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I've moved. Check out the new, improved (albeit still posting sporadically) La Lubu.

Everyday People

We're going back. waaayyyy back. Back to when Lubu was a cub, back when songs like "Everyday People" and "Troglodyte" were still being played on the radio. Now, apparently Linda Hirschman would like to return to those halcyon days of feminism, when women like herself fancied themselves the leaders and originators of feminist movement, and shame on those lesbians (the lavender menace!), women of color (womanism?! but your back makes such a nice bridge!) and/or working-class women (you people sure can cook!) who couldn't just put up, shut up, and wait their turn as Elizabeth Cady Stanton wasn't willing to do when it came to seeing black men gain the legal right to suffrage ahead of her. (head nod to Jill at feministe for that odious swill of Hirschman's.)

So. This isn't new. Geological faults, indeed.

See, once upon a time, there was an essay that critiqued the Movement (meaning: the Left as practiced in the United States and other English-speaking nations in the sixties) called The Grand Coolie Damn. And damn if some of us can't write our own essays with Feminism taking the place of the Movement (come to think of it, that's part of the problem right there---too much "movement" has moved out of feminism).

I have figured out why mainstream feminist groups do not represent feminism for me. The mainstream groups are not focused on the front-burner issues of everyday life.

In everyday life, I have to have a job. I need rights on that job, rights that will actually be recognized by an employer, not just placed on some paper in a theoretical way as some kind of 'suggestions' that everyone nudge-nudge, wink-wink knows aren't going to be recognized. Not to mention that everyone knows most women can't afford to hire a lawyer to pursue it.

In everyday life, I have to eat. Cook dinner, buy food, pack lunches, that sort of thing. Have any of the bigtime mainstream feminists like Hirschman been to the grocery store lately?! Haven't they noticed that the price of food has skyrocketed, but paychecks have stayed the same (if you're still getting one, that is)?

In everyday life, I need to get to work. In my area (and with what I do---I'm not at the same place all the time), that means the price of gas is having an impact. Why haven't mainstream feminist groups mentioned the price of gas and lack of alternatives for many of us?! Don't they realize not everyone lives where there's a subway or an el train to get to work? And that the average working woman can't afford the gentrified neighborhoods close to places of employment? (you know, you'd think infrastructure could be a no-brainer issue for the feminist movement---lots of jobs for women, better housing, etc.)

In everyday life, I need a roof over my head. Out here in Illinois, working people live counties away from their work, not to live in some fashionable "exurb", but because they can't afford a $1500 house payment/rent check but can afford the $300 to live in a small town. Also, I have a real hard time getting all worked up about urban sprawl, because that urban sprawl is what makes it possible for me to live in the city. If the alternative for yuppies is buying up houses like mine, running a bulldozer over them to build a fancy new townhouse, and pricing the rest of us out of our own neighborhoods---fuck that. Why aren't mainstream feminists talking about the impact of gentrification on women? Why aren't mainstream feminist groups all about affordable housing?

In everyday life, I send my daughter to school. Public school. Remember public schools? The ones most of us who have children send our kids to? The ones most of us attended? Well, I attended public schools throughout my life and I'm a strong supporter of the public schools. I want to know why mainstream feminist groups aren't putting the disparity of resources available to public schools on the front burner. Why do the wealthy areas of town have nice facilities, and the school my daughter attends is a fixer-upper that never seems to get fixed? Why do they have new books? (She's attending summer school across town now to help her reading. She's noticed the difference). Why should the surrounding suburbs have elementary schools with librarians and libraries, while this district goes without? Why should the quality of my daughter's education, the opportunities for learning available to her, depend solely on the kind of mortgage or rent I can afford to pay? Where the fuck is feminism on all this?

Come to think of it, where is feminism on (drum roll please) the commons. The commons. Stuff like libraries, public parks and recreation, the streets, gathering places, that sort of thing. Young people in my neighborhood get hassled for hanging out. They can't go hang out anywhere where they don't have money---kids that aren't buying anything get told to move on. The park district has dismantled basketball courts in public parks, and schoolyards are locked up after school hours with "no trespassing" signs. Hell, even the local movie theater monopoly has a "no teenagers after 9PM without parent" policy. What the fuck, chuck? Don't mainstream feminists have teenagers?

