An Open Letter to my (Republican) Father

I will start by saying that I do not believe in political coercion. I know there will always be people who do not have the same politics as I do, but I can't continue pretending that this issue doesn't matter to me.

Dad,

I love you, and I respect your right to your own political beliefs. I get that you are, for the most part, a fiscal conservative and socially liberal, and I think that is fine. I even agree with you on some things, though admittedly most political policies are not those things. The problem that I have is that I am a lesbian. A young lesbian woman with a long, hopefully happy life in front of her, which you have graciously and willingly provided.

Let me tell you a few things about the candidate I'm pretty sure you're voting for. Perhaps you know these things already, but I think it can be easy to write off his conservatism because he was governor of Massachusetts.

He doesn't think employers should be held accountable for firing me solely on the basis of my sexuality, which I would hope you find a little uncomfortable, since you'd like me to have a job and support myself. When he was governor of the "liberal gay paradise", Massachusetts, he supported an amendment to their constitution that would ban gay marriage, which deeply troubles me. He also supported the Federal Marriage amendment, which would have defined marriage federally as between one man and one woman.

Now, I don't frequently discuss such things with you, but I'd like to get married one day. I know I don't seem like that type of little girl, prancing around, imagining her perfect wedding, but considering my options right now, I can only imagine moving abroad or having a destination wedding. If Romney were in charge of the LGBT issues (and you would like him to have at least four years to change my life), perhaps my only option would be to reside in a foreign country, so that I would know my partner could visit me in the hospital, I could be covered under her insurance (because let's face it, I want a career in the arts, the only way I could afford health insurance would be if she had it), and I could easily start a family, knowing even if she is the biological mother, I would still have the same access to my children in the case of her death, or the dissolution of our marriage. Domestic partnership isn't the same. I hope you wouldn't try to tell me that.

Speaking of children, if I were to have any, I'd be lucky to be able to adopt or even have my name put on my child's birth certificate, if my partner was the biological parent, because Romney doesn't think gay people make suitable parents. Could you imagine not being able to legally acknowledge me as your child? Perhaps right now you'd like to, but in all seriousness, in a critical situation, or even a less than critical situation, it's necessary to have the legal documentation of parenthood.

Really, what this all comes down to is that Romney doesn't see me as a human being. To him, I must be something less, because I wouldn't be legally equal to you, to Mom, or to any heterosexual. Ryan is much of the same, if not worse. The ticket is blatant in its homophobia.

Honestly, I try not to think this way, but it seems like by voting for Romney you're telling me my relationships will never mean as much as yours, that I shouldn't have children, and that I don't deserve protection from discrimination.

You will bring up that there are other issues worth considering, like the GDP and revenues, simplifying the tax code, domestic and foreign policy.

This is why I wonder. Shouldn't your family be more important to you? If I had a chance to possibly (note that this is not a sure thing) change the country's economy for the better, but it came at the cost of your, as a person, right to vote, surely you would expect me to value your civil liberties more? Yes, four years can change a lot about the economy, but it can change an awful lot more about the way I could be allowed to lead my life. Two Supreme Court justices are probably going to change, soon, and it so happens that the Prop. 8 case, which you proudly informed me you voted no on, will be heard soon. Imagine two conservative justices then deciding that my future marriage was unconstitutional. That's not unlikely, it's frightening.

The reason that the legal discrimination against homosexuality continues is at least in some part due to the fact that people like you do not consider it a 'voting' issue. Yes, you aren't against gay marriage, but if a candidate says that they are, it doesn't affect you enough to change your vote.

Shouldn't it, though? It does affect you, directly. I am your child. Voting for someone who would gladly relegate me to second class citizenship is something I can no longer brush aside. You could send a message to your party that they are on the wrong side of this issue. You don't have to vote Democrat. Just don't vote for a party whose platform includes this. It sickens me, and it should sicken you.

