So hold on to your outrage, make it count. Support the women and men around you who fight against patriarchy and discrimination every single day, not just this week.
Blog
Shut Up and Listen (also, Read).
Just back from two days at the Bay Area Book Festival in downtown Berkeley, where we bookended our time with the most brilliant panel yesterday of five authors of speculative and subversive fiction in which only *one* was a white dude (and the others covered a multiplicity and intersectionality of races, ethnicities, genders and sexualities), and ended today with an Egyptian transnational secular Muslim feminist speaking with a Bay Area African American feminist.
In between, we went to a panel of science nerds who write about cooking, linguistic nerds who are conlangers (those who construct languages) for shows like the Game of Thrones and the Expanse, wandered down Radical Row and talked revolutions, and made friends with bookshelves in the middle of the road. Bibliophile, activist, heaven.
While my brain is still processing and sedimenting all I learnt, I’ll leave you with a few brilliant lines from Harlem/Bay Area African American science fiction writer, Ayize Jama-Everett, who when asked how/if his speculative fiction is also subversive, said: “I’m a black man in America. Every thing I *do* is subversive… When I read about utopias, I ask: where are the black people? …Writing is both an act of lunacy and bravery. It’s blood on a page.”
And the final final word from the fabulous Mona Eltahawy, speaking to the equally fabulous Chinaka Hodge, to folks who think about ‘rescuing’ people from ‘over there’ and bringing them back ‘over here’, mistakenly thinking ‘over here’ is not equally (if differently) misogynistic, racist, xenophobic, homophobic… “We’re doing our own work ‘over there’. Work on your own ‘over here’… and don’t forget to shut up and listen”.
Yes, my brother, my sister. *mic drop*.
Aung San Suu Kyi and the day of democracy
“We have been struggling for democracy since 1988… We have suffered very much but now we see the results and the fruits of our suffering. It is a beautiful beginning.”
Aung San Suu Kyi and her National League of Democracy (NLD) party finally form the government in Burma/Myanmar. And while there are enormous struggles and questions ahead – including how she will respond to the ethnic minorities who have faced such violence and torture at the hands of the junta, and who have felt let down over the past few years at her relative silence on their situation – it’s worth pausing for a moment to reflect on the enormity of what has been achieved.
Suu Kyi was under house arrest for nearly 15 years till her release in 2010. There are 110 former political prisoners in the 390 candidates elected to both houses of Parliament, many of who spent over two decades in prison. The first time the NLD swept the polls was in 1990, with 81% of the seats. Last year, the NLD took 86% of the seats.
A few years ago, soon after Suu Kyi was released from house arrest, I was with a group of Burmese refugees in Thailand, and they talked about how they (in some ways, literally) worshipped her. For them, far away from their homes, their extended families, and their idol, the sense of betrayal felt greater. I gently pointed out that she was getting older (she’s now 69 years old), and that perhaps in order to gain political power for the NLD, she needed to tread carefully – and in a way that may have felt too much like a compromise to them. And so/yet, here we are. I’m not sure my friends thought they would see this in their lifetimes. I think of them in Chiang Mai, and on the borders between Burma and Thailand, and I hope they are celebrating this victory for justice. However complex and troubled the road ahead may be for Burma and Aung San Suu Kyi, may it be strewn with jasmines for today.
Gems from the Ocean
I’m ashamed to say I’ve only just discovered August Wilson, the Pulitzer Prize winning playwright known as the American Shakespeare. But what a way to discover him and his searing explorations of what it means to be black in America: through the stunning, gut-wrenching interpretation of his play Gem of the Ocean, currently playing at the Marin Theatre Company. Go see it, Bay Area peeps; you must.
Wilson is best known for his ten play cycle on the lives of African Americans in the 20th century, one for every decade. Gem of the Ocean is the first of the cycle, written second to last in 2003 (Wilson died in 2005). And for us, there were multiple performances on theatre night: the play itself, and then the responses of the predominantly white audience (AFAICT, we were one of two families of colour attending) that stayed for a Q&A session with cast and crew after.
Amongst the conversations with no clue: ‘I don’t understand where the spirituality of the original went…’ So Wilson uses seemingly Christian symbolism underwritten by Yoruba spirituality, which hybridised form dramaturg Omi Osun Joni L. Jones pops up so powerfully in her interpretation. In other words, it’s nothing but political and spiritual, just perhaps not your politics and your spirituality, Mr. White Theatre-goer.
The interpretation also breaks with the familiar idiom of ‘naturalistic’ theatre, which is how August Wilson is often played. Instead, it offers rhythm, beat, syncopation: jazz of word and gesture. Be prepared for its power, and for its getting under your skin. I found myself squirming in my seat, hardly able to sit still (such a no-no for a polite theatre-goer!).
But the best of the evening was the well-meaning road to hell: ‘I wish young black children could watch this play’… Yes, they should. I hope they do, and the theatre is doing its best to make it happen, with multiple matinee shows. But even more so, elite white people should watch this play. And not deflect the responsibility of thinking about it. Understand, as August Wilson says in the play, what black folks, people of colour, need for full citizenship in this country: “You gonna have to fight to get that. And time you get it, you be surprised how heavy it is.” (And yes, it echoes all that my Dalit and Adivasi friends are feeling right now too).
So thank you, Daniel Alexander Jones, Omi Osun Joni L. Jones, and the incredible cast and crew of the Gem of the Ocean. I can’t imagine Wilson being interpreted in any other way.
I’m back (aka the ‘Seven Year itch’)?
