I've been having a lot of trouble with tenses lately. When I talk about Jason do I have to use past-tense? I hate it and sometimes refuse. I still say "I love Jason" because that is firmly in the present and doesn't stop, but I also sometimes say things like "Jason once told me that he thinks..." which is past and present at the same time. When I refer to what is now just Gaea's house I find myself unable not to say "they're fixing it up".
I am in this very weird stage of denial, and have been for a while, where I know and believe that Jason died but do not believe that he is dead. This can't possibly be forever. No way. A thing happened and it was terrible and it is terrible still but like, nothing this bad could be true forever. Even Trump has term limits. It cannot keep being this way indefinitely. I find myself thinking about things I wish I could do with my brother, like taking him out to my field site the way I took my mom this week, as things I will do with him, you know, when this whole death thing is over.
Usually I feel like it is my job to make it stop. Like, if I could go back and change some of the things we said to each other in the months before he died. If I could take back some of the words and some of the feelings it could end this extended Scrooge scenario where I'm supposed to learn some lessons and fix how I act and then go back and avert the Darkest Timeline. Or like maybe I can't go back but if I treat everyone in my life perfectly now and make them all feel good all the time and be a better more open person then this whole "death" thing will end and I get my brother back.
I can't tell if this is normal grief or me going insane. Maybe feeling like you're going insane is a part of normal grief. Or "normal" grief for someone who also has unresolved mental disorders.
I suppose it is interesting and also pertinent that Christians and people of many other religions do think that they have to be very very good the rest of their lives to see their loved ones in the next life. I get why that is comforting. If I believed in that kind of afterlife I would throw myself into volunteering and do everything I could to make sure I got to see my brother again. It would be nice to have a concrete thing I could do to work towards it.
But I don't. I'm not Christian. I'm not religious. I don't believe that when I die I'll meet Jason on a cloud and we'll wear Birkenstocks and fly around. I don't know precisely what I believe but it's not that and that's a different blog post.
Instead I feel stuck. I feel helpless. Call me a classic younger sibling but I feel like there must be something I can do to get what I want, to get my brother back. I don't want to heal. I don't want to move on. I don't want to stop obsessing over what I could have/should have/done/said/if only...because that's giving up on the idea that I can fix it. That I can get to the Underworld level and drag him back like a video game. If I start to heal I might start to forget him. If I start to move forward I might leave him behind. Assuming I live five more years I'll be older than my older brother. That's unacceptable. I refuse to do that. I don't want to wallow for the rest of my life, either, but there has to, HAS TO be something productive I can do for Jason, for my parents, for Gaea, for his friends, for my friends and family, for anyone else who is hurting. I need to make it up to him, make it up to them. But how could I?
Did you know that the more often you remember things the less accurately you remember them? Because every time you call up the memory small things change and then you call up the slightly changed memory and it slightly changes again and again and so on. I want to remember everything. I want to build a perfect memory castle in my mind, but the more I try the more likely the memories are to slip.
Then there's the whole part where we are siblings. We fought. A lot. Mostly when we were kids, but also more recently. We've been arguing lately. I was still feeling pretty freshly hurt on April 30th. I was only feeling hurt because I love him so incredibly much, but still, I was hurt and angry. Do those feelings no longer count? Sometimes we didn't talk for long periods of time. Not that big of a deal when you're going to have each other for the next fifty years at least. How do I stop beating myself up for not calling him monthly or weekly or daily knowing what I know now? Do I focus on remembering the things I wish were different just as much as the good times?
When I was at my grandfather's funeral in Virginia I had a dream that Jason was there with me only it wasn't an idealized vision of sibling love, it was what would actually probably happen which is that there would be some awkward silences. We would argue about something and I would feel like he wasn't listening to me fully and he would not understand why I wouldn't just let it go. Do I let him become a more perfect but less interesting person in my head? Is that kind or a disservice and to whom?
