I Stand By Her, I Believe Her

In the same week Bill Cosby faces sentencing, Brett Kavenaugh is facing strikingly similar accusations. But, it’s not about them. It’s about the women coming forward. It’s about all women. I wish there was something I could say to make this reality different. But, it’s also not about me. I know when the women in my life are very visibly, and justifiably, upset by this topic that it’s “not all men.” I know they know that too. Therefore, that’s not something I’ll ever say without quotations. Ever. I don’t take the frustrations, upsets, and pain women are feeling personally. Other than I know women I care about are strongly feeling those emotions. What I do take personally is other men, as good intentioned as they may be, saying “not all men.” No shit. Another thing I take personally is the fight to demand better from ALL men regarding the issues of sexual assault and rape. Because, even though it’s “not all”, so many men are showing us exactly why so many women don’t report incidents of assault, harassment, and rape. Talks and posts about men needing to be careful to even talk to women for fear their lives will be ruined... stop. We, ALL men, need to stop posting shit like that. We, ALL men need to be better. Act better. And call out those men that don’t. But, again, this isn’t about us. Or me. 

I mean, I can only truly imagine what it’s like to walk in a woman’s shoes. To live a woman’s life. I’ll never truly understand what it’s like. That’s why I know the best I’ve got is this, and this is solidarity.   

Talking Points

Talking Points

- “What about Chicago?” What about Chicago? Do you actually care about the crime and violence rates in Chicago? Or is it just a way to distract from the issue of racially motivated police brutality issues we’re talking about right now? (Or many other issues including, but not limited to, gun laws?)

- Speaking police brutality...

Black Lives Matter is not the same as the KKK. BLM was started as a declaration of self worth and preservation. As a stand against racial injustice facing black people. The KKK are a racist/xenophobic/bigoted  fascist organization that stands for the destruction of anyone that isn’t white or who doesn’t see things how they do. In other words, the KKK supports the racially motivated brutality BLM is against. 

- On fascism...

ANTIFA isn’t a group. It’s a philosophy that literally means anti-fascism. If someone is anti-anti-fascism that person is literally pro-fascism. 

- On Trump...

Trump is not being “misquoted” or “misrepresented” by the “fake news” out there. That’s not saying there isn’t fake news out there, there is. What it’s saying is that the media hits record, then playback. We are seeing and hearing exactly what he does and says. But, if the “he says it how it is” argument only works when he says something that doesn’t get him in trouble, it really doesn’t work at all. That’s an all or nothing approach. 

- Climate change...

Yes, there are factors of climate change that occur naturally without the influence of humans. However, many of those factors are extremely impacted and influenced by human activity. Activities like pollution of all sorts for one. This isn’t a debatable subject. Clean air, clean water, and healthy eco-systems are not parts of this world that can really be compromised. Period. 

- The “not all” argument... 

The “not all” argument is a very often used argument. Meaning, not all gun owners are mass murders. Or not all Muslims are terrorists. If we’re to get that “not all” of a particular group is responsible for one thing, that logic should carry over across issues. Exceptionalism really shouldn’t be a thing. But, annoyingly, it is. 

- Finally, “emotional” responses...

When one person tells another person that he/she is working off of emotion over logic it’s, more often than not, a way to dismiss and diminish they other person’s point of view. And often the other person’s relevance as a person altogether. A person, any person, really should be expected to care about an issue that he or she is talking about. Otherwise, why even say anything at all? 

 

Bill: The Death of My Biological Father

I really still don’t know what to do with this. These thoughts and feelings of, and around, the death of my biological father. I wrote this poem as a way to process it all. It’s safe to say I’m still processing. So, perhaps, the poem is just the start. I went back and forth with wanting and not wanting to share this for many reasons. Some of which is that ongoing process of letting go, or learning, or moving forward, or whatever it is that I’m doing with this. In any case, if you’re reading this, thank you. If you know what this all means, know that you’re not alone.

Bill: The Death of My Biological Father

My father just died.

I’m not even sure what to do with that.

How do I mourn the loss of someone who’s been gone for over half of my life? 

That’s just one of many questions he left me with.

That he left my brother with too.