Preserving and Protecting Traditional Marriage  (Top)

The institution of marriage is the foundation of civil society. Its success as an institution will determine our success as a nation. It has been proven by both experience and endless social science studies that traditional marriage is best for children. Children raised in intact married families are more likely to attend college, are physically and emotionally healthier, are less likely to use drugs or alcohol, engage in crime, or get pregnant outside of marriage. The success of marriage directly impacts the economic well-being of individuals. Furthermore, the future of marriage affects freedom. The lack of family formation not only leads to more government costs, but also to more government control over the lives of its citizens in all aspects. We recognize and honor the courageous efforts of those who bear the many burdens of parenting alone, even as we believe that marriage, the union of one man and one woman must be upheld as the national standard, a goal to stand for, encourage, and promote through laws governing marriage. We embrace the principle that all Americans should be treated with respect and dignity.

I hope you don't think I will feel like I have been treated with 'respect and dignity' if you let the Republican Party continue to eschew discrimination against me. I hope you think I am just as capable of raising children, of having a family, of loving others.

I hope you also know that I do not intend to inflict guilt. I merely have been reflecting on this troubling issue for a long time, and it truly bothers me that you cannot see how important this is.

With the added knowledge that as a resident of California, your vote for Romney is hardly counted anyway, why vote for someone, and someone's party, who would try so hard to take away so much from me?

Change is one person at a time.

I love you,

Your (more than just a lesbian) daughter.

Tattoos

I often get asked why I got my tattoos, whether it be to inquire as to what my tattoos mean or to determine why I would permanently mark my flesh, and I sometimes wonder if I really need to justify myself.

Very few things in life are 'sure', and certainly most are impermanent. The one thing that you really have with you as long as you live is you. Maybe I want more things that I get to carry with me forever.

Really, though, memories are fleeting, but I find some of them important enough to cherish forever. I guess some people would be satisfied by writing it down, but there's something kind of cathartic about having an hour, or a few hours, of numb tingling as you really reflect on why you chose that particular thing to live with you. My first tattoo commemorates my grandmother, but in a way that most people would not get. It's a memory I have, of her pointing out birds to me. For whatever reason, her identifying a red-winged blackbird to me stayed in the back of my head for years, but the idea of losing the memory was much more frightening than attaching it to me 'permanently'.

People talk about your body being 'your temple', but I think if you had a temple without any personal touches it would be kind of vacant. I don't necessarily encourage anyone to get any tattoo, because yes, your body is precious, and regrettably, people will judge you, but if what you want to get feels important, interesting, or just worth the money, why not?

Is it necessary to really care what it's going to look like when you're 70? I can't imagine most of my skin is going to look that great, so why would one patch having blurred color upset me any more than having signs of age? Memories blur and distort over time as well.

Some people also argue that because our preferences change over time, a tattoo you might initially like will become a reminder of your terrible taste as a teenager or young adult. I see it differently, however, because I think if you choose your tattoo carefully, or even poorly, you could look at it instead as a reminder of a different time in your life, a celebration of youthful joy.

Clearly this can't really apply to 'gang' tattoos, but if you grow to regret them (which may be a good thing), it could teach you to be more careful and perhaps consider the choices you make in the future.

As it is, I don't imagine ever being sad or regretting my tattoos, because they have become a part of me, and have taught me to cherish my memories and commemorate their importance permanently. I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

Bite-Size Show Reviews

Since arriving in London, I have seen seven shows, five of which were straight plays, one was a musical, and one was comedy, and I have yet to really write about any of them. Regrettably some of these won't be useful, because the shows have already closed, but I'll talk about them anyway, but only two at a time. I'm lazy like that.

The first two:


Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, starring Imelda Staunton and Michael Ball.
(This show closed September 22nd)

One of the more popular works of Sondheim's oeuvre gets a nice facelift in Jonathan Kent's version of the chilling stage musical, complete with a new set design by Anthony Ward. Set in 1920's London, and featuring an onstage "overseer", if you will, the production felt very much inspired by the original Harold Prince incarnation, but the slightly industrial feel lent an air of scientific observation to the show that felt very appropriate. The new set also abandoned the rotating box in favor of different platforms that wheeled in and out, which felt effective, though very large scale. Imelda Staunton tripped up in the beginning, vocally, but quickly recovered to a fantastic performance through the rest of the show. Michael Ball's tenor was somewhat disappointingly thin, but his sneer and impeccable acting choices made up for it. Performances from the rest of the cast were solid, though I was unhappy with James McConville's Toby, both in acting and in song, as he remained off-pitch most of the night. Overall, however, a fantastic show, which left most of what worked in the original alone, and added some interesting new choices. 4.5 stars out of 5.