Shouldn't I wallow and feel terrible all the time? After all, there is no good reason why he should have died and I shouldn't. It probably should have been me. Shouldn't I never ever feel better? But also, do I now owe how I live my life in part to my brother? Should I be happy sparkly rainbows all the time? How can I learn to take up more space in other peoples' lives when I know that A) I am a shambling wreck right now and hurting the people I love, especially because I'm not even ready to try to do anything but grieve and B) by loving other humans I am opening myself up to the possibility of another beloved life that might just be lost too soon.
Is there a way to grieve healthily? If you grieve healthily does it mean you didn't really love the person who died? Is worrying about how I'm grieving super self-involved? Should this whole blog post be about other people and not about how I feel? Is it okay for me to decide it's okay for me to feel okay sometimes?
All this, to say: I've got therapy on Monday.
Friday, June 16, 2017
Saturday, May 27, 2017
Grief Realtalk Part Deux
I've had a couple of good days in a row. Or at least, I haven't been sobbing much. It's hard to tell if I'm feeling better or just numb. And if I am feeling numb, that's bad and I should stop. And if I am feeling better, isn't that just awful? It's been less than a month! I should still be a completely wrecked shell! What does it mean about me as a person, as a sister if I'm starting to get over it?
I did some good self-care stuff this morning. I even got dressed and wandered the farmer's market downtown with Gordon. I was having a lovely time looking at sparkly sparkly jewelry I would never buy when a young mother behind me admonished her child, "Be careful, Jason!"
Then I started crying and hyperventilating in the middle of the farmer's market.
I'm not over anything. Of course I'm not.
Now I just need to convince myself that it's okay to not feel devastated constantly; that even enjoying myself on occasion or having a couple good days in a row are not things I should feel incredibly guilty about forever. Also numbness is probably occasionally necessary and okay in small doses. Just believing those things are okay is going to be hard. Grief is a lot of work.
I did some good self-care stuff this morning. I even got dressed and wandered the farmer's market downtown with Gordon. I was having a lovely time looking at sparkly sparkly jewelry I would never buy when a young mother behind me admonished her child, "Be careful, Jason!"
Then I started crying and hyperventilating in the middle of the farmer's market.
I'm not over anything. Of course I'm not.
Now I just need to convince myself that it's okay to not feel devastated constantly; that even enjoying myself on occasion or having a couple good days in a row are not things I should feel incredibly guilty about forever. Also numbness is probably occasionally necessary and okay in small doses. Just believing those things are okay is going to be hard. Grief is a lot of work.
Monday, May 22, 2017
Grief Realtalk
The stages of grief are bullshit. Like, I have definitely felt most of them: bargaining, wishing I could somehow trade my walking away from a car accident two years ago for Jason walking away from this one; depression, for sure; denial, comes and goes; but they're interspersed with lots of other feelings and they appear and disappear in a random order.
For a few days now I've been mostly solidly stuck in Anger. I am angry at the people who offer comfort of the "You'll see him again" or "Your dog is comforting your brother" variety. So far no one has said to me that everything happens for a reason which is good because I would break their nose. I am angry at you for having siblings. Not that I want anyone else to feel these feelings, I don't wish that or harm on anyone, but fuck you for still having yours when I'm alone in a way I was never supposed to be.
I am angry at the assholes who ran that fucking red light. I am angry at everyone I see driving even a little erratically. I'm angry at all the Gods and gods I don't even believe in. I'm angry at myself for things I said and didn't say, things I did and didn't do. I'm angry at time. I am so, so angry. And I have no idea what to do with it.
For a few days now I've been mostly solidly stuck in Anger. I am angry at the people who offer comfort of the "You'll see him again" or "Your dog is comforting your brother" variety. So far no one has said to me that everything happens for a reason which is good because I would break their nose. I am angry at you for having siblings. Not that I want anyone else to feel these feelings, I don't wish that or harm on anyone, but fuck you for still having yours when I'm alone in a way I was never supposed to be.
I am angry at the assholes who ran that fucking red light. I am angry at everyone I see driving even a little erratically. I'm angry at all the Gods and gods I don't even believe in. I'm angry at myself for things I said and didn't say, things I did and didn't do. I'm angry at time. I am so, so angry. And I have no idea what to do with it.