Like a will written in riddles. 

He made many choices over many years.

The ones that had everything to do with my brother and me will never make sense now.

Would they ever?

Any and all answers died with him. 

His choices couldn’t have been clearer though.

He made so many choices.

“I won’t be a part time father.” 

He opted for being no father at all. 

I think at some point people started to see that saying I have my father’s eyes wasn’t the compliment they meant it as.

I didn’t know what that meant when I was younger

I didn’t know what I meant when I was younger

I just knew there wasn’t an immediate model to learn how to be a man by

(But I lost that long before he died)

I made my peace with the idea that the man I got my middle, and then last, name from had voluntarily left my life.

And that all of that defined me in more ways than I could, or ever will, possibly understand.

I was never at peace with that though

I’m still not

I don’t know how he did it

How he turned his back on two boys with such purpose and drive.

A model of being a man showing us that his only desire was to put himself as far away from my brother and me as he could.

That the hardest I can remember him working was for digging the largest gap he could between him and his sons.

So now I write this

Because he’s passed away

Because I really don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that

Am I sad for lost time?

Am I sad for a life lost?

I don’t know if it was wasted.

I don’t know if the energy and time I’m spending on every thought I’ve ever had for the man was, and is, a waste.

That at 3:something AM all I can do is think and write about a man that never showed he, at some point, ever thought about me,

Or my brother,

Is a waste.

This sure as hell isn’t a tribute to some great man.

There won’t ever be a tribute.

Not from me anyway.

I’m betting it won’t ever come from my brother either.

How do sons honor a man that acted without honorable mention? 

So I write. 

With all the thoughts and feelings that circle back to something simple.

But massive.

In showing me all the ways he did things, made choices,

Moved through his life,

Lived, then died, 

I know, concretely, fiercely, angrily, emotionally, and yes, even proudly,

The man I never want to be.  

The man I never want to be for _____.

The man I never want to be for anyone I love. 

The man I never want to be for anyone who loves me. 

Through choosing nothing, you gave me everything Bill. 

So, thank you for that. 

In showing me what not to do, I learned what to do.

It was a formidable and hard school to graduate from.

But, believe me,

This isn’t a backhanded thank you at all. 

In fact, it’s the only thanks you’ll ever get from me. 

Learning From History?

I Know Very Well What I'm Doing, But I Bet It's Not What You Think It Is

"Those that don't learn history are doomed to repeat it." 

It's a pretty solid quote right? Infallible in fact. Right? If we see the mistakes of the past, we can prevent the same mistakes now. Right?  If we all look at history as a chance to learn, it's so. Or is it? But what if we don't see the mistakes the same way? What if a mistake to me is a success to someone else? What if the past is a chance to learn to perfect previous practices? Still, not a "bad" thing. Right? 

In the middle of all of this questioning the past is a very present thought though. The talks of taking down Confederate statues, monuments, and symbols are as alive as ever. They've been there all my life. I know that. I overheard someone saying, "go to places that do that, and they have no history. They've erased it all." I then found myself saying, louder than I thought I said it, "there are no statues or monuments of Hitler anywhere, but we still know who he was." The look on the face of the guy I responded to was priceless. As I'm sure the look on mine was too due to my (un)intended volume. 

Still, I see the quote "heritage not hate" pasted on the images of the Confederate flag these days and I wonder, "what is that 'heritage' you refer to dear social media poster?" A quick read of the Cornerstone Speech (the Confederate Constitution) and the remarks of the man that designed the various Confederate flags will show anyone exactly what that specific heritage is. If that's what we're referring to, and with the quote and image linked as such, there's no mistaking what that is. None. 

The statues, monuments, and symbols though... There so we can learn the mistakes of the past. (Look into when a great number of them went up and why.) Many people are putting "mistakes" in quotes. Because, to them, slavery and racism aren't mistakes. The rest of us however say it's to protect history. However, it's really not that. We're protecting comfort. We're protecting a very real and present danger to many, many people in this country in the name of "preserving history." We're, in fact, celebrating it. Why? That's not just my question to answer. 

Though, I do know this... we haven't learned or moved on. And the "history" and "heritage" is there to make sure we don't. 