And frankly, I'd like to know on what planet child care is a "middle-class issue". Lack of child care is a front-burner issue for working-class and poor women. It's the difference between whether or not we have or can keep a job (or get an education so we can get a job).

In everyday life, some people go to prison and have a permanent record while others go to Betty Ford and have no felony to keep them from employment. In everyday life, disabled women have a hard time getting a job. In everyday life, women are getting the double-crunch of caring for ill parents and young children at the same time, or triple crunch of being the main financial support as well. In everyday life, women are being separated from their children because their papers aren't in order. In everyday life, women are burying children killed by gang violence, asthma attacks, this fucking illegal war started by this piece-of-shit pResident, and other easily preventable causes that mainstream feminism gives lip service to. In everyday life, women whose only crime is not being able to afford to keep the electricity on in their homes are having their children taken from them and put into foster care. In everyday life, not every woman experiencing domestic violence is going to be helped by the police. In everyday life, people drive by women being beaten on the street, because "oh, that's probably her pimp" or "oh, it's none of my business" or "it's her fault for staying with him." In everyday life, working women worry about how the hell they're going to make it when they are too old or sick to work. In everyday life, women have their healthcare disappear when they lose their jobs; their pensions (if they are among the select few who have such a thing anymore) evaporate when their pension fund goes bankrupt. In everyday life, women get sick because of environmental racism and classism----the lack of money to move and thus insulate themselves from toxins directly related to that proverbial 77 cents on the dollar. Directly related to the last-hired, first-fired experience.

Everyday life. Everyday people.

I want a feminist movement that centers the same issues I see highlighted on Ask A Working Woman or Moms Rising, both of which for some unknown reason are never mentioned as feminist. I want a feminist movement that realizes that what ails the body politic tends to give women pnemonia. I want a feminist movement that fights for all women, not just those who can most neatly wedge our lives into the current male template. I want a feminist movement that recognizes the everyday sheroics of unsung, unacknowledged, unphotographed and unphotoshopped women. I want a feminist movement ready to STRIKE in support of Lilly Ledbetter. I want a feminist movement that believes in the eight-hour day, so women can enjoy the rest of our lives, too. I want a feminism that recognizes that sometimes the work day isn't nine-to-five, or behind a desk. I want a feminism that isn't afraid of counting sisters like this one amongst the rank and file.

Like Little Stevie Van Zandt sang awhile back on his album Voice of America: "I want Justice!"

But what do I get? I get Linda Hirschman tryin' to tell me that white middle-class women started feminism, neatly excising the herstory of the foremothers of organized labor, who were striking decades before Seneca Falls.

It's no accident that the most dynamic forward motion in what used to be called women's liberation isn't coming from within the nominal 'feminist movement', but from without in the labor movement, in anti-racist movement, and other social justice movements. And why? Because of the very thing that Linda Hirschman thinks is sending feminism to hell in a handbasket---intersectionality. A word that I didn't even know existed until a few years ago, but a name I've been searching for throughout my life---a name to attach to a concept on why the hell reality isn't fitting the mainstream just-so analysis.

Brownfemipower has a post on movement making that provides an answer for Hirschman and her allies on why feminism seems to have lost its focus. Feminism---the nominal, mainstream variety---isn't focusing on those who need it the most. Those who are thirsty for it, if they only knew those waters weren't just at the whites-only fountain, or the rich-only fountain, or pick your poisoned well.

Meanwhile, I'm still finding my feminism (and allies) where I've always found it---down at the union hall, at the trades' council, out on the front porches of my neighborhood. With the Everyday People. And when the nominal feminist movement decides to get back to the block, we'll still be here. Still loving, still fighting.

Pace

Feminist-Minded Children's Books

This image is a self-portrait of illustrator Trina Schart Hyman with her daughter Katrin, who grew up to be an author. They collaborated on some books together. You can learn more about her at wikipedia, which is where this image came from.

