers the promise of her friendship and love of her friends, family, partner, child, and the planet. In the anime, the Cosmic Heart Compact is borne out of the love Usagi and Mamoru have for each other and the planet that they wish to protect; and in the manga, the Compact's strength lies in the shared power of all the senshi.

Source: みなみのさんかく座

Even though the design is incredibly feminine, evokes feelings of regality and innocence - the compact is all powerful because of those things. In Sailor Moon, femininity is not evocative of powerlessness or pity, but of incredible strength and will. In a world filled with negativity, a place that points to greed, cynicism, manipulation, corruption and cruelty (also tied with masculinity) as ways to get ahead and become successful, the Sailor Moon universe challenges those things as what they are: surefire ways to become alone and unloved. This (in the anime) may be a reason for Uranus and Neptune's (and by extension, Pluto) failure in saving the world: because their method's were rooted in causing pain and death, when met against purity and love, purity and love succeeded, and brought back two outcomes: the rebirth of life on Earth (and avoidance of Earth's destruction) and the rebirth of a senshi, Saturn.

Another important theme in Sailor Moon is that femininity can be a source of power. Sailor Moon specifically fights evil in a very feminine way- with the light of her love and the strength of her emotion. And it is badass and major and epic. The weapons are always very feminine as well- crystals, heart shaped stuff, tiaras- but they are unquestionably powerful and never taken lightly. Sailor Moon melts the flesh off monsters with her strong emotional soul that would relegate her to the token weepy love interest girl standing on the sidelines in most male-driven stories. Her kind heart, compassion and emotional intuition isn’t a sign of her uselessness, but the key to saving the world. Her tears send out sonic waves. When she transforms into the short skirt and highheels, getting on makeup and nail polish and all that bling- it’s because she’s ready to take you down. She fights crime in a girls school uniform and she’s proud of it- in the anime, a villain once tries to embarrass her over her state of dress and she makes it clear it never occurred to her to even be embarrassed, and she refuses to be. She doesn’t need to reject or be ashamed of her femininity to be a hero. She also very literally uses the strength and community she has with other women to give her the power to win. 

Perhaps I am just young and the strength of my feelings about this great series will pass with age, but I won't forget the symbolism of what it meant to me. I watched and read the series in its entirety when I was 16, and five years later my devotion to it has only strengthened, not withered. To have a physical replica in my possession is to have a physical reminder of my true strength, my vision, hopes, dreams, and promise, and to have something to look at whenever I am down. It is a reminder that I will never lose.

Additional Reading:

Sailor Moon and Sex - written by tumblr user thighhighs.
"Sailor Moon: Japanese Superheroes for Global Girls" - by Anne Allison for Japan Pop: Inside the World of Japanese Popular Culture, edited by Timothy J. Craig.

Talking Tumblr Negativity Blues

Late last night, my friend Susie, frustrated by what she described as a "never-ending negative put-down culture," deactivated her account and left tumblr for livejournal. My other friend Rebecca hasn't necessarily left tumblr, but she has created/revitalized a livejournal account for privacy reasons. There have been times that I myself wanted to leave tumblr, but rather than leave, I would just delete and create new accounts.

Routinely, I find tumblr posts where, as something is implied as problematic from the OP, subsequent reblogs come out and tell them - however, sometimes rather than being an actually reply of "this is problematic and here is why," it is often filled with ridicule, hostility, both, or perhaps some kind of threat beyond bounds. Example: "go deepthroat a chainsaw" in retaliation to this. I went out of my way to explain in other ways, but obviously the damage had been done, and the OP didn't really want to engage with others on the site if they were essentially going to tell her to kill herself.

This way of communicating (hurling insults rather than engaging) is awkward for me to explain because although I feel it is essentially mean-spirited, that it comes from an understandable place in this sense: if, in the past, whenever you've voiced your concerns in legitimate patient ways and all you ever got was dismissal or ridicule, why would you even bother being polite anymore? And if you feel marginalized already, perhaps being rude is a way to have some semblance of control over yourself, or over other people.