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
It is Not My Job to be Pretty
I'd like to first start off by saying that I IN NO WAY look down on or seek to change people who love makeup, who take pride in their artistry with it, who love high heels or fancy suits or dress to impress or any other way they want. If that makes you happy, more power to you! This is not about "that shouldn't make you happy". This is about slowly realizing that it doesn't make me happy, and that I don't have to do it anyway.
Until very recently I had rules about how I could dress. There were fewer and fewer of them as I grew older (I learned to love my legs and not feel like I needed to hide them in order to shield the eyes of the masses, I even learned that it's totally fine if I don't shave them all the time AND that sometimes I really do want to shave them and BOTH of those are okay). I bought huge silly glasses because I wanted them, without trying them on first, and then I bought giant BLUE glasses which I have always wanted and never thought I was allowed to have because they make me look silly not pretty. I shaved my head and I didn't look as pretty without my curls but I looked like a badass which is just as good, maybe better. I learned that leggings totally, totally are pants and that "my stomach isn't perfect so I can't wear crop tops" is stupid.
The titular realization really started with shaving my head. I wanted to be cool. Like, literally. I was working outside for ten hours a day in hot, humid, Florida and any hair was too much. I wavered about it for a while but the decision to do it came from that realization. "It is not my job to be pretty." My job is to be a field biologist and to love and enjoy my body and do what makes me feel good and shaving my head helped me do all of those things. I had to haggle with the barber, who did not feel comfortable shaving my head and at the end told me I was "lucky to be pretty enough to pull it off" which made me super uncomfortable, but it felt awesome and it looked super cool. I started posting pictures of me making silly faces instead of always smiling perfectly. I started barely looking in the mirror or at pictures before I posted them because my hair always looked the same, and that has continued since my hair has grown in. I don't know what it's doing up there, it's just kind of crazy curly and doing it's thing. It does its job, I'll do mine.
I've barely worn makeup in years but I've recently decided that even for big events there is no rule that says that I have to try. Sometimes I want to and it's kind of fun if I can make it look nice but I really don't like how it feels on my face and how hard it is to get off and how stressful I find trying to put it on. So. Why do it, unless I want to? It is not my job.
Similarly, I've very recently started Accepting my Eyebrows. I have Some Eyebrows. I kind of wish they were less bushy and shaped more nicely. But you know what? I really don't wish that enough to painfully pluck them all the time or pay someone to rip the hairs out or learn how to do whatever other methods of hair-removal there are. I used to shame myself when I didn't remember to pluck regularly. Which was always. Because I hated doing it and it was a chore and it is NOT MY JOB. So instead I have embraced my weird bushy eyebrows. And if I feel compelled to pluck them, I will, it's not a hard and fast "plucking your eyebrows is giving into misogyny" kind of rule, it's just...if I want to I will, if I don't, I won't.
The rule I haven't stopped to consider changing (until now) is my No Warm Colors rule. Back in middle school I went to one of those Makeup Parties where they try to sell you makeup and tell you things look good on you so you'll buy them, etc. They did this thing where they lay two fabric swatches across your chest and had everyone look at your face. One side was Cool Colors and one side was Warm. They went around and did this to every girl in the room. Most of them looked basically the same on both sides but they got to me and everyone in the room went "Oh my god, you look SO bad in warm colors." So from that day on it became a Rule. More than a rule, it became almost a disability. "Oh man, I love that shirt but I can't wear warm colors", etc. I never questioned it. They had told me it made me look bad. I could not knowingly do something that makes me look bad. It's against The Rules.
A few months ago I bought a bright pink shirt at Goodwill because I was going to some Breast Cancer Awareness night at a club with a friend and everyone was supposed to wear pink. It was only a few bucks and the cut looked pretty good on me but it was definitely a Warm Pink and so I would only wear it for this one occasion in which I was forced to and then I would donate it back or give it to someone or only wear it for fieldwork or exercise or something where no one would see me.