So seven years after I stopped blogging in 2009, I’m back on the blogosphere. There are many reasons for both the silence and the return, and I may explore them in subsequent posts. But for now, I recognise that my posts on Facebook undermine my own politics around proprietary platforms in which we are data, and (in a more pragmatic, and amused, sense) have grown in length and periodicity from the cryptic slightly-more-than-140-characters of my original and occasional posts. So be it. 🙂
Haiku for change
I recently had the opportunity to be part of a reflection process on the work we do as feminists, advocating for gender equality in development organisations. This was with an organisation called Gender at Work, an international knowledge network for gender equality; it’s a group I’ve been associated with since its founding in 2001, though I left them as Program Associate in 2007, when we moved to the Republic of Berkeley. It was such a joy being part of a space that incorporated the striving, thinking and doing of feminist praxis – with fabulous activists who embody that spirit – but it was also a joy (luckily) to reflect on where I am, both personally and professionally, these many years on. It must have something to do with – groan – the milestone of middle age/mid-evil-ness lurking round the corner. Still, at the end of the reflection, I wrote a haiku about change; I suppose it’s a birthday prezzie of sorts to myself.
Touched by the return,
I find my journey forward –
But some of me… stays.
Inner Laws: a performance in Delhi
Calling all Dilliwallas, and/or those in Delhi this weekend… I have to say, this is one of the funniest plays I have ever had the joy of performing in (and the fact that it is written by the Mother has almost nothing to do with it!). An unabashed delight to watch at one level, with undercurrents of a more subtle, dark humour of the kind I suffered through childhood. 🙂 Since I can’t be there, break a leg, folks. And break the bank for the Red Cross.
Calling in for Gaza
From my inbox this morning…
National Call-In Day for Gaza!
January 16, 2009
We designate Friday, January 16th as National Call-In Day for Gaza. Calling is quick, easy, and effective, and will take about 5-10 minutes. We need to keep the phones ringing non-stop for the duration of the day so that our message CAN NO LONGER BE IGNORED.
Contact in order of importance:
1) Call President-Elect Obama’s Transition Team at 202-540-3000.
Ask that President-Elect Obama and his team call for:
1) An immediate cease-fire.
2) An end to the blockade and siege of Gaza.
3) An immediate withdrawal from Gaza.
Be firm and polite and stress the fact that over a thousand people have died and thousands have been injured in Gaza, mainly civilians. This follows months of suffering under a severe blockade that has resulted in shortages of food, fuel and basic medical supplies. When calling, mention (UN Security Council Resolution 1860 that was adopted last week which calls for an immediate ceasefire and unimpeded humanitarian access.
2) Call your Representative at 202-224-3121. Ask how they voted on House Resolution 34 which passed overwhelmingly in the House last Friday, with 390 Representatives voting yes, 5 no, and 22 present. The resolution “recognizes Israel’s right to defend itself” and “reaffirms the United States’ strong support for Israel.”
If your Representative voted “no” or “present” on H.Res. 34, thank them and ask that they cosponsor Rep. Kucinich’s upcoming resolution.
(See: http://endtheoccupation.org/downloads/KUCINI_001_xml.pdf)
If your representative voted “yes” on H.Res. 34 state your disagreement with their vote and ask them to co-sponsor the Kucinich resolution.
3) Call your Senators at 202-224-3121 and assert your disagreement with their unanimous vote on Senate Resolution 10 and ask that they introduce a resolution in the Senate that is similar to Rep. Kucinich’s resolution in the House.
Please forward this to all your lists and personally contact 10 friends and urge them to make these calls to save lives in Gaza.
Change happens with numbers. That is how Obama became president and that is how we can bring a lasting peace and justice to the Palestinians. As people living in America, we control the discourse and the funding that has resulted in the present massacre in Gaza. Considering the fundamental role that we play in this political situation, our participation is the least we can do.
“The death of children is the death of innocence, and the death of innocence is the downfall of humanity.”
– Emine Erdogan, wife of Turkey’s Prime Minister, 1/10/09
For 2009: we refuse to be enemies?
What an annus horribilis 2008 was. Clinical depression of every kind: economic, political, personal. India was bombed repeatedly – and with precise geographical equity: north, south, east, west. I was in both Bangalore and Delhi over the summer, and missed the bombing of N block market by a couple of hours. Similar just-misses reported in from friends in Bombay, but the overall horror of it all goes far beyond close encounters of the worst kind. Between the escalation of rhetoric on the India-Pakistan front, and the egregious escalation of far more than rhetoric on the Israel-Palestine front, the new year feels shop-soiled and already ready for return. But since I have been accused of growing tendrils of Pollyanna-like optimism in the midst of utter despair, I leave you with an image from an India-Pakistan peace vigil I attended early last month, and a poem inspired by that, and this week’s protest against Israeli attacks on Gaza.
We refuse to be enemies.
We refuse to use your words, claim your politics,
accept your versions of history.
We will wear our anger like a shroud,
we will hold our defiance like a shield,
we will carry our compassion like a sword.
We refuse to be enemies.
We refuse to believe that hate is justified,
that peace is weak, that conflict is endless.
We will sing across the borders,
we will march across the divisions,
we will fly our peace like a flag.
We refuse to be enemies.
Rukawat ke liye khed hai
…or in other words, sorry for the interruption, and apologies for the month without posts. I was having trouble with the blogging software, and the resident techie wizard was busy with end-of-term-itis. It’s been a long hard winter of discontent and mute despair, in any case, with too many words raining down on me, and too few to articulate.