Feministe has a call for feminist-minded children's books that either feature strong female characters and/or feature diverse backgrounds and family structures. Seeing as I have a veritable route of used bookstores across the central part of Illinois and into St. Louis where I make pit-stops (is there anything better than used bookstores? maybe used CD stores!), and have amassed a collection of goodies for my daughter, I figured it might be better to post them here.

• Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George. A classic. Miyax (Julie) runs away from home after an attempted rape, and survives on the tundra by being "adopted" by a wolf pack.



• Mama, I'll Give You the World by Roni Schotter, illustrated by S. Saelig Gallagher. Luisa is the daughter of a single mother who works long hours in her beauty salon, scrimping and saving for the dream of sending Luisa to college someday. Luisa throws her mama a surprise birthday party at the salon, with all her regular customers and neighbors. Roni Schotter's website.



• Mel's Diner by Marissa Moss. Mabel is a young girl growing up in her parent's diner, learning the ropes. Mel's Diner is the anchor of the community---so's Mabel. Author/illustrator Marissa Moss has a website; she also wrote Mighty Jackie: The Strikeout Queen, about a 17-year-old girl who pitched against the N.Y. Yankees in a demonstration game in 1931, Brave Harriet, about the first woman to fly solo across the English Channel, and True Heart, about a 16-year-old girl who loads freight for the Union Pacific and dreams of becoming a railroad engineer.



• Chicken Sunday by Patricia Polacco. Patricia Polacco is a prolific author/illustrator from Michigan (though she lived in Oakland for much of her life), and frequently covers multicultural and social justice themes. This book is no exception (psst! It's autobiographical!). She is dyslexic, and is a fierce critic of No Child Left Behind. She has a website.



• Stephanie's Ponytail by Robert Munsch. Stephanie goes through various versions of ponytail, all of which the kids at school deem "ugly", but copy her style the next day. Stephanie cooks up a real surprise for them.....! Here's Robert Munsch's website.



• Friends from the Other Side/Amigos Del Otro Lado by Gloria Anzaldua, illustrated by Consuelo Mendez. A bilingual book about a girl named Prietita who befriends a mexican boy, Joaquin, and helps him and his mother evade the Border Patrol. She wrote two other children's books, Prietita Has a Friend and Prietita y La Llorona. (Gary, Indiana has a version of La Llorona, so does the south side of Chicago. Maybe she knows Resurrection Mary.) Gloria Anzaldua was a giant in feminism, and her death was a loss to the world. Check out some of her adult books, too! ;-)



• Bread and Roses Too by Katherine Paterson. A chapter book, this is the story of the famous strike as seen through the eyes of Rosa, an italian immigrant girl. Maybe you've heard of Katherine Paterson's Bridge to Terabithia?



• Two books by Bobby Combs: ABC: A Family Alphabet Book and 123: A Family Counting Book. ABC was illustrated by Desiree Keane and Brian Rappa; 123 was illustrated by Danamarie Hosler. These books aren't just multiracial, they also feature LGBT families.



• Jesse on the Night Train by Richard Thompson, illustrated by Eugenie Fernandes. Jesse's adventures sneaking out of the bunk in the middle of the night to go help the engineer drive the train. Or....was she only dreaming? Richard Thompson has a website, too.



• The Woman Who Outshone the Sun/La Mujer Que Brillaba Aun Mas Que El Sol by Alejandro Cruz Martinez, a young Zapotec poet who was killed in 1987 while organizing Zapotecs to regain lost water rights. This story is a traditional Zapotec story known as The Legend of Lucia Zenteno. The illustrator, Fernando Olivera, was a friend of the author.



• Night of the Five Aunties by Mesa Somer, illustrated by Kate Salley Palmer. Pandemonium ensues as five sisters from a vibrant matriarchal family come to visit. The author hasn't written any more children's books (yet), but you can learn more about her here.



• This is the Key to the Kingdom by Diane Worfolk Allison. Gorgeous illustrations. A young girl uses her imagination and compassion. We've got another one from this author, Wishing at Dawn in the Summer, which is about an older sister teaching her younger brother how to fish. The younger brother is secretly rooting for the fish to get away! Here's a list of some other books she's written.