But it stayed in my drawer. And I liked it. It stood out among my sea of blues and greens. I wore it to yoga a couple of times. I wore it when I was just lounging around the house. I would never want anyone in the outside world to see me in it, but I could wear it with my dark green pants on days when I felt shitty and feel like an adorable watermelon instead.
And today I was digging through my shirts for something to wear and I looked at my bright pink shirt and thought "Oh, but I was planning on going out today so I probably shouldn't..." and then I thought "OH MY GOD IT IS NOT MY JOB TO LOOK PRETTY" and I put it on. And you know what? I really don't think it looks bad. Maybe I will buy more pink things. Or yellow. Or orange! Maybe I am ALLOWED TO WEAR ALL OF THE COLORS!! What a crazy world that would be!
Until very recently I had rules about how I could dress. There were fewer and fewer of them as I grew older (I learned to love my legs and not feel like I needed to hide them in order to shield the eyes of the masses, I even learned that it's totally fine if I don't shave them all the time AND that sometimes I really do want to shave them and BOTH of those are okay). I bought huge silly glasses because I wanted them, without trying them on first, and then I bought giant BLUE glasses which I have always wanted and never thought I was allowed to have because they make me look silly not pretty. I shaved my head and I didn't look as pretty without my curls but I looked like a badass which is just as good, maybe better. I learned that leggings totally, totally are pants and that "my stomach isn't perfect so I can't wear crop tops" is stupid.
The titular realization really started with shaving my head. I wanted to be cool. Like, literally. I was working outside for ten hours a day in hot, humid, Florida and any hair was too much. I wavered about it for a while but the decision to do it came from that realization. "It is not my job to be pretty." My job is to be a field biologist and to love and enjoy my body and do what makes me feel good and shaving my head helped me do all of those things. I had to haggle with the barber, who did not feel comfortable shaving my head and at the end told me I was "lucky to be pretty enough to pull it off" which made me super uncomfortable, but it felt awesome and it looked super cool. I started posting pictures of me making silly faces instead of always smiling perfectly. I started barely looking in the mirror or at pictures before I posted them because my hair always looked the same, and that has continued since my hair has grown in. I don't know what it's doing up there, it's just kind of crazy curly and doing it's thing. It does its job, I'll do mine.
I've barely worn makeup in years but I've recently decided that even for big events there is no rule that says that I have to try. Sometimes I want to and it's kind of fun if I can make it look nice but I really don't like how it feels on my face and how hard it is to get off and how stressful I find trying to put it on. So. Why do it, unless I want to? It is not my job.
Similarly, I've very recently started Accepting my Eyebrows. I have Some Eyebrows. I kind of wish they were less bushy and shaped more nicely. But you know what? I really don't wish that enough to painfully pluck them all the time or pay someone to rip the hairs out or learn how to do whatever other methods of hair-removal there are. I used to shame myself when I didn't remember to pluck regularly. Which was always. Because I hated doing it and it was a chore and it is NOT MY JOB. So instead I have embraced my weird bushy eyebrows. And if I feel compelled to pluck them, I will, it's not a hard and fast "plucking your eyebrows is giving into misogyny" kind of rule, it's just...if I want to I will, if I don't, I won't.
 |
| Some Eyebrows |
The rule I haven't stopped to consider changing (until now) is my No Warm Colors rule. Back in middle school I went to one of those Makeup Parties where they try to sell you makeup and tell you things look good on you so you'll buy them, etc. They did this thing where they lay two fabric swatches across your chest and had everyone look at your face. One side was Cool Colors and one side was Warm. They went around and did this to every girl in the room. Most of them looked basically the same on both sides but they got to me and everyone in the room went "Oh my god, you look SO bad in warm colors." So from that day on it became a Rule. More than a rule, it became almost a disability. "Oh man, I love that shirt but I can't wear warm colors", etc. I never questioned it. They had told me it made me look bad. I could not knowingly do something that makes me look bad. It's against The Rules.
