#swnyc

Rambling post that I may delete because of confidentiality reasons

Walking out in the middle of a Slutwalk meeting. I only wish we had done that a week earlier like we had planned to. Especially since that meeting a week prior was dominated by white people hijaking the meeting to make it all about them and how not-important the actually important issues were.

Honestly I should have left after that meeting two days before the walk. I was recently going through my notes from the meetings (I was pretty much the only person who went to every single meeting from the very first one till the walk out) and I had found my notes were angry about what was happening right from the start. My notes from the first ever meeting about who would speak especially convey my confusion about the very problematic thing I had gotten myself into. But I kept going. I kept participating. I mistakenly thought that I could change something with my presence.

But there, in my notes from two days before, was a disturbing side conversation I had with another organizer. 

One of the MCs, a WOC, had just declared that she would only speak at the rally if she was allowed to address the critiques of the march. The person sitting next to me scribbled in my notebook: "I feel really manipulated right now." I wrote back "Better manipulated than Silenced." there is a scribble where she began to respond but did not. I remember her giving me an angry look and moving seats. On the next page I wrote a rant about how much I hated everything happening in that room right then, how much I wanted to leave, but was too invested at that point.

The next day people were supposed to come to my apartment to make the front banner. (they never did BTW) I was already written in on all the permits as the lead front marshal. I was the security point person. I had materials at my apartment people had stored to bring down to the march. I was was a back up MC in case something went wrong (it did and I and the other back up person went on stage to close the rally). Already before the event happened and it all went so wrong I knew I should get out. I really did. I was so angry that I could not leave without causing the whole thing to crash and burn. And when it became clear that everything had indeed been wrong, that was when I heard about the walk out.

Less than one week after the march. That was when we first started planning it. And when the other camp in the room held that "talkback" many of the people who would later walk out sat together and passed our critiques to one another as notes. Up until that point we had thought we were alone in so many of our criticisms, but then we knew we were all on the same wavelength. That is how it was planned. As a group of angry organizers who were too fed up to keep working with the greater group. We would also meet outside meetings to vent to one another about what was happening, what we felt we could do to recover from it. As it is now, some of the members of my current political organization get triggered by the name "Slutwalk" alone, they feel so hurt and betrayed. 

And when we walked out, someone tried to pass it off as just a clique leaving (if we seemed that way it was because we felt safe with one another, in a way we didn't with others in the room) and an other person (who we all admire) then pointed out to them that almost all, almost all, POC were part of the walk out. Because somehow, somehow!, there was a collective case of not getting it. 

I will never regret being a part of the group that planned and executed that walk out. No, I am grateful. I am honored that those who felt marginalized in SWNYC meetings trusted me as an ally enough to include me in their plans. That we managed to do it, to stand up and tell that room that we could no longer participate in their problematic political discussions, that we had reached the end of our tolerance for bullshit. That we created a new organization, one that will hopefully actual center on what needs to be centered on (we have already hit some fairly major bumps, but I hope we will be able to work that out together). I am so proud of my found family. We made it through all of that together, and now we can begin to actually do the work that needs to be done to create a feminist organization we can be proud of.

So yeah. My eulogy for slutwalk is a gleeful one. Because while it is not yet fully dead, I do not regret seeing its end. I will never regret leaving it behind. My relation with that org had turned poisonous. I was crying almost every day because of just how.... awful the whole thing was.

Why?

Why did we have to have a conversation about what PGPs are at every meeting? Why did we only state PGPs one initially until a trans* woman involved in organizing demanded it be returned? Why did I have to stand up at the public forum and insist having people tell us their PGPs become mandatory, as it was somehow up for a vote again?

Why did one of my fellow organizers, a person I admire so fucking much, have to read to the group a seven fucking page letter about how torn up she felt by all that was going on, literally crying as she read it, only for the next comment from the group to be a white cis dude to announce he was not comfortable with us centering on the voices of those who felt thrust to the margins?

Why did the discussion about the destructiveness of binary gender have to be repeated time and time again?

How?