• Jezebel's Spooky Spot by Alice Ross, illustrated by Ted Rand. Jezebel is being raised by her father and grandmother, and then her father gets sent off to war. She learns to face her own fears by heading out into the swamp alone to think.



• Pockets by Jennifer Armstrong, illustrated by Mary Grandpre. A young woman goes to a drab little village and tries to adjust to its drab ways. Shows what happens when a woman stifles her dreams and creativity, and the power that is released when she starts to break the rules. Armstrong is another prolific writer with a website. For a time, she was married to the professional curmudgeon, Jim Kunstler. Sweet bedda matri, talk about opposites attract. Oh hell, let's not go there; we've all made our mistakes in love-n-war! Anyway, you may recognize Mary Grandpre's work from Harry Potter.



• The Seven Chinese Sisters by Kathy Tucker, illustrated by Grace Lin. When the youngest sister gets stolen by a hungry dragon, the other six take matters into their own hands and rescue her---and second sister knows kung fu. Illustrator Grace Lin has a site and a blog!



• The Fisherwoman by Louise Brierley, illustrated by Anne Carter. A fisherwoman finds a strange pink urn in her net, and her life really begins to change. Sort of a "be careful what you wish for, you just may get it" story. The moral of the story? Be proud of who you are.



• A Castle on Viola Street by Dyanne DiSalvo, a wonderful italian-american author and illustrator. In this book, a family works hard for their Habitat for Humanity house. DiSalvo mostly writes books with urban and multicultural themes, and italian-american characters and culture are prominent in her work. Her website reveals her to be a pretty busy woman; when she's not writing books, she plays rhythm guitar with her husband in the band Smash Palace.



• Changing Woman and her Sisters: Stories of Goddesses from Around the World retold by Katrin Hyman Tchana, illustrated by her mother Trina Schart Hyman. A retelling of mythic stories from around the world.



• How Night Came From the Sea: A Story from Brazil retold by Mary-Joan Gerson, illustrated by Carla Golembe. Traditional Bahian tale of the goddess Iemanja and her daughter. The author is a clinical psychologist who also writes children's books. Her interest in folktales comes from her time in the Peace Corps. Here is illustrator Carla Golembe's site.



• Grandmother Five Baskets by Lisa Larrabee, illustrated by Lori Sawyer. Lucy learns to keep Poarch Creek culture alive from working with "Grandmother Five Baskets", a tribal elder without children of her own. The illustrator is a tribal member.



• The Wolves in the Walls by Neil Gaiman, illustrated by Dave McKean (in a really wicked Jackson Pollack style). Lucy saves the day, and her family's house, when the wolves come out of the walls. Author Neil Gaiman is probably more well known for his graphic novels; on his website, it reads: "Sometimes, when he was smaller, people used to tell Neil Gaiman not to make things up. He never listened." I like that.



• Feliciana Meets d'Loup Garou by Tynia Thomassie, illustrated by Cat Bowman Smith. Feliciana was warned all day that the Loup Garou would get her if she didn't cool her jets with that attitude, but she didn't listen. When the Loup Garou comes to get her, she stands her ground; they end up commisserating on how hard it is to keep one's temper. He teaches her how to howl in the swamp before she heads home. If you go to Tynia Thomassie's website, you can hear the Loup Garou. Her books emphasize cajun culture.



• Trupp by Janell Cannon. Trupp is a catlike creature called a Fuzzhead, sorta like a Yeti. He wants to find about about those strange creatures that call themselves "humans", so he puts on some clothes and heads off to the City. No one sees anything unusual about him; he is so different he is "invisible". After he cuts his paw, a homeless woman takes care of his wound and shows him how to survive in the City before he goes back home. Janell Cannon has written and illustrated several well-known children's books, including Stellaluna and Pinduli.