A few months ago I bought a bright pink shirt at Goodwill because I was going to some Breast Cancer Awareness night at a club with a friend and everyone was supposed to wear pink. It was only a few bucks and the cut looked pretty good on me but it was definitely a Warm Pink and so I would only wear it for this one occasion in which I was forced to and then I would donate it back or give it to someone or only wear it for fieldwork or exercise or something where no one would see me.
But it stayed in my drawer. And I liked it. It stood out among my sea of blues and greens. I wore it to yoga a couple of times. I wore it when I was just lounging around the house. I would never want anyone in the outside world to see me in it, but I could wear it with my dark green pants on days when I felt shitty and feel like an adorable watermelon instead.
And today I was digging through my shirts for something to wear and I looked at my bright pink shirt and thought "Oh, but I was planning on going out today so I probably shouldn't..." and then I thought "OH MY GOD IT IS NOT MY JOB TO LOOK PRETTY" and I put it on. And you know what? I really don't think it looks bad. Maybe I will buy more pink things. Or yellow. Or orange! Maybe I am ALLOWED TO WEAR ALL OF THE COLORS!! What a crazy world that would be!
 |
| Pink shirt, hair going everywhere, silly face, bushy eyebrows. This is the first picture I took and it is fine. I don't have to take 8 more and pick the VERY BEST ONE. This is so fucking freeing, you guys! |
Monday, February 13, 2017
A Midwesterner in Louisiana
So far I haven't really had "culture shock" down here, but then, I haven't gotten out that much yet, either. However, I have noticed a few key differences.
Administrators
Having now spoken to what I can only assume is roughly half of the administrators on campus for various things, I feel I have a firm handle on this one.
My whole life it has been impressed upon me that when you walk up to someone, say, a receptionist or other administrative-type-person from whom you want something, you stand very quietly and hopefully until they acknowledge you. In the Midwest if you get impatient or just anxious that they might not have noticed you and say "Um, excuse me?" very sweetly before they are done doing whatever they are doing you will get a glare-smile and they will be icily polite to you in a way that makes you feel ashamed and also fear that they will "lose" whatever precious paperwork you just handed them.
Here, no one will pay any attention to you if you are just hovering over their desk awkwardly. They will just keep doing whatever they're doing, even if it is blatantly texting on their phone, until you announce yourself. Then they will drop whatever they're doing and turn to you and you (read:me) will brace yourself for their Smile of Death or even worse their one finger and "I'll be with you in a moment" said quickly without looking at you or moving their mouth. But instead, miraculously, they are cheerful and happy to help you! Sometimes they even tell you about the last time they had to get an X-ray or whatever you're trying to get accomplished. They aren't angry at you for speaking at all! They just weren't going to be the ones to end the unbearable awkwardness. I'm starting to wonder if maybe no one down here feels palpable unbearable awkwardness permeating every situation the way Midwesterners do. (That is a Midwest thing, right? Not just me?).
Similarly,
Passive-Aggression
They do not know what passive-aggression is. Or at least, they only play in the minor leagues. At my UU service last week the Reverend was talking about how everyone seems to be enraged but express it politely (he did not even use the term passive-aggressive) and my heart fell for a moment because I thought the South was so much more open than that! Then he gave some examples which were things like "Oh good, I'm so glad you were late, it's not like I had anything else to do." Which is not even a little bit polite and I can't even imagine a real human saying that. A Midwesterner would say "No, don't worry, it's fine." with a strangely fixed smile and murder in their eyes.
How Are You?
THEY REALLY ACTUALLY SEEM TO WANT TO KNOW! I am so used to using no more than two words to express my mood to anyone who asks, even friends. I have the habit of saying "Pretty good" even when at a funeral or in the hospital for a car accident or whatever. Because there is that permeating sense of awkwardness if you try to reply for real (with friends we circle back to it eventually, but the most I usually open with is "Not great" and wait for them to signal that they are interested in hearing more).
