Currently watching the second episode of PBS’ documentary, Latino Americans. While discussing the US takeover of Puerto Rico, there’s a single line about how schools are commanded to teach in English, for benign assimilation. The violent act of taking political power, cultural identity, and then hiding the truths from the children so as to indoctrinate the next generation - “Benign.”
but it totally isn’t. Not for me, anyway.
I’m on medical leave from work for at least the next month, and while I’m very fortunate to have health insurance, I was already cutting things close with my monthly budget, and doctors’ co-pays plus out-of-network costs have taken a real bite out of me.
I don’t like asking for help without being able to offer something in return, but I don’t really have much. I can copyedit stuff that you email to me, or provide help with writing a paper if that’s something you need… I’m open to that.
If you’re willing to help out, or wouldn’t mind paying this-here odd stranger for doing writerly-assistant things, I’d be so grateful. There’s a link to my Paypal on my page [edit: would insert link here but formatting hasn’t been working right for some reason], and if you’re interested in copyediting/paper help/whatever, shoot me an email at crankyskirt [!at] gmail so we can work something out.
Thanks so much - I really do appreciate that you’ve read this far, even if you are not in a position to give. ^_^
i form attachment to mobility devices really quickly. when i first got my cane, even on days when i felt like i wouldn’t need it, i would use it anyways because it comforted me in believing that i could have more mobility freedom than when i didn’t - and for the most part, that was true for every day that i used it.
i just got a bike like 2 seconds ago but i am already feeling attached to it and really happy i did this for myself. i am thinking about the freedom that comes with believing that i can do whatever i want, get to whereever i need to get even if sometimes i can’t. being able to bike across campus or even just down the street is much less intimidating than walking there. i am grateful for all of the things my body is and is not capable of doing.
i want all of us to have the kind of mobility freedom that we seek. i want all of us to be able to feel like superheroes with our canes and wheelchairs and walkers and bikes and cars. i want us to be able to get where we need to get even if we couldn’t get inside (for now). i want the things that help our body move be as legitimate as our body, be considered as a part of our body, be as valued as a part of our bodies.
i want it all
(In fantasies of democracy, the enslaver rescues the savage from barbarity, and the abolitionist saves the savage from the enslaver. Afrarealism sees both forms of “salvation” as captivity.)
If I’ve learnt anything from my contact with the bdsm community, the poly community, the geek community and the atheist community is that any social group who claims to “not to be like other groups” and to be”accepting and safe for all” is going to spend a lot of energy hiding the predators within the community and silencing abuse survivors.
Q: The most popular types of characters in comedy these days seem to be adults unwilling to grow up. This is common in Hollywood, as well as literature. The eternal teen. But your characters tend to be real adults who are doing their best to live, struggling mightily. There’s no Peter Pan Syndrome at work.
A: I think I had a little advantage in this, in that I didn’t really get started until I already had a regular life — a job, a wife, two kids — so the idea of eternal youth had flown. And it had flown for good reason, by which I mean: I was totally on board with it having flown. I didn’t feel reduced or compromised by having a job and family. The whole 1970s idea of “selling out” had been rendered anachronistic and even gross by the extent of my love for my wife and kids. Beatniking was not an option anymore. So then I had to learn that the things that were actually bothering me or challenging me during the day were valid subjects for literature. Mostly, at that time, what was bothering me was 1) not having enough money to provide for my family in the way they deserved, and 2) having a job that required me to spend basically my whole day doing things that I didn’t want to do and were simultaneously hard and boring but that were, at the time, the only antidote to (1). So I suppose that’s a fundamentally adult conundrum: no place to run, because the trap you’re in is made of love. Love plus material paucity.