How are our reasons for leaving even a question, when they seem so blatently obvious, when i can remember them being vocalized sometimes cried or yelled at countless meetings only to be ignored.

So while slutwalk is not yet fully dead, I no longer consider it a part of my life. Those who wish to continue in that problematic group may continue to do so, but I am not a part of them. What they do has no connection to me and what I do. I have moved on. Moved on to a group that will hopefully hear the voices and complaints of those who are less privileged when they are raised. A group that actually understands intersectionality and how it works.

A group I can be proud to be a part of.

I don't talk too much on here about my political work. It is personal for me in a way my actual personal posts are not. Mainly because this is not just my personal life. It is deeply personal for everyone I work with, and I can not speak for them. I can only speak for my own personal experience, and my political work is more than that, and unless I am specifically given permission by my fellows I feel uncomfortable talking about it. But with all the posts I see going around about SW and the end of the year, and with that anon ask I was just given about my feelings towards SW now, I felt it prudent to express all of this.

Ah making good use of the ask me anything thing, to get me to talk about something I try not to, huh?IDK, last time I went to one of the meetings was months ago. I'm off their mailing list even. For all I know they had a wake up call and changed? I actually don't know how much of this I am allowed to talk about publicly. We (NOT SW) keep meaning to do some sort of release on all that went down, but we need to get our own shit together first, you know?

I do have to say that it was personally empowering for me. I went to that first meeting with very few friends, scared of public speaking or of social interaction in general, and in denial of what had been done to me. Through SWNYC I found my found family (almost all of whom are no longer a part of SW), came to terms with my attack, blossomed into someone who is not afraid of others, and I mean I was not only the front Marshal lit. leading the entire several-thousand person march, but was one of the closing MCs, telling a crowd of thousands about my attack, an attack I was pretending hadn't happened when I first became an organizer. I made so much of the stuff at SWNYC actually happen, and I wish I could be proud of it. But I am not. I still sometimes can't sleep because I was the security point person, and someone on my team should have seen and dealt with that fucking sign. Because everything that happened after was simply inexcusable. Hell the shit that went down the Thursday before the march was inexcusable! 

I put a name tag sticker on the inside of my jacket the day I left SWNYC and I keep it there still, even as it fades and peels off. To remind myself that when a relationship turns sour I do in fact have the power to walk on out. To tell the thing hurting me that I can not take it anymore, and then leave. That I don't need to accept that sort of bullshit. Shit. I cried so fucking much because of SW. So much time and energy spent both working on it, and regretting I ever got involved, or upset by how problematic it was, or just... fuck. 

Anyways, I love so many of the people in that organization on a personal social level, but goodness knows I will never make the mistake of trying to work with them politically again. Some people did of course manage to be so problematic I never want to have sort of contact with them again (someone told me I'll die old and alone because I called them out on something before. It was the funniest facebook note I ever got) but others I'm down with hanging out with because they are not as problematic?

But yeah. I left, and they know why. I know some have expressed confusion over it, but that is bs. We all made it perfectly clear why we had to go. So either you were listening and didn't care to internalize anything we said, or you weren't hearing us at all. Either way we aren't holding anyone's hand till they figure it out.

Subtitle: I just... I have a lot of feelings. Author's notes: Please, understand I'm trying to write out and make sense of my thoughts, that I'm coming from a place of love and respect, and that I aim to be as inclusive and non-offensive in my words as possible. If I err, please use it as an education point, I welcome it. Lastly, full disclosure: I am a queer stripper feminist with white privilege and a background in organizing activism. Trigger warnings. Topics include: racism, erasure, responsibility, education, censorship.

Let me go on record: the sign was in poor taste, to say the least. Reclaiming words is a sensitive topic and I would have liked to think we could all agree that the n-word, even in a John Lennon quotation (already socially complicated in origin), really shouldn't have a place in a rally supporting the multitude of feminisms as we try to unite behind a common cause (anti-rape) and find a common goal.