Here they describe their illness symptoms, tell you all about the problems they're having with getting their house restored after the flood, tell you about how they've been working at this same store for 41 years and never really had a dream and never want to learn to cook (true story, that happened within a minute of meeting someone). IT'S FANTASTIC! Sometimes I start to get impatient and I frequently respond "Pretty good, how are you?" and then listen to 10 minutes of information but I love it and I want it and I'm going to get better at giving people my full attention and telling them something real because it seems really important.
 |
| For one thing, it is already spring here, and spring lasts for *months* not just two weeks! |
Administrators
Having now spoken to what I can only assume is roughly half of the administrators on campus for various things, I feel I have a firm handle on this one.
My whole life it has been impressed upon me that when you walk up to someone, say, a receptionist or other administrative-type-person from whom you want something, you stand very quietly and hopefully until they acknowledge you. In the Midwest if you get impatient or just anxious that they might not have noticed you and say "Um, excuse me?" very sweetly before they are done doing whatever they are doing you will get a glare-smile and they will be icily polite to you in a way that makes you feel ashamed and also fear that they will "lose" whatever precious paperwork you just handed them.
Here, no one will pay any attention to you if you are just hovering over their desk awkwardly. They will just keep doing whatever they're doing, even if it is blatantly texting on their phone, until you announce yourself. Then they will drop whatever they're doing and turn to you and you (read:me) will brace yourself for their Smile of Death or even worse their one finger and "I'll be with you in a moment" said quickly without looking at you or moving their mouth. But instead, miraculously, they are cheerful and happy to help you! Sometimes they even tell you about the last time they had to get an X-ray or whatever you're trying to get accomplished. They aren't angry at you for speaking at all! They just weren't going to be the ones to end the unbearable awkwardness. I'm starting to wonder if maybe no one down here feels palpable unbearable awkwardness permeating every situation the way Midwesterners do. (That is a Midwest thing, right? Not just me?).
Similarly,
Passive-Aggression
They do not know what passive-aggression is. Or at least, they only play in the minor leagues. At my UU service last week the Reverend was talking about how everyone seems to be enraged but express it politely (he did not even use the term passive-aggressive) and my heart fell for a moment because I thought the South was so much more open than that! Then he gave some examples which were things like "Oh good, I'm so glad you were late, it's not like I had anything else to do." Which is not even a little bit polite and I can't even imagine a real human saying that. A Midwesterner would say "No, don't worry, it's fine." with a strangely fixed smile and murder in their eyes.
How Are You?
THEY REALLY ACTUALLY SEEM TO WANT TO KNOW! I am so used to using no more than two words to express my mood to anyone who asks, even friends. I have the habit of saying "Pretty good" even when at a funeral or in the hospital for a car accident or whatever. Because there is that permeating sense of awkwardness if you try to reply for real (with friends we circle back to it eventually, but the most I usually open with is "Not great" and wait for them to signal that they are interested in hearing more).
Here they describe their illness symptoms, tell you all about the problems they're having with getting their house restored after the flood, tell you about how they've been working at this same store for 41 years and never really had a dream and never want to learn to cook (true story, that happened within a minute of meeting someone). IT'S FANTASTIC! Sometimes I start to get impatient and I frequently respond "Pretty good, how are you?" and then listen to 10 minutes of information but I love it and I want it and I'm going to get better at giving people my full attention and telling them something real because it seems really important.
Thursday, January 26, 2017
I'm kind of freaking out.
This is an extremely weird time. Two days after the inauguration of Trump I moved almost as far south as I could get, to Baton Rouge, Louisiana to start a masters degree at LSU in Renewable Natural Resources. It's currently halfway through my first week. Longing for my partner, missing my friends, not sure how to find community here, not sure how being myself will be taken by my new colleagues. I feel constantly exhausted by the deluge of horror that's spilling from the white house every day, but I also feel really excited to be in this beautiful place following my dreams. My dreams to research and conserve our beautiful world and the creatures in it who are being harmed by human nonsense. Like the two ridiculous pipelines Trump just okayed and the extraction and use of fossil fuels which I'm sure will increase since the EPA is basically on lockdown right now and everyone employed by the DOI is supposed to stop communicating with the public and if it were possible Trump would order that use of the phrase "climate change" be made a felony. The CDC even had to cancel a summit on the health effects of climate change which should NOT be a political issue! Not allowing the sharing of that information is murder.
