My maiden name is Irish in origin and I realized in recent months at the age of sixty that my Irish heritage was in some sense treated more secretly than my Cherokee heritage.
My mother was a German immigrant who grew up in Germany during World War II and its aftermath. My father spent 18.5 years of his 26.5 years of military service overseas, possibly in part because it was easier for him to be White passing as a foreigner.
I was molested as a child. I grew up in a family haunted by "dirty secrets" many of which were dirt from other people, from a larger context, from a racist society and from a world unable to heal up in the face of wars and other large scale problems individuals typically don't know how to adequately navigate.
While poor, I sometimes experienced abusive behavior from Black Americans thrilled to take their anger out on a White woman they thought was bereft of White privilege in spite of the world generally knowing damn well "White Privilege" is in no way a synonym for wealth or being upper class.
I get accused a lot of blaming the victim because I'm too truthful to be good, because I'm an equal opportunity offender who spent too much time in therapy, because social systems aren't just kept alive by the people who obviously benefit but are kept alive by all participants following the often unwritten rules.
I'm very well aware that racism, misogyny, homophobia and other social ills are alive and well. I just don't think we move on by playing the victim card to justify our own assholery towards members of some demographic we feel personally oppressed or wronged by merely because they are members of that demographic.
I spent some time running around like a ninny trying to share the good news with people still terrified of dying, thereby winning enemies and alienating people.
I'm a blogger. I'm an innocent woman who has more often than not felt like the truth has set me free rather than that the truth about me is ugly and something I want swept under the rug.
I believe oxygen and sunshine are cleansing.
It has won me no friends and many enemies. I persist because it has kept me alive when by all rights I should have died a long time ago for a long list of reasons.
I try to be kind. I am sometimes praised for being evenhanded.
I don't claim to be without bias while trying to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth in the court of public opinion knowing things will get misinterpreted -- sometimes intentionally so -- and there will never actually be enough hours in the day for the whole truth no matter how much I run my big fat mouth much to the annoyance of a world that has told me for years that I talk too much.
My mother was a German immigrant who grew up in Germany during World War II and its aftermath. My father spent 18.5 years of his 26.5 years of military service overseas, possibly in part because it was easier for him to be White passing as a foreigner.
I was molested as a child. I grew up in a family haunted by "dirty secrets" many of which were dirt from other people, from a larger context, from a racist society and from a world unable to heal up in the face of wars and other large scale problems individuals typically don't know how to adequately navigate.
I get accused a lot of blaming the victim because I'm too truthful to be good, because I'm an equal opportunity offender who spent too much time in therapy, because social systems aren't just kept alive by the people who obviously benefit but are kept alive by all participants following the often unwritten rules.
I'm very well aware that racism, misogyny, homophobia and other social ills are alive and well. I just don't think we move on by playing the victim card to justify our own assholery towards members of some demographic we feel personally oppressed or wronged by merely because they are members of that demographic.
I nearly died in my thirties and made my peace with my mortality. Everyone dies. Not everyone really lives.
I spent some time running around like a ninny trying to share the good news with people still terrified of dying, thereby winning enemies and alienating people.
I'm a blogger. I'm an innocent woman who has more often than not felt like the truth has set me free rather than that the truth about me is ugly and something I want swept under the rug.
I believe oxygen and sunshine are cleansing.
It has won me no friends and many enemies. I persist because it has kept me alive when by all rights I should have died a long time ago for a long list of reasons.
I try to be kind. I am sometimes praised for being evenhanded.
I don't claim to be without bias while trying to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth in the court of public opinion knowing things will get misinterpreted -- sometimes intentionally so -- and there will never actually be enough hours in the day for the whole truth no matter how much I run my big fat mouth much to the annoyance of a world that has told me for years that I talk too much.