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Fellow White People: Wake the Eff Up. Black People are DYING.

Fellow White People: Wake the Eff Up. Black People are DYING.

I mean, I know that’s not new news. They’ve always been dying.  They were dying when we kept them as property.  They were dying when we desegregated.  And they’re dying now, even when on paper they’re supposed to have the same rights as us.

I’m as white as White people come. The glow-in-the-dark, lobster the moment I see the sun variety.  I don’t know shit about the Black person’s experience.  And guess what, fellow White person?  Neither do you.

We don’t fear for our lives whenever we walk down the street. We don’t constantly get told, directly or otherwise, that we’re second class.  We don’t know what it’s like to have to teach our children to be afraid of those that are supposed to help us.  We don’t know what it’s like to still be a threat when we’re already pinned down and helpless.

See, when we go on killing sprees, people chalk it up to mental illness and discuss all the ways they’ve could’ve helped us before we snapped.  They detail our lives, trying to figure out where society went wrong.  When we rape people, we’re given light sentences and sympathy, lest a harsher punishment wreak havoc on our gentle souls.   Even when we suck, we have privilege oozing out of our asses.  And when we get killed, society looks for someone to blame rather than wondering what we did to deserve it.

So yes, all lives matter, but our lives have never been the ones at risk.  We were born knowing we mattered, and quite literally every system of society has gone ahead and confirmed that for us repeatedly throughout our lives.  Even you, broke White person.  Even you.  So let’s do a favour and fuck right off with our whiny “what about me?” rhetoric.  I know it’s super hard when everything ever has always been about us and now for once in our silver-spooned lives this conversation isn’t.  Fuck off anyway – our fragile, privileged hearts will get over it.  I promise.

Oh and while we’re at it, let’s stop looking for the isolated incidents where we actually were targeted and acting like that’s totally the same thing as a society of systemic-built oppression and racism, m’kay?  We don’t have to worry our pretty little heads – society already cared more about those incidents anyway.  Because, oh right, our lives were already valued more than our friends of colour.  Tell me again how all lives matter?  Perhaps we can say that when it’s actually true.

For now, wake the fuck up.  Black people are dying.  Stop telling them how they get to react to that. Stop telling them it’s not fair that they don’t care about us – as if that’s what they were implying or that we ever truly cared about them.  Sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up.  Listen for once.  Listen to understand. Recognize that we don’t.  Ask how we can be good allies.  Ask how we can help.  And figure out, once and for all, that Black Lives Matter doesn’t mean that White lives don’t.  Indeed, White lives were the only thing that ever did. I’d be pissed off, too.

 

 doesn’t mean other lives don’t. Like people who say “Save The Rainforests” aren’t saying “Fuck All Other Types of Forests” – Matt McGorry

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on July 10, 2016 in privilege, Random Shit

 

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I Will Not Scroll On By

I Will Not Scroll On By

How many times have you read on social media: “If you don’t like it, just scroll on by.”

Be it on an individual’s page or a group, I see this all. the. time.  All the damn time.  Someone posts something controversial (or sometimes, not even!) and the instant that anyone has the gall to offer an alternate view they are accused of being unsupportive or told they are just trying to start “drama”.  Is that really what we’re reduced to, these days?  Are we really not allowed to voice a different opinion or stance, lest we be told we’re judgmental or worse, a troll?  Or my absolute favourite: the claim that the poster has the right to freedom of speech and how dare you challenge that.

For starters.  Freedom of speech means that the government will not throw you in jail for your opinions.  That’s literally it.  Freedom of speech does not actually mean that there are no peer consequences for voicing opinions.  It doesn’t mean that you can say whatever you’d like and people have to either agree or “scroll on by.”  It doesn’t mean your job has to continue to employ you.  It doesn’t mean that your friends have to continue to support you.   You can say whatever the hell you want and stay out of jail.  Yay for freedom.

Secondly, as I’ve already written about, it’s pretty unrealistic to think you can or should post things for hundreds, maybe thousands of people to read and expect that there won’t be a few disagreements in the bunch.  If you aren’t in a place where you can truly listen to both sides, maybe don’t post so publicly in the first place.

Thirdly, most importantly, where is the growth?  Where is the conversation, the healthy debate, the changing of minds?  When we are not allowed to ever disagree with one another – or forced to ignore it when we do – we are forced in these silos of naivety and arrogance.  We are surrounded by confirmation bias, content in our own little bubble that everything we do, say, and believe is absolutely the right thing.

This, my friends, is dangerous.

That is exactly why I will not scroll on by.  When you post about how you spank your kid, I’m not going to just ignore that.  When you tout the benefits of feeding pablum at 3 weeks old, I’m not going to pretend I didn’t read.  When you talk about how unfortunate the SCOTUS gay marriage ruling was, I’m not going to support your stance with my silence.  Because I want to offer the other side.  I want to discuss my own findings.  I want us to have a conversation about where your information came from and why you feel that way.  Mostly? I want to understand.