Our Boys, A Play by Jonathan Lewis, with Arthur Darvill, Laurence Fox, and Matthew Lewis.
(Tickets available until December 15th)

The West End debut of Our Boys is rather star-studded, but Jonathan Lewis' play is clearly shines in this production, which brings out touching performances from all its actors. I was particularly impressed by the work of Cian Barry and Lewis Reeves, who presented solid character and excellent emotional range. David Grindley directed a funny, occasionally touching, and altogether very firm production. It's certainly pleasant to watch, and I imagine it will attract many fans of Doctor Who, Harry Potter, and Lewis, who will probably go away pleased. 3 stars out of 5.


Other than seeing lots of theatre, I've also been exploring the fun of cooking for myself (not sarcasm, I swear), which includes making curries, oven roasting pears, fajitas, homemade guacamole, and stir-frying like it's my job. Every now and then I also go to class and do homework, as well, but hey, life of a student.

Fiction: Music

      Finger after finger danced along the white and black, pounding a staccato melody that haunted the room. There was a small bead of sweat gathering at her right temple, slowly beginning its descent along the line of her jaw. Teeth clenched in anticipation of a passage and then relaxed as it flew past, drifting on the waves of sound into the rafters. Lights were shining along the gleaming, angular sides of black and reflecting colors not unlike the mood of the piece. Time crept through as if burdened by some remembered dream. Slamming through the fog of her trance-like expression came the final chords, hammering the end. The hall was caressed by the echoing notes until silence settled over the seats. Her foot slowly lifted in sync with her fingers, until there was no contact left. A single tear welled, and was quickly wiped away.

Regrets

One thing I was reflecting on earlier is that I have a tendency to replay moments and scenarios in my head and imagine how I would do them differently. This is sometimes helpful, as it helps me see who I wish to become and how I want to interact with the world, but it can also just serve to point out things I regret.

Regret is very interesting to me, because I think it implies a lack of satisfaction for where we currently are. Before I start the process of guilt and remorse, or just a bit of kicking myself, I try to remember that I wouldn't be the person I am today without making the choices I'd made in the past.

To interject a bit of why I shouldn't regret the choices I've made, I have a pretty awesome life right now. I have friends, and an active social life, I live in London, I study drama at one of the best schools for drama in the world, and I'm able to think critically about social and political issues. The regrets, however, still persist, but the ache is dulled quite a bit.

I think one of the things I regret the most is how I tend to disrespect myself and my feelings. Far from finding this to be depressing, I think of it instead as a tool to engage in changing the things about my psyche that lead to making that kind of behavior standard. Perhaps regret really is just another way to create positivity and foster important reevaluations of our position in life, and we should be grateful that we regret.

In the spirit of proving regret is useful, I will publish some poetry, because one of the things I wish I had done is produce creative writing more regularly.

The whisper of you is like a shadow
On the memories of my future
Crawling slowly over the terrain
Giving relief to the bright blindness of inexperience

I wonder how I could have changed
Created something beyond the petty quarrels
Broken promises
Missed opportunities
But I think they might have been right to say
If it was meant to be there would be no obstacles

Nothing is nothing, in that way, but nothing
Can be something beyond
Past our misjudged comments and
Empty words and accidents

A small green shoot spreads leaves upward
Basks in the sunlight of a grin
Flourishes as it expands and
Bursts into being

Only the choice gives hint at reality,
I am not my mind's tenant, forced to remember
The soft caress of recollected wrongs
Slips away on the peace of being free

Success

As a highly motivated person, I think the true secret to success is dedication. I'm sitting here not wanting to write any of this because I'm not dedicated to my own thoughts. It's a frequent struggle for me, being so driven, to watch many of my projects slip by the wayside because I'm just not willing to struggle with them for long enough to see them succeed.