This culture of speaking at people, however, has solely been linked to the loosely-defined group "social justice bloggers." It is a weird definition because it assumes anyone who actively posts content relating to social issues concerning race, queer issues, feminism is a social justice blogger. So when other bloggers/tumblr users are confronted on very real problematic comments or posts that they've made, it is easy for them to dismiss those concerns as "social justice trolling." It is another way to deflect criticism, a utility in a toolbox that often employs the tools of "you're taking this too seriously" or "actually, because you're bringing this up, you are the real [insert societal ill]ist!"

The other issue with tumblr is that because content is often posted without context (no source-links, commentary, etc), many things have little meaning. So you can have blogs that purport feminist rhetoric or black pride, but do not go beyond pretty pictures or stand-alone inspirational quotes. There is no analysis, no humanity, and sometimes promotes a cult of personality around the poster. Tumblr is a fastfood joint, a way to use a magazine as a substitute for an exercise/textbook, and the prioritization of pixels and uber-individualism over reality, substance, and what is actually at stake in the world. "This is my blog" is codeword for "my desires override any empathy I could share as a fellow human being."

This is in no way a comprehensive post about tumblr, and there are other posts about how tumblr culture may cultivate negative social behaviors. My ultimate point is that this melting-pot of negativity is not encouraging people to learn, but encourages people to feel shame, and does not change dynamics.

Dissolving Shame

I got dismissed from college a year ago.

A couple of days ago, I went to a booksigning for Charlotte Pierce-Baker, a phenomenal writer and professor at Vanderbilt University. She and her husband, Houston Baker, were doing a joint booksinging/speaking tour and came to my uni. She spoke of her latest book, This Fragile Life, a memoir on the Bakers' experiences with their bipolar, type one son and breaking the silence on mental illness in communities everywhere.

I went to speak to her and asked her about the silence she endured from relatives about her son's illness. She asked me if I had endured such silence, too. I spent a lot of time crying from the pain of recalling my mother's denial and hostility towards my depression and silence, and her continuing denial of that part of my life. 

I was comforted in Pierce-Baker's reinforcement of the facts that I knew well: stigma promotes silence, and silence promotes shame, and shame promotes silence and more stigma. You have to own your pain and tragedy in order to move on and become what you need to become, or want to become. Speak up and let everyone know that you are somebody.

My truth is that I am the culmination of my parent's sacrifices, dreams, migration, and adversity above poverty and political strife, and their eldest child. I am the fire of the American Dream that pulls immigrants to our shores. I took classes for a career I didn't care about, and I simultaneously was depressed and anxious. I hid my illness and feelings from them, because I viewed myself as their child, not a sovereign adult with legitimate say in my life. I crawled from failure to failure until I could crawl no longer: I was stamped as a lost cause and thrown out of my university. The mark of shame was so grave that, although I had already had suicide attempts because my depression was a burden, burdening my parents with the failure of one of their dreams was too much for me, and I had tried again.

Obviously I am here, and am succeeding with and beyond my own talents, but I rarely tell that tale. I sometimes feel shame, responsibility that I lied to friends, family, and mentors, even as I was doing so to protect myself from potential hurt and harm. And yet, as I have emerged from adversity, that narrative has proved to be a strength and an asset in my renewed life: it helps others when they hear my story, it impresses administrators that, at a university that has a poor record of retaining students, I came back, and it is the quintessential American story - comeback kid came back and became something. The shame, with tale after tale told, dissipates. My failure moves into a strength, and the shame dissolves.

You are okay. You are not invalid, your feelings are not invalid, because you didn't go the course anyone except yourself set out for you. You are a beautiful human being, even as you fumble, make mistakes, or deal with challenges that are beyond your control. You are still deserving of respect and kindness, and no one can shame you to disgrace if you own those events. 

Everyone fails at some point - but own it and move towards your potential. Your life is not the language of conquest, but of discovery.