What happens if I follow the “scroll on by” advice and ignore every post a new mom makes about letting her baby cry to sleep?  I start getting upset – CIO is something I’m desperately against.  Maybe I distance myself from her.  Maybe I block her.  Maybe I convince myself this is the absolutely best thing because I’m doing what I need to without upsetting or disagreeing with her. Right?  Everyone else does the same.  And maybe, just maybe, this mom hates using CIO but doesn’t know what else to do, and since everyone who would try anything different is just moving along, she gets no offers of alternatives.  She now lives in this silo, believing that everyone follows the same approach, because nobody is willing to say otherwise at the risk of a debate.

Or maybe she’s perfectly comfortable with her choice.  Also completely possible.  The point is, I don’t know. I don’t understand.  And I can’t, if I’m not allowed to ask.  If I’m not allowed to tell it from my side.   I’m not always right, and we will not always agree.  That’s okay.  I don’t need to agree with my network on every issue to love and respect them . I truly don’t.  What I do need is to understand.

When I refuse to scroll on by, I learn so much.  I learn that the new mom was desperately calling out for help, and I can share what worked for me.  Or I learn that she was just strongly advocating for her position, and we learn that this topic is now off-limits for the sake of our friendship . Either way, it’s a much better ending than me being upset and cutting off contact.  Not to mention all the lurkers reading the thread that may have been hoping for a different point of view.  I can’t even begin to tell you how much knowledge I’ve gained simply by reading the different stances of people, even when I wasn’t quite ready to listen the first few times.  Rinse and repeat for virtually any other topic.

Now, of course, there’s a way to disagree.  Or rather, there’s an acceptable way to present your side, without coming across like an arrogant jerk.  Diplomacy should never be underestimated.  If you come to the conversation slinging insults and mud, it’s unlikely that any decent point you’re making will ever be heard.  You actually can be a voice of disagreement and still be respectful of everyone involved.  I suspect the people who don’t follow this are the reason this whole scroll on by business even came to fruition.  Do us all a favour and don’t be that guy.  Nobody likes that guy.

I’m not the be-all-end-all guru of the world – I’ve got a lot to learn, too.  I hope that people won’t be afraid to challenge my beliefs, whatever those may be, so I can continue to question, learn, and grow.  Sometimes, it ends with me coming out with a new perspective.  Sometimes it makes me more stable in my original position.  It’s all still growth, and it won’t happen by scrollin’ on by.

 
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Posted by on July 7, 2015 in Parenting, Random Shit

 

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I Can (But I Won’t).

I Can (But I Won’t).

I can, little one.

I can stand over you; a giant in comparison.  I can intimidate and point my finger.  I can yell as your little face twists and turns in fear and sadness.  I can because I’m bigger.

I can let my anger get the best of me.  I can hit when I’m frustrated; when you’re not listening. I can stand by the “do as I say, not as I do” mantra.  I can wear it like a shield.  I can tell you it’s not okay to hurt, and then I can hurt you to reinforce my lesson.  I can because I’m stronger.

I can throw a tantrum and find that perfectly reasonable, but still not put up with yours.  I can tell you to calm down and get a grip, even though it’s apparent that I’m not able to do that for myself.  I can isolate you and tell you that you’re naughty.  I can expect you to know how to gain control of your emotions, or at the very least suppress them.  I can because I’m in charge.

I can leave you alone at night.  I can let you cry yourself to sleep, secure in my reasoning that you need to learn to soothe yourself.  I can ignore your stress and I can teach you to ignore your instincts, because that’s more convenient.  I can shut the door and go cozy up to my partner.  I can because I’m tired.

I can, little one.  But I won’t.

I won’t abuse my size and power by making you fear me.  I won’t inflict any emotional or physical pain on a child when it’s illegal for me to do it to an adult.  I’m bigger, and that’s already an uneven advantage.

I won’t act hypocritically and expect your immature mind to “get” it.  Setting respectful, firm boundaries takes more work, but I won’t settle for anything less than the long game.  I’m stronger; it’s not a fair fight.

I won’t expect you to have the tools to regulate your reactions until I give them to you.  Until I help you, and practice, practice, practice.  I don’t expect you to learn anything else overnight, and this is no exception.  I won’t be so unwilling to allow space for the negative emotions simply because they make me uncomfortable.  I’m in charge; which means I’m also in charge of supporting you through all those big feelings.

I won’t crave closeness but deny you the same.  I won’t believe the hype of the busy North American life that suggests that children are made manipulative, and need to be trained out of it.  You need me, and I know it.  I know that with proper support, you’ll develop your independence all on your own.  I won’t force it.  I’m tired, and so are you.

I might screw up sometimes though, kid.  I’m only human and the pressure is great.  I have learned habits and in times of stress I sometimes fall back into those ways.  I can apologize.  I can resolve to do better next time.  I can come up with an action plan of how I’ll do exactly that.  I can create a village and ask them to remind me.  I can work everyday to make sure that I won’t be everything that works against our attachment.  I can do those things, little one.   And I will.

 
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Posted by on June 27, 2015 in Parenting

 

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This Is A Mommy Tummy

This Is A Mommy Tummy

It’s been bigger, it’s been smaller.  It’s soft.  It’s squishy.  It’s covered in stretch marks.  It jiggles when I walk.  It hangs over my underwear (and if I’m not careful, my pants).  This, friends, is my mommy tummy.