I think in giving up one is technically failing to a much greater extent than if they give a full effort and do not achieve what they set out to. Perhaps this is why success is so difficult, at least at a finite level. In order to succeed you have to be willing to fail at full effort, which makes you incredibly vulnerable.

I'm not good at vulnerability. I protect myself in a plethora of ways, and it's not the best. I think that Brene Brown has the right idea:



So maybe it's the case that in order to be successful and willing to try, you really have to be willing to fail, in whatever way that means to you.

I think for me, failing would be to give up on expressing myself merely because only a few people will ever read what I have to say. Perhaps it's fear of the unknown, of loneliness, of change, even, that can make us so unwilling to expose ourselves to others, but if it was easy to bare everything and open up to others, it would no longer be as unique, special, or powerful when it does happen.

Maybe my previous definition of success needs to be revised. I think now I would say that success is to do what you love and what you desire to do, learning to embrace fear and worry as just another piece of the puzzle.

Scriptacular

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Monday Blues

I apologize. I was going to post yesterday, but I was not highly productive, other than a gym visit and physically going to class.

I've decided, however, to post twice to make up for it today. The first is a little sample of some of the playwriting I do, and the next post is going to be another opinion piece. So to introduce, I'll give the summary, and then a scene. I wrote this a while back, but I've only written a few scenes.

Title: ”Treasured”

This plays centers around a young woman, Beth, whose decrease of control in her own life has lead her to become obsessive in her practicing of the piano. She decides she must perform “Gaspard de la Nuit” by Ravel at her next recital. The play itself echoes the piece, which is structured in three movements: Ondine, Le gibet, and Scarbo.Ondine, in Ravel’s work, is inspired by the oneiric tale of a water fairy that is almost akin to a siren. For Beth, this seduction occurs when she first hears the piece performed, quite accidentally, while listening to a classical radio station. Enamored by its daunting technicality and fluid expressionism, she feels its difficulty will impress anyone who listens to her playing. In the first act, Beth has a confrontation with her mother, who is disappointed in the report card that has just been mailed home. Later that evening, at the dinner table, her parents continually harp on Beth about the impracticality of her music, the B’s on her report card, and their perceptions of her as being lazy and unmotivated. Throughout the first act she is in conflict with them, her teachers, and friends, and as she finally retreats to her room and turns on the radio at the close of the third act, “Ondine” begins to play.         
The second movement of the piece, “Le gibet”, is the setting of an observer viewing the outside of the city, and a hanged man. Here in the play, it is the sealing of fate after she buys the sheet music and begins to practice. For a while, life continues as usual, but gradually, as her need increases, her friends begin to notice her drawing away. Eventually her parents also try to interrupt her practicing by sending her to a therapist, though it is unclear whether they do this because they are concerned for their daughter or irritated by the constant piano playing. Beth, as she begins to practice upwards of eight hours a day, is seen skipping school and meals. Her frustration at her perceived lack of progress grows greater, and at the end of the second act, she seems to decide to discontinue.        

The third movement, “Scarbo”, centers around a demon that haunts the observer, creating nightmares and generally causing mischief. Though Beth has attempted to stop playing the piece, her mind and body won’t let her. Plagued by nightmares and phantom twitches of her fingers, she returns to the keyboard, returning to her practice schedule. Though her parents attempt to stop her, she lashes out at them, confronting their hypocrisy and stuck ways of thinking, though she doesn’t seem to truly believe this herself. Beth repeatedly asserts to her piano teacher and friends that her rendition is just not good enough, and that her playing is awful, and it is somewhat akin to anorexia- as Beth gets better and better, she sees herself as worse and worse and practices with a frenzy that seems almost mad. At the night of her recital, she nearly refuses to go on, having nothing else prepared, but her teacher convinces her to play. As she performs the piece perfectly, the recital audience is entranced, unable to fully comprehend the kind of magic they are witnessing. Spellbound, they do not applaud, and Beth deflates, entirely crushed by this seeming dismissal of her performance. The act ends as the audience onstage sits in silence.

