Saturday, June 30, 2012

Ready for more

Okay, I just got a message from a friend asking how my mother's visit went, and I had actually forgotten, so I guess that's a good sign. I mean I didn't fall into deep dark depression drama, right? The most interesting part was at the very end, I think she started by asking me what would have made a safe environment growing up. Although immediately she qualified this by saying that she didn't want to talk about what we don't agree happened, is that how she phrased it? Or did she say: the sexual abuse. And I didn't say that of course we can't talk about what would've created a safe environment without talking about the sexual abuse, or I didn't say that exactly. Of course she knows that, or she knows that I think that, but sometimes with my mother it's hard to say. I mean we can have the same conversation in different forms over and over, and I can't necessarily tell whether she integrates the information. Sometimes she does, and sometimes she doesn't.

So I have to go back and make sure that she knows the thing that always prevents us from having a deeper or more meaningful relationship is the fact that she won't acknowledge the sexual abuse. That would be a precursor. But then sometimes I sense that she thinks we already have that relationship, or at least I sensed that on this trip, and that's why I have to go back and make sure she knows. But what was fascinating was all the information she revealed, right at the end. First she asked if there was anything I wanted to talk about, and to tell you the truth I was too exhausted really to bring anything up, wasn't sure whether I wanted to talk about anything too meaningful. And then she launched into all of the details about her relationship with my father before I was born, and their time living in New York, mostly things I've never heard before, because she was never interested in talking about them. I took a lot of notes, so I'll have a lot more to say soon.

But then last night I went to this protest in response to police violence at an event the night before pride called Queers Fucking Queers, an attempted late-night dance party in the street that resulted in the police pepper spraying people in the face indiscriminately and dragging several off to jail, one woman by her hair, and also including a random bystander. So this protest, by a new group called GLITUR, or the Grand Legion of Incendiary and Tenacious Unicorn Revolutionaries, which started in the context of Occupy Seattle, was meant to commemorate the radical history of Stonewall and to confront anti-queer police brutality in Seattle. In spite of some logistical troubles and an endless range of people smoking in my face, dammit (Oh – and, Madonna, why, I ask you, why, Madonna? But don't get me wrong – I danced to “Vogue” and “Superstar” and even one of the newer songs, I will admit it was fun on Broadway yes Broadway), the roaming dance party through the streets of Capitol Hill with close to 100 queers actually ended up feeling hilarious and inspiring. I'm ready for more.


Lady J said...

Sounds like an emotional and exhausting day. Looks like the good and bad came together. It often does. Thank you for sharing so candidly.

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Thanks, Lady J -- emotional and exhausting but actually not as exhausting as usual so that part I like :)


Ian Awesome said...

Thanks for coming, Mattilda! You're quite the dancer.

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Yay -- thank you, Ian! I'm ready for more dancing in the street, that's for sure :)

Love –