It gave a warm, cozy home to new humans.  It provides comfort and warmth to them earthside today.   It made new life possible.  It made love I didn’t know existed a reality.

It’s healthy.  It’s active.  It keeps up with my kids.  It runs half-marathons and does yoga and scales walls in obstacle courses.

It’s one mommy tummy of many in this world. Some of which are also bigger.  Or smaller.  Or harder or softer.  Darker or lighter.

And to a lot of society, it’s hideous.

Think about that for a moment, folks.  My body, that creates humans and runs races and has zero medical conditions is unacceptable because it’s not twenty pounds lighter and divided neatly into six sections – as if those are the factors that determine health and longevity.  My body, which is like so many other bodies out there, is one in need of a makeover.  One that I should regulate and deprive and drill until it assumes the shape dictated by Photoshop.  A realistic goal, I’m sure.  My body is one reminiscent of so many “before” photos in the makeovers, further reinforcing the notion of its undesirability.

And what fitspo doesn’t seem to understand is that the body acceptance movement isn’t about promoting unhealthy habits and lifestyles (although there are many who would argue that you get to do whatever you damn well please with your own damn body because it’s yours).  It’s about recognizing that thin does not equal healthy.  That fat does not equal unhealthy.  And that there are so many variations in between that are normal, natural and beautiful.  That it’s okay to love yourself for who you are, in the skin you’re in.  Even if you’d rather be a different shape.  Especially then.  That it’s alright to have confidence and self-love.  It’s alright to decide to workout and eat differently and it’s alright to decide that you’re happy and healthy right where you are.  That sometimes, there are more important things in life than depriving yourself of cheese.

This is my mommy tummy.  Maybe it’s yours, too.  And I’m here to tell you – that’s okay.  You are beautiful and worthy, just the way you are.

mommy tummy

 
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Posted by on April 11, 2015 in Parenting, Random Shit

 

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World War Mommy

On every post I read and in every mommy group (online or otherwise) that I’ve been privy to I’ve noticed a disturbing trend: the never-ending Mommy Wars.  Posts about feeding to sleeping to diapering all end the same way: this side vs that side in an all out brawl.

I read these new posts or listen to these discussions and the theme is always the same.  Moms feel attacked and judged and thus this irrepressible need to defend their choices and children.  Breastfeed or co-sleep and you’re a crazy hippie whose child will never self-soothe.  Formula feed or CIO and you’re a child abuser who values your own convenience above your babe’s. The insults fly, the back and forth starts and before you know it there is a clear division of crazed mama bears willing to pounce.

Hey, I get it.  I don’t react well to criticism either, especially if maybe I’m not yet 100 % sold on a method myself.  But isn’t this parenting shit hard enough on its very own without the added pressure of every other mother chiming in on your choices?  Aren’t we all in the same boat with the same ultimate destination: secure, healthy and happy kids?

Look, friends. I have some pretty strong beliefs. I wear my babies. I breastfeed. I co-sleep. I have natural births. I cloth diaper. I’ve gone from kind of chewy to all out hippie granola-crunching mom throughout the years. I will defend my choices if asked; I will educate if appropriate. Do you know why? That is how I learned and that is what changed my perspective. I didn’t expect to use half these things when I first found out I was pregnant. “Attachment Parenting”, as coined by Dr. William Sears, is still not mainstream and although it certainly is gaining in popularity, unless you sing kumbaya in a drumming circle on a weekly basis you may just not have access to the information (ok, maybe that was exaggerated. I hate kumbaya). I learned, I asked and I debated. I was willing to listen and willing to explore other methods because the people I learned, asked and debated with were always respectful. They were also diplomatic. They were sharing just to share and didn’t judge me for not knowing or immediately adopting their techniques. They knew that no matter what, I was making the choices I needed to make for my family, for my sanity and for my child’s overall happiness.  Had they taken a different, more defensive and judgemental approach, it’s unlikely I would’ve ever been receptive to a style that I now can’t imagine parenting without.

I don’t care if your newborn shits in a disposable diaper, cloth diaper or in the toilet (google Elimination Communication).  If strap on your baby like an accessory or use a stroller.  Boob or bottle feed.  I know that in the end we all just want the same thing for our children and there are many different routes you can take that will arrive at the same destination.  What the hell do I care what road you take?  If you ask me for travel advice, I’ll happily share by giving suggestions and encouragement – but even if you choose a different journey, I will still support you.  I know that if I tell you that my way is the only way, you’ll likely try a different one just to prove me wrong.  Hell, the stubborn bitch in me would do the exact same thing.

So the next time you feel an innate need to defend your parenting, or criticize someone else’s, take a step back and ask yourself if being negative and judgemental will actually advance you in your goal.  Remind yourself that we are all in this together, learning, and that no one is the expert.  That’s right – not even you.  Ask yourself how (or if!)  you would want the information presented and phrase yourself accordingly.   You will catch more flies with honey and when you find yourself on the other side of the debate you’ll appreciate that same courtesy extended back to you.  Heck, you may even learn a thing or two.

 
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Posted by on March 27, 2012 in Parenting

 

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