Act 2, Scene 3

        Beth is in a therapist’s office. She sits on a couch, while the therapist sits in front
        of a desk in a somewhat imposing leather swivel chair. The therapist is holding         
        a yellow legal pad and pencil.

THERAPIST: So your mother tells me you’ve been playing a lot of piano lately.

BETH: Is that what she said? Or was it something more like (in a cruel imitation of her mother) “She won’t stop practicing, she’s driving me crazy!”?

THERAPIST: All she said to me was that you’ve been practicing for extended periods of time. Why are you doing that?

BETH: (dryly) Practicing? Well, it makes perfect. And I’ve just got to be perfect, right?

THERAPIST: Do you think you need to be perfect?

BETH: No one’s perfect.

THERAPIST: That doesn’t stop you from wanting it though, does it?

BETH: Maybe.

THERAPIST: So what are you practicing?

BETH: Gaspard de la Nuit. It’s a piece by Ravel. For my recital.

THERAPIST: When is your recital?

BETH: Two months from Friday.

THERAPIST: That seems like a ways away to be practicing so diligently.

BETH: It’s not. This piece- it’s. Well, it’s different. More difficult than anything else I’ve ever played.

THERAPIST: Tell me about it.

BETH: Well, I first heard it a month ago, on the radio. I was entranced, I guess. I bought the sheet music and then asked my piano teacher to help me learn it. He told me I just needed to practice it. So then I started practicing. A lot.

THERAPIST: How much is a lot?

BETH: Anywhere from 4 to 8 hours a day.

THERAPIST: On just that piece?

BETH: Well, I spend about 45 minutes on scales and technical studies, but the rest of the time it’s just on that piece, yes.

THERAPIST: Do you feel like you need to prove something? You seem to feel derisively about your mother’s opinion of your practicing.

BETH: She doesn’t like that I want to play piano. I know she hates that she let me get so many lessons, and has a piano in the house. She wishes I would study more and get better grades.

THERAPIST: Does that hurt you?

BETH: Playing piano is my passion. Aren’t parents supposed to want their children to pursue their passion?

THERAPIST: Ideally. But sometimes parents get confused. (after a long silence) Do you think playing this piece will help?

BETH: It’s so hard. I guess if I play it perfectly, they’d have to notice, right?

THERAPIST: Notice what?

BETH: Me. They have never noticed me. Except for when I irritate them.

THERAPIST: What makes you say that?

BETH: All they ever do is yell at me. “Beth, your report card came back, it was shameful!” “Beth, your room is a pigsty, clean it up!” “Beth, stop playing piano and go study!” I just want them to pay attention to something good for once.

THERAPIST: Have you talked to them about this?

BETH: No. It’s not exactly polite to tell your parents they’re awful at parenting.

THERAPIST: Well no, I mean, couldn’t you ask them to be more positive with you?

BETH: Why? I mean, what other kid has to ask for attention. I’m too old to cry and throw temper tantrums. I feel ashamed to have to ask. I’m just an imposition to them anyway.

THERAPIST: What makes you say that?

Alright, there you go. A sample of my "creative" writing. Hope this is interesting. Also, any feedback is highly appreciated.

Sunday Funday

I'm going to take a break from my regularly scheduled programming of political rants to instead discuss something a little lighter!

One thing I've noticed while writing is that I frequently talk about my experience being in America, and I relate my political opinions back to things there, but surprise, I live in London. To be fair, I've only "lived" here for three weeks so far, and then for three months when I was here last year, but I feel like most people in my situation might blog about where they live.

I find cities to be a fascinating cultural experiment, and London is certainly cross-cultural in many ways. Generally as a student of theatre, I suppose the thing I'm most drawn by is the artistic culture, but I've been having a blast just toeing the edge of all of the vast resources that living in a major metropolitan area offers.