Meanwhile I'm down here overjoyed because I FINALLY have access to every science database that has ever thwarted me by asking exorbitant amounts of money for anything more than an abstract (you mean I can search Wiley AND Science Direct????? Ravenclaw HEAVEN). My project is to look at the effect on nesting waterbirds of a restoration project on a barrier island to mitigate sea-level rise due to climate change. This project is basically perfect and I've been wanting to go to graduate school for six years and I'm HERE, studying wetlands in one of the most unique and well-preserved areas for wetlands in the world (but also incredibly fragile and susceptible to things like oil spills and climate change). I'm also feeling more comfortable being openly queer than I ever have before (or was, before I moved South), something I've worked hard at for a really long time.
So I'm so excited and I'm terrified all of this is going to get ripped away. I'm pretty sure all my funding is through the state of Louisiana but I work in the USGS Cooperative Unit here at LSU which is who pays my advisor and is a part of the Department of the Interior. I am actually not positive whether any of my grant money comes from them or not. So far they are not affected by the same shutdowns the EPA and Forest Service and National Parks are, to my knowledge but...is it only a matter of time? Will Wisconsin actually shut down their DNR and if they do will other states follow them? Will I be unobtrusive enough to be allowed to continue my research? Will there be renewable natural resources LEFT when I graduate, much less jobs to research and protect them?
Am I safe as a queer female scientist in this country? Should I even bother applying for healthcare down here since it seems to be rapidly disappearing? Is it selfish to worry about all of that when I know I still have a lot of privilege and am not in as much danger as immigrants, Muslims, black people, and many other groups? I read an article recently saying that in order to preserve the strength to stay angry and keep fighting back you have to pick and choose a couple of causes to rally behind because you will burn out if you try to do everything at once. That makes sense to me. But how can I choose? The ones that affect me most? The ones that do the most harm to people in general? How can I, as a feminist, as a queer woman, as an empathetic human, not also stand up for black lives and native lives and Muslim lives and immigrant lives and science and truth and art and justice and prison reform and the environment and living wages and healthcare for all and freedom of the press and against LITERALLY EVERYTHING TRUMP STANDS FOR. How can I not be there for all of it? I mean, I actually can't. It pulls me apart when I try, I go numb and catatonic and useless. And I try to tell myself that the research I'm doing is resistance, is helping, that taking care of myself is necessary to revolution, that caring for my friends and family is too, that just being me is an act of rebellion, etc. etc. etc. but I don't know if I believe any of that. What could possibly be enough against this much evil?
Meanwhile I'm down here overjoyed because I FINALLY have access to every science database that has ever thwarted me by asking exorbitant amounts of money for anything more than an abstract (you mean I can search Wiley AND Science Direct????? Ravenclaw HEAVEN). My project is to look at the effect on nesting waterbirds of a restoration project on a barrier island to mitigate sea-level rise due to climate change. This project is basically perfect and I've been wanting to go to graduate school for six years and I'm HERE, studying wetlands in one of the most unique and well-preserved areas for wetlands in the world (but also incredibly fragile and susceptible to things like oil spills and climate change). I'm also feeling more comfortable being openly queer than I ever have before (or was, before I moved South), something I've worked hard at for a really long time.
So I'm so excited and I'm terrified all of this is going to get ripped away. I'm pretty sure all my funding is through the state of Louisiana but I work in the USGS Cooperative Unit here at LSU which is who pays my advisor and is a part of the Department of the Interior. I am actually not positive whether any of my grant money comes from them or not. So far they are not affected by the same shutdowns the EPA and Forest Service and National Parks are, to my knowledge but...is it only a matter of time? Will Wisconsin actually shut down their DNR and if they do will other states follow them? Will I be unobtrusive enough to be allowed to continue my research? Will there be renewable natural resources LEFT when I graduate, much less jobs to research and protect them?