Do You Like Love Songs Too?

It can easily be said that I'm a sucker for love songs. Because it's true, I do really dig a well crafted love song. There's no use trying to deny that. So, here's my take on those songs of when a boy meets a girl. 

I Want To Know

I want to know so many things
I want to know why the universe exploded
And why the stars continue to shine
I want to know why Jay walking is a crime
I want to know
I want to know how to calculate complex mathematical problems
I want to know why algebra really does matter
But do you want me to tell you what I really want to know?
I want to know your voice
And all of your different tones that come with all of your different emotions
I want to know your eyes and all of the ways they see those same emotions
I want to know how it feels to have your head on my shoulder
And how your hair smells when you do
I want to know what it feels like to have your fingers locked in between mine
Mine locked in yours
I want to know what you worry about
So I can be behind you through it all
I want to know what your hopes and dreams are
So I can cheer you on as you reach for them and grab them
I even want to know what your face looks like when I make you mad
So I can know how good it feels to see your face when I make it up to you and you forgive me
Do you want to know what I want to know?
It's you
I want to know you

Imbalance and Inequality or What Happens When You Tell a Poet to "Go Write a Poem"

The only way to find out what that title means is to read the poem. Go on now, read it.

Imbalance and Inequality or What Happens When You Tell a Poet to "Go Write a Poem"

"Go write a poem" they tell me.

As if this is some great insult.

As if poets are some sort of second class,

Only here to write about or speak on pretty, delicate things.

But shit,

Life isn't always pretty.

Though it is always delicate.

So, if we're to take Thoreau's advice to "live deep and suck out all the marrow of life," 

We're going to find that life isn't always easy.

That wine can sometimes give us horrible headaches,

And reminders of what that sad, sad song said about roses.

"Go write a poem" they say.

Oh, I will.

It'll be a poem about how I won't be silenced when I speak out against racism,

A poem that clearly says that even though it's true that all lives matter,

It needs to be said that black lives matter too.

Because as inclusive as the word "all" is supposed to mean,

It has became empty rhetoric, at best,

At worst, used only to dismiss and demean the issues others face every day.

I'll write that poem.

I'll write a poem.

A poem that loudly says that men don't have the monopoly on intelligence,

That mansplaining,

Or attacking a woman's gender,

Doesn't put a guy in first place.

It actually exposes a fear of intelligent women. 

We can't just criticize ideas can we?

Yeah, I'll write a poem.

A poem about how "gay isn't synonymous with "stupid."

Or that equating anyone who's gay as the lesser only brings the aggressor lower.

Not the target.

We don't choose who we love,

But we do choose how we treat each other.

"Go write a poem."

The last cry of someone so insecure,

So fragile,

So helpless,

So out of words.

"Go write a poem."

What exactly do you do?

Are you more qualified somehow?

Go write a poem?

Well, I did.

I wrote a poem.

What are you going to do?

Comet

What can I say about the "you" of this poem? She's a beautiful soul and one of my most favorite on the planet. I love that she's part of my world and that I'm a part of hers.


Comet

I look up often.
Especially to the sky.
I have no grudge with the clouds,
But I prefer the night sky.
The night sky has always grounded me.
The gentle light of the countless stars,
To finding constellations,
To drawing my own shapes.
The night sky.
For the simple joy of just looking.
From time to time there's more to see;
Shooting stars,
Satellites,
The International Space Station,
Planets,
And comets.
This, is how I see you.
You are a comet.
Comets aren't always in view,
Though NASA knows where they are.
You, my comet, though I don't always see you,
I know where you are.
Even when you're in other ends of the galaxy.
This is why, when you come into my sky,
I make sure to look up.
Because I know your time in my sky isn't like that of the stars.
Or the moon even.
You do as comets do.
You light up my sky when you come by.
And though the time shared isn't constant
The intrigue and energy is.
I'm not selfish enough to think you belong to my sky,
Though I'm blessed to know you're there.
So I always look forward to seeing you again.
Knowing that some of your light is for me,
I'll keep looking up,
Smiling and knowing you'll be back,
That you'll be there,
In my sky again.

for Christa