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As if I'm not narcissistic enough, I've decided to take a whole bunch of self-portraits, inspired by the fine folks at the Mirror Project. But no pics yet.
27 June 2001
"In Europe and her Israeli homeland, Dana International is a teen idol. She has five hit albums behind her and has won a panoply of awards. Her singles go platinum; school kids sing her songs. She's played the Kremlin and been courted by the president of Ukraine.
Saturday at Gay Pride Weekend's "ReUnion @ City Hall," International descended the staircase for her U.S. debut to the beat of "Diva," the song that won her the 1998 European Song Contest. The crowd cheered, danced madly and sang along. Ravishing in a flowing gown that left little of her perfect form to the imagination, the petite, sensual dance-floor diva was every inch the superstar belle of the ball."
After reading this morn's Chron, I really regret not going to the Civic Center festivities on Sunday, and especially regret missing Dana International!
27 June 2001
A virus worse than HIV is ignorance. It's obvious in many places, subtle in many more. But nothing subtle here...from this morning's Chronicle this report from the United Nations General Assembly special session on AIDS by Sabin Russell:
""AIDS can no longer do its deadly work in the dark," said U.N. Secretary- General Kofi Annan of Ghana, pleading for cooperation before an audience of 2,000 delegates and observers. "The world has started to wake up."
He also warned that the world cannot deal with AIDS "by making moral judgments, or refusing to face unpleasant facts -- and still less by stigmatizing those who are infected and making out that it is all their fault."
The three-day meeting was called to build global consensus and a new battle plan against a 20-year-old epidemic. But the language of science and medicine quickly clashed with the language of diplomacy in the storied U.N. hall, where 189 nations of vastly different size, wealth and cultures meet and often disagree.
Delegates of Islamic countries objected to the inclusion of a gay woman from a San Francisco human rights organization on a list of speakers scheduled to address a panel today.
...the fate of the conference appeared to hang in the balance as delegates from Egypt, Malaysia, Pakistan and other predominantly Muslim nations raised procedural objections requiring a rare casting of votes in a process typically run by consensus. In the end, the panel list including Karyn Kaplan of the International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission was approved 62-0, but with 30 delegates abstaining."
26 June 2001
Mentally I "feel" sort of hung over today. Last night's session with T seemed something of a bust to me. I'd been reading some stuff on Lacan and had gotten somewhat excited by some thoughts and associations that came up for me in the reading. That does not translate however into an ability to articulate those thoughts and associations in a coherent way. Nooooooooooooo...all is chaos...or was chaos, that is, when I tried to talk. All my tentativeness came forward, I'm wasting her time...I'm wasting my time...blah, blah, blah. T asked me why (or was it "if") I felt I needed to be prepared for our sessions. She asked me why every time she asks about my feelings I answer with what I'm thinking. No answers. Neither last night or this morning.
Still reading the book on Lacan...and the Sherry Turkle...and the Norman Mailer...and a new acquisition, "The Woman I Was Not Born To Be", and somewhat inspired by my colleague TLC who will be an intern in a Jungian clinic come August, I started upon Anthony Stevens' book, "On Jung".
26 June 2001
I managed to pull myself over to the Pride Parade yesterday. Didn't make it to the previous night's Dyke March nor did I wander down to Civic Center yesterday. Just too much work to do with the close out of the fiscal year. Boo hoo! But I have therapy tonight with T and I've been reading through some writings about Lacan's work that have triggered some insightful thoughts, fleeting tho' they be.
25 June 2001
"When preoperative transsexual Josephine Perez, 21, exited her homeless shelter on Wards Island on the evening of Friday, May 11, she was wearing a short skirt that fluttered around her knees and a shimmery silver-colored blouse. Fuchsia lipstick freshly applied, Perez says she was feeling good, happy to be going to Manhattan to hang out with friends. In hindsight she admits that perhaps wearing a skirt wasn't the best idea—but even though Perez was staying in a men-only homeless shelter, she couldn't have known she was about to be raped.
Perez, who's been in and out of homeless shelters since she was 15, was sent to an all-male facility by the city's Human Resources Administration (HRA) because even though she dresses and identifies as a woman, she was born Joseph Perez, a biological male, and her official identification lists her as male. Perez can't afford the surgery that would bring her sex into alignment with her gender identity, nor can she afford the hormone treatments that would give her breasts and slow the growth of facial hair. To most people, Perez is a five-foot-eight, 140-pound feminine-looking man who likes to wear women's clothing. But to Perez, she's a woman trapped in a man's body."
From the Village Voice this article by Ginger Adams Otis highlights the absence of civil rights and common decency towards those who blur or cross the "official" gender line.
I'm sure that the NYPD is not the only institution in our society that would mightily benefit from a healthy infusion of gender sanity. To start with, perhaps the powers that be could purchase a few copies of this book.
For those - like moi - who would like to know, this article in the International Journal of Transgenderism, attempts to answer the question "Who put the "Trans" in Transgender?"
From a link on that incredibly rich resource which is Ethel the Blog I found this useful Glossary of Transgender Terms. Good for clued and clueless alike.