Am I safe as a queer female scientist in this country? Should I even bother applying for healthcare down here since it seems to be rapidly disappearing? Is it selfish to worry about all of that when I know I still have a lot of privilege and am not in as much danger as immigrants, Muslims, black people, and many other groups? I read an article recently saying that in order to preserve the strength to stay angry and keep fighting back you have to pick and choose a couple of causes to rally behind because you will burn out if you try to do everything at once. That makes sense to me. But how can I choose? The ones that affect me most? The ones that do the most harm to people in general? How can I, as a feminist, as a queer woman, as an empathetic human, not also stand up for black lives and native lives and Muslim lives and immigrant lives and science and truth and art and justice and prison reform and the environment and living wages and healthcare for all and freedom of the press and against LITERALLY EVERYTHING TRUMP STANDS FOR. How can I not be there for all of it? I mean, I actually can't. It pulls me apart when I try, I go numb and catatonic and useless. And I try to tell myself that the research I'm doing is resistance, is helping, that taking care of myself is necessary to revolution, that caring for my friends and family is too, that just being me is an act of rebellion, etc. etc. etc. but I don't know if I believe any of that. What could possibly be enough against this much evil?
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
27 Things I Learned in my 27th Year
1. Explanations and apologies are not the same thing.
2. It's okay to take a break.
3. I am not nearly as trusting or open as I thought I was.
4. How to tube and tag venomous snakes.
5. I have a mental disorder.
6. "Sometimes human beings just have to sit in one place and, like, hurt." (Infinite Jest)
7. I can just book airline tickets without permission from anyone else.
8. How to safely engage in civil disobedience/peaceful arrestable actions.
9. How to deepsea fish.
10. Polyamorous relationships are hard but great and totally worth it.
11. How to ear-tag small rodents.
12. You cannot force someone to love you the way you want them to, and if the way they want a relationship is too painful for you, you CAN walk away.
13. I'm better at cooking than I thought I was.
14. I can let other people take care of me. Sometimes. If I try really, really hard.
15. How to get angry (not just abstract political anger but like, at humans I know and love).
16. I look damn good with a shaved head.
17. How to commit.
18. You don't have to be tolerant of hate, ignorance, or intolerance. This includes arguing civilly to try to change minds.
19. It's okay to be wrong sometimes.
20. Anti-depressants/-anxiety meds aren't terrifying and didn't change my personality. And they actually can help a lot.
21. How to bachata.
22. Leggings are pants and crop tops are shirts.
23. How to find Bachman's sparrow nests.
24. What shame is. But like, in the way that a fish learns what water is.
25. I'm better at embroidery than I thought I was.
26. Our country is way more horrifying than I thought. Just way more.
27. It's okay to tell the truth.
2. It's okay to take a break.
3. I am not nearly as trusting or open as I thought I was.
4. How to tube and tag venomous snakes.
5. I have a mental disorder.
6. "Sometimes human beings just have to sit in one place and, like, hurt." (Infinite Jest)
7. I can just book airline tickets without permission from anyone else.
8. How to safely engage in civil disobedience/peaceful arrestable actions.
9. How to deepsea fish.
10. Polyamorous relationships are hard but great and totally worth it.
11. How to ear-tag small rodents.
12. You cannot force someone to love you the way you want them to, and if the way they want a relationship is too painful for you, you CAN walk away.
13. I'm better at cooking than I thought I was.
14. I can let other people take care of me. Sometimes. If I try really, really hard.
15. How to get angry (not just abstract political anger but like, at humans I know and love).
16. I look damn good with a shaved head.
17. How to commit.
18. You don't have to be tolerant of hate, ignorance, or intolerance. This includes arguing civilly to try to change minds.
19. It's okay to be wrong sometimes.
20. Anti-depressants/-anxiety meds aren't terrifying and didn't change my personality. And they actually can help a lot.
21. How to bachata.
22. Leggings are pants and crop tops are shirts.
23. How to find Bachman's sparrow nests.
24. What shame is. But like, in the way that a fish learns what water is.
25. I'm better at embroidery than I thought I was.
26. Our country is way more horrifying than I thought. Just way more.
27. It's okay to tell the truth.
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