London has over 1000 times the population of the town I'm from, and while there is a lot of urban sprawl here, the county I'm from is still rather sparsely populated. There is some theatre that happens, but it's pretty easy to see all of the local productions without going crazy. Here, I could never have enough time or money to possibly see every show, and rather than being intimidated, I'm just thrilled by the plethora of options I have at my feet. The phrase "the world is my oyster" comes to mind. Is that why they call them oyster cards? I've always kind of wondered.

I digress. In all honesty, I think it's kind of refreshing to know I always have something to do. This weekend I popped over to Camden Market just for the heck of it, and it was kind of fun to be able to just people watch for a while. I've also given myself London camouflage, since I got a very trendy haircut, and I feel less and less like a tourist and more and more like I've found a city I'd very much like to consider home.

Can I take a second to rave about the fact that their museums are free? How cool is that? If I decide one afternoon that I'm bored, I could hop on the easy-to-use and readily available public transportation and go to see rare artifacts and priceless works of art. Plus there's no guilt about not getting my money's worth, and thus feeling obligated to spend hours looking at items I'm only cursorily interested in. Neat. And the free health care isn't bad either, imagine that.

I do miss Mexican food though. At Camden, my curiosity was piqued by a food stall offering "fajitas", but you can tell by my use of punctuation that I wasn't highly impressed. The man who took my order asked if I was okay with "hot" food, and when I encouraged him to hit me with his best shot, he was fairly generous with Cholula. If you are familiar with Cholula, you may know it's not really spicy, if you're anything close to accustomed to spice. The next thing that worried me was the texture of what they called guacamole. It was more of an avocado dressing, somewhat similar in texture to ranch. The final straw was the lack of salsa. I may not be a true gourmand, being that I have only had limited years to develop my palate, but seriously? At least cut up some tomatos with cilantro and onion and pretend it's pico de gallo. The scandal. There were also no beans (either pinto or black) to be found in the stall, nor any spanish rice. I will have to risk trying a slightly nicer establishment next time, to see if the results are any better. We shall see, London, we shall see.  For now, curries and the large collection of foods baked in pastry will have to do.

Now that I mention it, though, those foods baked in pastry will be the bane of my existence. Why are sausage rolls, pasties, and pies all so damn tasty?

In any case, I have no idea if this post is anything close to interesting, but thanks for reading anyway!

P.S. If you ever want an "alternative lifestyle" haircut, or even just a haircut involving clippers in any fashion, check out the Barberette, Klara. Awesome work, as you can see.

Stigma

When I consider all of the things that make up my identity, I generally come up with an amalgamation of nerd, alternative, lesbian, atheist, liberal, and a whole bunch of things that cannot be qualified by a single word. I'm not against labeling myself, but I think that no one should have labels thrust upon them, nor should anyone change themselves to fit into a group, if it's not part of their natural growth as a person.

One label that I have a really, really hard time admitting to myself, and only a slightly less hard time admitting to others (hello, internet strangers!) is one that I tried to avoid for a long time. I still try to avoid it because of the stigma associated with any 'invisible' problem. That's my euphemistic way of saying I have a mental health disorder. It's something no one can see, and is frequently mistaken for the sufferer's personality.

There's a lot of misunderstanding surrounding mental health, and I'm not really qualified to speak to other people's experiences, but I know from personal experience that many people judge those afflicted with mental health disorders very harshly. People bandy about the phrase 'x must be shizophrenic' or 'y is so bipolar' when they clearly have zero understanding of the actual experiences people living with such disorders have. Lots of people joke about being 'so ADD' or having 'OCD' or any number of other popularly recognized social disorders.

I find this troubling. The psychiatric community assigns those diagnoses after long periods of study, after going through years of education, and exploring what other disorders or common behavioral issues the patient may have. It helps no one to self-diagnose, even in a humorous way. All it does is increase the misunderstanding that people have about what it is to live with a mental health problem. I'm one of the lucky ones, because my issues are fairly easy to hide, thus making my handicap, as it were, even less noticeable. There are lots of people who cannot avoid recognition, and I have watched, and even occasionally intervened, as they were harassed and mocked by "regular" people.

