Falling silent
Obviously I have a lot to say. Otherwise I probably would not be blogging, or teaching, and, even, writing books. And yet, lately, there are more and more moments when I find that I have nothing to say. It could be an aging thing. As I get older, the more I realize that talking about something is unnecessary. There is a kind of wisdom, an acceptance that nothing will change from speaking about it. In fact, speaking often sounds as if I only want to hear my own voice. Sometimes, I just have to accept that systems, people, society, individuals are not ready for change. And within me I fall silent and just simply walk away. A little sad, empty or disappointed. But, with a sigh of, "Oh well." When I was young I would passionately debate and coerce until it was as if I fell in a crumpled heap at the base of an impenetrable wall, energy depleted, anguished and despairing, and then would rise up and run away in the opposite direction blaming myself all the way.
Now, I fall silent and watch and listen.
At a personal level, I have come to accept that those closest to me are who they are and there is pretty much nothing I can do to change them. And so I navigate a way to be together that is comfortable and safe for me. When it becomes uncomfortable or unsafe, I move on quietly inside myself, and "do my own thing."
At a political level? Well. Good grief. This is a nation that elected George Bush twice, and has spent a month dissecting Jeremiah Wright and humiliating Barack Obama. This nation will probably elect the Clinton machine or McCain because racism is deep and strong, might is right, and the end justifies the means.
In the past, I left behind the countries whose governmental policies were antithetical to my beliefs and attitudes. Each nineteen years, in fact. Now, I feel, there is no where for me to go. So I choose to journey deeper within my self. Watching, listening and wondering.
This country is not yet ready for an African American President because people cannot hear what Barack Obama is saying as long as his skin color and name are "other." And the nation is not ready for a woman President, because Clinton’s behaviors and words are not of a woman, but bespeak the language of Patriarchy: dominance, privilege and power at all costs. I hear the TV anchors cheering and whooping and hollering as she downs a whiskey in the bar just like a "guy." Everyone is so proud of how she has been vetted and what she has learned about politics. She is being patted on the back because she seems more and more like the old Boy’s club every day.
I fall silent. I watch and listen as Hillary Clinton represents everything I despise about the Patriarchal system.
The nation is not ready for a woman President. Even though so many women out there, are fooled, gate-keepers of Patriarchy themselves, socialized to believe in its system, cheering her on instead of steering her away towards compassion and interdependence.
The nation is not ready for Obama’s quiet dignity, and the peace mongering that he offers, measuring his words, embodying strength, intelligence, compassion and humility. Instead we try to force him to look and sound like the harshest words of Jeremiah Wright so that we can type cast and stereotype him into what we believe African American men are all about.
I fall silent and watch and listen. And then, in the end, I come to this private and yet oh so public, space and write about it. So that I might see my words in black and white, release them, from my saddened, weary, and accepting (resigned?) soul – and share them, as one might share a heavy burden, with whoever cares to stop by and read.
Obviously I have a lot to say. Lately, though, slowly but surely, I am becoming silent.
… And then I wander over to Time Goes By and find this brilliant piece by Jon Stewart, which fits as a "delicious" conclusion to my post. Indeed, he says it best: "Be afraid, America:"
http://www.thedailyshow.com/sitewide/video_player/view/default/swf.jhtml
tamarjacobson 