• The Ugly Princess and the Wise Fool by Margaret Gray, illustrated by Randy Cecil. Another story in the tradition of "be careful what you wish for...", a notoriously ugly princess lusts after a handsome but rather dumb prince, and asks her fairy godmother to make her beautiful so Prince Dimbulb (no, not the name used in the story!) will take notice. She does, and he does, and the princess wants her ugly self back. Did I mention that the King has banned all wisdom, because he has a simple mind? (Are we living this story somehow, right now?)



• Emily and the Werewolf by Herbie Brennan, illustrated by David Pace. Emily saves the day with the skills her witchy grandmother taught her---Hypnosis for Beginners! No more unfriendly neighborhood werewolf problems. Here's Herbie Brennan's website.



• A Chair for my Mother by Vera B. Williams. A young girl lives with her grandmother and her single mother, who busts her ass as a waitress at the Blue Tile Diner, sometimes falling asleep at the table after she comes home and kicks her shoes off. After their house burns down, neighbors and relatives pitch in to help them move to a house down the block, but mama and daughter are really looking forward to having one piece of furniture that isn't hand-me-down, and that is cushy enough to accommodate the both of them, cuddled up in the evenings while mama takes a load off. When the ginormous "tip jar" is filled up (mama empties the change from her pockets nightly), they go buy the chair of their dreams. Vera B. Williams writes about working class characters.



• Sailing Off to Sleep by Linda Ashman, illustrated by Susan Winter. A young girl fights bedtime by making up stories about adventures in the arctic. Every time killjoy mama says she can't do this-or-that, the girl invents a story about how her arctic animal friends will help her out. After all that imagination gets exercised, she's ready for bed. This was/is a favorite in Lubu's den; my daughter loves the animals, I love that mama appears to be single (which is why I first got the book, down at Left Bank Books in St. Louis. (What a great place!) It's hard to find books that show single mothers as (a)existing, or (b)not pathological. I was always on the lookout for books that showed single-mama families in a positive light. Linda Ashman has a website worth checking out.



• Into My Mother's Arms by Sharon Jennings, illustrated by Ruth Ohi. Perfect illustrations! A day in the life of a busy single mother and her daughter. And I do mean perfect illustrations---mama has the pre-coffee morning face while daughter is a dynamo; mama is reading a book on a stool by the tub while daughter splashes around and gives herself a soap mohawk. Sharon Jennings has a website, and she has collaborated with Ruth Ohi on several books. Visit this site if you like Ruth Ohi's expressive characters for other books she has illustrated.



• Wilhe'mina Miles: After the Stork Night by Dorothy Carter, illustrated by Harvey Stevenson. Wilhe'mina runs through the swamp late at night to get the midwife when her mama goes into labor (daddy is working up north and isn't back yet). Dorothy Carter is a retired schoolteacher who is also an actress both on and off Broadway. Her children's books feature african-american characters, culture and history.



• My Mommy by Susan Paradis. Beautiful illustrations. Mama would even bring down a slice of the moon for her little one. Mother/daughter animal pairs are right alongside the human pair in the imagination of the little girl as she tells the story of a typical day. Her website gives examples of her work.



• My Somebody Special by Sarah Weeks, illustrated by Ashley Wolff. This story featuring forest creatures playacting as humans, can be summed up as, "Finally, mama came to get me from daycare!" I'm thinking, "Finally! A book that recognizes that daycare exists!!" I like the animal characters; some wear Carharrts, some carry coffee mugs, and the facial expressions are perfect. Here's some more books by the author; over here is the illustrator's site.



• A Bird About to Sing by Laura Nyman Montenegro. Natalie is a young poet that finds her way out of stage fright so she'll be ready for open mike night. Laura Nyman Montenegro is an Illinois author.



• Dogsbody by Diana Wynne Jones. Sirius the Dog Star is sentenced in astral court for a crime he committed against another entity. His sentence? To be reborn as a dog (hence, losing much of his memory and ability to communicate) on the planet Earth and recover the weapon he used and lost in his crime---only then can he return to his former celestial status. A young girl name Kathleen rescues him from near death, and becomes his ally as he becomes hers (she's an irish girl being raised in an english family, and her aunt really hates the irish). Adults love this book. This is a good fan site on the author and her work.