Mental illness is a serious issue that affects millions, but there is very little attempt made to understand or empathize with the plight of those who are afflicted. It's shocking when you consider the numbers- an estimated 26% of adult Americans suffer from a diagnosable mental illness, and about 6% have a serious mental illness. How can it be that when a quarter of the population is diagnosable there is so much stigma associated with having a diagnosis?

Maybe it's because we care too much about having, or not having labels. There is a sense of status associated with the labels we wander around with, and there is a loss of status when those labels have negative implications.

In the queer community, we talk about visibility as a way of promoting tolerance. I came out at a young age, even lept out of the closet, in some ways, and never really doubted myself. It has worked, being visible, to prove to others who may have held certain stereotypes about my lesbian label that I am, in fact, "normal" and worthy of respect. I wonder if it could be the same way for mental health disorders. If I stood up and proudly told everyone about my illness, explained what my life has been like (if they want to listen), and stopped hiding, and if others also did so, would it help?

I don't know. I've told my close friends, I occasionally tell my bosses and coworkers (if I feel it's necessary), and if asked, I wouldn't deny it, but I still feel like there is a part of me that cannot publicize my inner demons. Maybe it's because I don't want this particular label, or that I judge myself too harshly. Maybe it's also that I think there are some things that are hard to come to grips with for anyone, and they shouldn't have to announce their labels in order to receive acceptance and understanding.

Stop perpetuating the stigma of mental illness- it's pointless, and only shames the people who are afflicted. There's no stigma to be accepting and tolerant of differences, whether they be 'visible', or 'invisible', so perhaps it's time to turn over a new leaf.

On the Politics of Lies

Information rarely comes to us immediately. Even if we are eyewitnesses to an event, our backgrounds, the reactions of others, and our memories later can be affected by the method in which we remember or retell a story.

As a practitioner of theatre, it becomes easier to understand politics in terms of performance. Politicians have an objective (presumably to be elected, at this time of year), and their circumstances dictate that they should use any means necessary to get there. As such, their tactics largely center around lying, which is highly problematic for those voting.

The majority of people whom I have heard discuss the presidential debate have discussed that Romney seemed like a viable candidate at last, and his rhetoric was as effective as that used by Obama, if not more effective. While they both used half-truths and in some cases, blatant lies, sites like factcheck.org,  skewered Romney for being a 'serial exaggerator'. If this is what it takes to be President of the United States, there must be a reason.

The unfortunate truth is that the American public is at fault. The other unfortunate truth is that the American media machine is at fault, and can never not be at fault. Merely by choosing what is and is not newsworthy creates political bias from the top down, and the public feeds this negative feedback loop by eagerly appreciating aggressive lies. Until we move to a system of total information, which some may have thought was promised by the internet, we cannot have a political conversation without lies.

What's hard to comprehend, however, is that there can never be a world without bias. I am biased. You are biased. The various mediums in which any opinions or facts can be presented are biased. Later, when I click the publish button at the top of my editing page, this post will be 'live' on google, but it will only come up in the top of the results if it has been seen a large amount of times from various sites, or if I were to pay for the privilege. Additionally, even though I will post this on facebook, like the great social media giant encourages, this will only be seen by those online at the exact time I post, and only remain in the top of the newsfeed if many people 'like' or comment on the post. Google also alters results pages depending on location, as well as analytics it collects on you as an individual, so I am unlikely to get any results that are conservative, which is actually somewhat disappointing.

I think, however, that there is a distinct, tenable difference between lies and political bias. I may look at the world with an alternative viewpoint, with distinct opinions and experiences that shape the facts I receive, but I recognize this. When a politician lies, whether it is to protect the platform they are a part of or to further their own interests, it takes away from productive discourse.

It's part of why America is incredibly bi-partisan. Both parties get more caught up in defending the actions of their party than looking at the facts and examining results. Though much of the news has a bias, there are ways to glean information from statistics taken by non-partisan groups. At the very least, there must be a way to improve the situation, and honesty might actually be the best policy. It's frightening, especially when one realizes how little truth is floating around in the public eye, and how mediated our information has become, but not impossible.