Of course tg folks are not the only ones to experience the tragedy of other folks ill-intended ignorance. And not all tragedies are caused by ill-intentions. Sometimes they happen because people can't think of - or don't know of - any other way to proceed.
Witness this recent news item from the Chronicle:
"...a vocational student with a 4.0 grade point average, had struggled with mental illness since he was 5 years old.
On Wednesday, the 23-year-old suffered a final breakdown during a late- night screening of "Swordfish" at the Sony Metreon theaters at Fourth and Mission streets in San Francisco. After disrupting the movie and threatening police officers with a knife, he was shot and killed."
15 June 2001
Today's the grand daughter's graduation from elementary school, even though Friday's her actual last day at school. Seems like just the other day that she was starting kindergarten. Whoosh! It's that old time flies thing, again. And it's almost time for Pride week. Darn! I only managed to get tickets for one film at the film festival. The others on the list that DK and I had were sold out! Drat!
The other thing about Pride week - specifically Pride weekend - is that I have no one to hang out with Saturday or Sunday. Whine! Whine! My other usual suspects are either otherwise engaged or they "don't go to the parade anymore". Hmmmm...maybe I can convince the grand daughter to go and cheer on the "Dyke March"? DK and I did that last year and I found it to be the most fun, inspiring event that whole weekend.
Okay. Enough whining about my lack of social graces. I'm enjoying the Sherry Turkle book, reflecting again on how useful it is for me in my own therapy to read about therapy, both theory and practise. It helps give me a framework for reflection on my own issues. And yes darlings, I have more issues than just what cute outfit to wear to the Pride Parade.
13 June 2001
Well, I didn't have to report for Jury Duty on Friday. And after all that angsting about it! Except for hanging out with the grand daughter on Saturday, I mostly spent the weekend trying to catch up on work. What an impossible concept! DK came by on Saturday and tried to get the new HP printer going. Alas, the same old behavior presented itself, so I finally broke down and emailed tech support. Maybe it's as simple as updating the drivers?
Saturday evening the grand daughter went over to visit with the neighbours, so I got use of her VCR and watched Peter Sellers in "The Party" and Jean Harlow in "Bombshell". I had almost forgotten what a pleasure it is watching Harlow. And, oh! Those eyebrows!
I also put Andrew Solomon's tome on depression aside for the moment and picked up Sherry Turkle's "Psychoanalytic Politics". Another one of those books that I've been meaning to read.
11 June 2001
I may have to go in for Jury Duty tomorrow. Or I may not. I have to call in the late morning to find out if I have to show up in Martinez at 1 pm. The only particularly onerous thing is that since I don't drive (everyone is safer for that fact!)I'll have to be on my way before the earliest time I can call to check on whether I have to go in the first place! Hopefully...
Last night's session with T stirred some thoughts. My old trusted tools, glibness and deflection by humour were on display, and of course T was duty bound to call me on my use of them. Sometimes I feel I'm living the words of that old Jefferson Airplane song..."I don't know where I'm going... I don't know where I'm been..." Actually it was a Fred Neil song that they covered and I'm not so sure about my remembrance of the lyrics. Wiser minds than I would know.
It was useful for me to talk through with her some of the training we're trying to do about sexism and hetrosexism at work. I think my expectations for this training are at once too high and too low and as a result I feel stuck somewhere in the middle. But the middle is where nothing happens. It seems that there are too few of us at work who are "out" and we lack a certain critical mass to approach these issues on the scale that we would like... and with the level of safety that we would like to have. Still...the alternative would probably equal inaction and that is just unacceptable. And I am heartened by the idea to enlarge the planning group, expanding it to include some friends that we've worked with in the past. So we'll move forward, but not without some trepidation.
I think the thing to avoid, however, is having those of us who are lesbian, gay, tg, queer, be the ones on display. I think that where some of the fear factor comes from. Like I'm here for your edification....mmmm... I think not sweetie. Perhaps I don't mind being in a box, perhaps I do...the important thing in this instance is that I get to choose the box I'm in. Or if I want to be in a box at all.
7 June 2001
At some point I need to write a little more about Tobias Wolff's "In Pharaoh's Army", or at least sample a few choice quotes, but in the meanwhile I am starting a serious flirtation with Andrew Solomon's new tome on depression, "The Noonday Demon". It's a massive thing, so it's sure to be a long drawn out dance between us. I might take a short break, however,in order to read his 1998 New Yorker article, "Anatomy of Melancholy".
...and from the Everyday Zen Foundation, an account of one practitioner's engagement with her own depression.
1 June 2001
I can't believe that June is here, but it is. Thankfully, the fog rolled in last night, as its been too darn hot! Work is piled up, Mr. Dylan's playing, and I'm wondering how to bring some semblance of order out of my chaos.
Yesterday, the little grand turned six, the same day that Clint Eastwood turned 71. Tomorrow I'm due to work a few hours in the morning then, perhaps, take the grand-daughter out bra shopping and to the new Martin Lawrence film. Or maybe we'll go see "Moulin Rouge".
I also have to pick some films to see for the upcoming film festival, as tickets for non-Frameline members go on sale today.
1 June 2001
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