• Bessie Smith and the Night Riders by Sue Stauffacher, illustrated by John Holyfield. Based on a true story of how blues legend Bessie Smith scared the shit out of the Klan when they came to bust up a tent gig. Sue Stauffacher is a Michigan author who has written several children's books and has another website that targets parents, teachers and others who work with kids who have difficulty reading. Her Wireman comics project is designed to help low-level readers achieve proficiency.



• and the entire Strega Nona series by Tomie dePaola. He's been writing children's books for over 40 years, and many of his books are a reflection of his irish and italian heritage.

Whew! Now, for some magazines that might be of interest:

• All Round isn't publishing a magazine anymore, but they do have a book, and back issues are available. Kids with a real creative, artsy streak will love it.



• New Moon is for "Girls and their Dreams"



• Skipping Stones, an international multicultural children's magazine



• Stone Soup, for young writers and readers



• Teen Voices, a magazine by and for teenage and young adult women

Finally, here are some databases to help you find children's books:

• Award-Winning Children's Literature



• Children's Literature Comprehensive Database



• Multicultural Children's Book Database



• The Amelia Bloomer Project



• Non-Traditional Gender Roles



• Kay Vandergrift's Feminist Page



• Empowering Young Women

Happy reading!

UPDATE: I almost forgot---we read a book (borrowed from school) this weekend:

• Just Us Women by Jeanette Caines, illustrated by Pat Cummings. A wonderful story of a fun road trip of a young girl and her Aunt Martha to visit other relatives in North Carolina. They do all the things they couldn't do if they were hauling other people with 'em! This book was a Reading Rainbow feature, and the author has won a lifetime achievement award from the Virginia Center for the Book. She had a children's bookstore in Charlottesville called "The Purple Alligators", but like many other small shops, it folded in the wake of megastores. Her books sometimes venture into territory uncovered by most children's authors (adoption, divorce, "funny uncles"), but her work also reflects african american culture. Illustrator Pat Cummings does beautiful work; we borrowed Storm in the Night from the library. (and did I mention that Reading is Fundamental is an excellent source? They've been around my entire life, and their federal funding is in jeopardy. Go to their site and contact your Congressperson today!)

Couldn't Keep It To Myself*: Making Tomorrow Today

Heard something on the local public radio station last Monday that was too good not to share: Making Tomorrow Today: the Power of Youth. Here's what I heard:

• some fantastic poetry ("Tomorrow is Today") from Rhummanee Hang, a spoken word artist who is also active in South East Asians Making Immediate Change,

and learned about people and organizations like

• Jessica Rimington of the One World Youth Project


• Amalia Anderson of Fourth World Rising (she focuses her energy in multiple directions these days, including with the National Media Justice Network)


• Caleb Ryen of the Vista Community College (Berkeley) Gay-Straight Alliance


• Manuel Francisco of Tloque Nauaque Teocalli/Sixth Sun Calmecac Wilderness Program, a group that works to provide cultural training and preserve traditional indigenous ceremony as well as environmental education and activism. He credits the folks at the Ralph J. Bunche Youth Leadership Academy for his activism. (And where did Ralph J. Bunche learn his activism as a youth? His mother's family, the Johnsons, whose farm outside of Alton, Illinois was an important stop on the Underground Railroad.)


• Thenmozhi Soundararajan, of Third World Majority, an incredibly busy woman who's into a little bit of everything---technology, storytelling, film, writing, and is the only person on this radio program I already heard of. Here's an interview with her from the now-defunct Clamor magazine. (Defunct! Dammit! Another good source bites the dust!!)


• Lily Dong, who was instrumental in creating the Arroyo Seco Woodland and Wildlife Park

This program also featured the work of the Destiny Arts Youth Performance Company. The Destiny Arts Center teaches arts, performance, leadership skills, martial arts, and violence prevention to youth. Filmmaker Paul Ginocchio made a documentary about Destiny Arts; the name "Destiny" stands for De-Escalation Skills Training Inspiring Nonviolence in Youth. I think we need a center like that in every city in the U.S.