I do not think we can ever give up bias, because humans love having opinions and beliefs. Where the bias end and lies begin may be solved in American politics at first by abandoning the lie that our country can never be more than a two-party system. Attack the media for only allowing two of the 411 candidates currently running for President to be heard, and vote for the candidate you agree with the most. Do not buy in to the fear-mongering and lies that are touted to make the American public believe it only has two choices.

Most importantly, vote. Presidential elections in America rarely result in a turnout of more than 55% of those eligible to vote, and have dipped below 50% before. This is pathetic. Apathy might seem like the logical reaction, but only by participating do we truly create change. Could you imagine if the 45-50% of eligible voters who either are disenfranchised, unmotivated,  or do not see where they fit in the bipartisan model suddenly stepped up and all voted for 'third' party candidates? Maybe I'm being idealistic, but I think that would be a massive sign for politicians that they cannot continue to get away with this.

Perhaps the introduction of more parties into the political system will inject a much needed sense of purpose, a sense of clarity, or at the very least, become a wake-up call to the two political parties who have coasted by on lies and deceit for so long.

And yes, I am biased, but I am not willfully informing those who do not agree with me that they are wrong. I am only encouraging the public to take back America.

Active Consent

"Well, you know how men are. They think 'No' means 'Yes', and 'Get lost' means 'Take me, I'm yours.'" -Meg, Disney's Hercules.

Clearly the issue of consent was one so universal it had become the subject of a one-liner in a children's movie, released in 1997. One would assume, then, that huge steps had been made to eradicate the style of thinking and behaving Meg so succinctly illustrates. It wouldn't be "humor" if it wasn't relatable, so therefor Disney writers were aware of the culture of consent at the time.

But 15 years later, it feels like not much has changed. We discuss rape and its punishment in terms of the victim. Rights are repeatedly taken away from women and men who suffer sexual assault, though most of the legislation suggested by the conservative party attacks women specifically. As Paul Ryan so kindly pointed out, "Rape is just another form of conception.", thus implying that a woman is worth nothing besides producing children. We hear comments like these from politicians, the people who are supposed to be more worthy to lead and make decisions than the masses.

There was, and still remains, a strong campaign to popularize the phrase "No means no.", but I posit that merely defining one method of refusal is not enough. Street harassers rarely evaluate the willingness of the woman to hear how "hot" she is, and sometimes a word is not the only way that someone could choose to "say no".

This is why I promote active consent, both in my own life and to my friends. Yes, it can be a little bit "unsexy" to ask for permission, in terms of what society has deemed attractive, but we all know that I am generally not pleased with what society finds appealing. What's much, much less attractive is not having consent. There's an article trending on my Facebook newsfeed regarding the famous "Kissing Sailor" photograph, and in the evidence presented, it's clear the nurse had no time to say no before the the sailor decided his happiness was more important than her consent. Sometimes when we are caught up in the excitement of a moment, things happen, but it's a cop-out of the highest order to suggest one cannot control their own actions under any irregular circumstances, such as being drunk or excited.

I know it can seem strange to other people to be "slow", because I have run into that issue as a practitioner of this method. My persona and image seems to be one of more dominance, rather than submission, and generally the women I have dated assume I will just do what I want to do when I want to do it. When I move only as slowly as is established, I am met with confusion, but it's simple enough to sit someone down and explain. Though it can be occasionally "frustrating" to move at a different pace than was originally expected, it is ultimately far more rewarding. It can also be very attractive to hear a partner ask for what they want and explain what they are comfortable with you doing, if it's phrased correctly.

By creating a more informed method of consent, hopefully we can avoid the pressure and stigma attached to saying "No". I find that even I think I owe someone physical reciprocity after going out to dinner, but that's very much not the case. Asking for a yes at every change in level of intimacy may seem droll, but I think it gives both parties time to think about what it is that they truly feel comfortable with. In the long run, it leads to deeper trust and understanding.

After all, the best thing to hear someone say is "Yes!"