here's some pride for you
Hell yeah.
I generally don't weigh in on the specific situation this badass sister is starting from--Michfest--as I think I've said my piece, and have found it more productive for myself to work on the generalities right now. But I have watched so many people I respect--and people I came of age looking up to--defend its policies, or choose to perform there (you disappoint me, Dar Williams, after making a younger me cry so hard hearing "When I Was a Boy" the first time), or shrug and say, yeah, it sucks, but I have a good time...
And you know what? It's a fucking music festival, you might want to say. One I never intend to go to, because I have better ways to emotionally abuse myself. But it is also a symbol. It is a touchstone. And it sends a message, a message that some of its organizers and proponents are proud to send, and others are just plain willing to be complicit in:
Stay Out. Stop Existing. Accept That You Are Unacceptable. Just Shut Your Damn Mouth And Stop Begging For Scraps. Remember, At All Times, That You Are A Lie.
I said, a while back, hell no. I will not swallow all that. I will not choke down my status as an abomination. I will stop letting you make me afraid, and join voices and hands until we can all raise them up.
And this sister? She's preaching that song in a way that makes me proud to have this thing in common with her. Proud to share a city. Proud to share a people.
This is a letter by one woman to another about a specific situation. And it's also a bright-shining "Ain't I A Woman" heir that hits truth hard and doesn't slow down.
Keep on preaching, woman. Hasta la victoria siempre.
I generally don't weigh in on the specific situation this badass sister is starting from--Michfest--as I think I've said my piece, and have found it more productive for myself to work on the generalities right now. But I have watched so many people I respect--and people I came of age looking up to--defend its policies, or choose to perform there (you disappoint me, Dar Williams, after making a younger me cry so hard hearing "When I Was a Boy" the first time), or shrug and say, yeah, it sucks, but I have a good time...
And you know what? It's a fucking music festival, you might want to say. One I never intend to go to, because I have better ways to emotionally abuse myself. But it is also a symbol. It is a touchstone. And it sends a message, a message that some of its organizers and proponents are proud to send, and others are just plain willing to be complicit in:
Stay Out. Stop Existing. Accept That You Are Unacceptable. Just Shut Your Damn Mouth And Stop Begging For Scraps. Remember, At All Times, That You Are A Lie.
I said, a while back, hell no. I will not swallow all that. I will not choke down my status as an abomination. I will stop letting you make me afraid, and join voices and hands until we can all raise them up.
And this sister? She's preaching that song in a way that makes me proud to have this thing in common with her. Proud to share a city. Proud to share a people.
This is a letter by one woman to another about a specific situation. And it's also a bright-shining "Ain't I A Woman" heir that hits truth hard and doesn't slow down.
Keep on preaching, woman. Hasta la victoria siempre.
posted by little light | 7:04 PM
3 Comments:
That's awesome.
I want to say something more but it's all coming out wrong.
That video brought tears to my eyes (as did your Seam of Skin and Scales post).
Sisterhood, indeed.
I heart that video. Thanks for pointing this one out.
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