Because that's what we're attempting here, isn't it? A new era of feminism that includes the multitude of feminisms? Recognizes race and class, sexuality and gender, body and mind issues, and everything else that affects us as women (and all those things that 'women' can mean—and thusly all people?) To unite under ideologies we can all, in time, hopefully, agree on?

We are in those beginning stages and it is DAUNTING. I didn't even organize Slutwalk NYC; I just attended it and it was enough for me to want to make the 1.5 hour commute to go next week to the first meeting. But I'm already overwhelmed. I think many of us understand the thought behind 'feminist burnout' because the activisms are so important and intersecting and complicated and—at their best—beautiful.

And YES that requires safe space. But safe space is so very difficult to achieve, even with the best of intentions. As Kimberlynn said in her response earlier today, "I think we can definitely use this sign and the reaction to it as an opportunity to educate some folks and to work towards creating a larger safe space. However, we must note that no space is truly safe, especially as we strive to be as inclusive as possible."

A space is not safe because we "say it is"; we must MAKE it safe for everyone. EVERYONE. If we can't achieve that among ourselves, how can we ask it of the world at large, as we want to do?

So how do you make a safe space? Education, awareness, compassion.

This in and of itself is tricky. There is no "safe space" magic wand or door sticker that makes it so. YES - IT DOES NOT FALL ON THE VICTIMS TO EDUCATE THE MAJORITY. But if this is true (as it must be), then too do we have the problem of "Then who educates?"

Because the moment a white person speaks for the experiences of POC, there are social complications (and rightfully so). Or the moment a non-trans person tries to educate about the trans experience. We are allies, and we educate ourselves as best we're able, and we share links and information, but we cannot lead the fight: it's not our place. It's egotistical and erroneous to think we can, despite best efforts.

To expand the safety of our space, we need voices. I wanted to attend because I want to make the space safer for strippers and by extension other kindred workers; I want to make the space safe for lesbians and by extension all spectrum of gender and sexuality as I've experienced it. I was there in Union Square as they handed out anti-pornography fliers. This is problematic for me and this is a point of education I'd like to highlight.

This is because I can only speak to what I know and hear from others as they know. I'm not going to stand there and be the lead voice for trans rights as I've never lived a trans experience, but you can bet your sweet ass I will support that voice and if there is no voice to be offered, I would broach the topic asking for ways to reach out to people to make the space more inclusive and safe for them.

But back to the sign: this is in and of itself a point of education.

Of compassion and awareness. I look at the girl holding the sign: she appears white, so perhaps she has white privilege. Or perhaps she is adopted by two parents of colour. Or perhaps she is of mixed blood. I have no idea. I have no way of knowing this from the photo. I have effectively erased her identity. (Now, of course, I can be wrong: I do not know that girl, and it may be exactly as it appears. All I'm saying is there is room for thought; for voices, for questions, for answers.)

And I am GLAD that there seemed to be no issue about the sign's removal once it was asked of her. But I do feel bad for the organizers to a degree: the whole thing was a lot to oversee. And in the future we can say, shall every sign be pre-read and pre-approved? A hearing for each of the problematic ones, a jury? I do not say this tongue-in-cheek; I say it as a suggestion, but it would take a lot of time.

I did not have anyone assess the words I wrote on my chest ("My no voice is up here and so is my yes voice"). In retrospect, I assume perhaps my words would not have worked for people who were mute, honestly, and that is something that should be considered. But I am not mute. It does not defame mute people... so is it problematic if its true to my experience? Who's experience trumps? Was it offensive? Honest questions I now sit with.

Yet many people read my chest and many people photographed me. If I was in error, no one pointed it out: in fact, it's my own musings that created my problem with it. But if I was in error, how many people had seen me and said nothing, leaving me unaware though well-meaning? How many people saw her sign and said nothing? How long did it take for an organizer to see it amidst all the signs in the protest?

Everyone is welcome.

I was SO disappointed not to be able to go to SlutWalk NYC this past weekend. (Between my car breaking down and basically my whole house getting the flu, there was no way we could make it.) But seeing all the pictures and reading the tweets made my heart glad, and I feel like I was there in spirit.