*********

*Title shamelessly stolen from Wally Lamb's Couldn't Keep It to Myself, collection of stories written by women at the York Correctional Institute, where he volunteers teaching a writing class. He's the phenomenal italian-american writer who is better known for She's Come Undone and I Know This Much Is True. He edited another collection of stories from the women at York entitled I'll Fly Away: further Testimonies from the Women of York Prison. Sometime this fall, he may come out with the latest novel he's been working on, The Hour I First Believed. From the pre-reviews I've seen, it looks like this work will continue to explore the themes of buried history, hidden secrets, mental illness---and salvation.

A good friend of mine brought me I Know This Much Is True when I was in the hospital on bed rest for premature labor. That book, a crossword puzzle magazine, and a sparkly-feathery ballpoint pen for the crosswords (and to cheer me up). I didn't touch it for years, because the only thing I knew about it was that a dead baby figured into the plot somehow (dead baby!! what the hell was she thinking, bringing a dead baby book in to a woman in extremely premature labor!!!). Uhh-uhh. A week or so after I was home from the hospital, but my daughter wasn't, I lost it in all four colors while watching The Joy Luck Club when Suyuan left the twins under a tree with all that was left of her worldly wealth ("NOOOO!!!NOT THE BAY-BEES!! WAAHHH!!). Good thing I came in towards the tail end, and missed the infanticide scene, huh? I never, ever cry over movies, or over much of anything else, either. I chalk it up to the crashing hormones of childbirth, and the extreme duress of a newborn in critical condition in the NICU. Eh, anyway, to my friend's credit, she wasn't thinking of that part of the book; she was thinking about the dysfunctional sicilian family theme being right up my alley. And after a few years of the book sitting around on the shelf, I picked it up and didn't put it down all weekend. It was right up my alley. ;-)

Follow the Drinking Gourd

Seems like every city in Illinois north of I-64 (and some south of it) has a story about the Underground Railroad. There are an estimated 500 sites known to be associated with the Underground Railroad in need of historic preservation. From scuttlebutt across Illinois, I suspect that number is a conservative figure. There were several main routes through the state, most of them following rivers; typical "station" locations are associated with people or institutions vocally allied against slavery---congregational churches, unitarian/universalists, quakers, various catholic orders, some methodists, several colleges in Illinois either founded by or staffed with prominent abolitionists.

One of those stations is Woodlawn Farm in Jacksonville; how it became known as an Underground Railroad site illustrates the clandestine nature of the Railroad and the importance of family connections in keeping the secret. Jacksonville was one of the more visible stops along the route originating in Alton, and has several sites. New Philadelphia, the first town in the United States incorporated by an african-american, was also a station along the west-central part of Illinois, but is often overlooked by the written historical record; part and parcel of the longstanding pattern of erasing the contributions of african americans (and others of color) to U.S. history and culture---even in their own liberation. Dr. Juliet E.K. Walker, the great-great granddaughter of Free Frank McWorter, has a site with more information on New Philadelphia and its importance.


The Illinois Valley has many scattered sites along the Railroad; the convergence of several routes from the south and west accounts for the multiple stations, as does the history of the "conductors" (the developing industries and railroads brought people in from abolitionist communities from the eastern part of the U.S.). James Macon, a graduate student at Northern Illinois University in DeKalb, produced a film entitled Wade in the Water that details Underground Railroad activity in that area. Much of mainstream history emphasizes the participation of nonviolent resisters in the Railroad, but one of the conductors in Sycamore, David West, was well-known for his marksmanship and willingness to use it.

The City of Ottawa, Illinois, was the site of an event that tends to go unmentioned in the history books, but is part of verbal legend in the Illinois Valley. Abolitionists went to the county courthouse in Ottawa and rescued John Gray, who had escaped from slavery in Missouri only to be held in federal custody under the Fugitive Slave Act. Eight of those involved were indicted under federal charges, and two (John Hossack and Dr. Joseph Stout) were fined $100 and served ten days in jail.

The success of the Underground Railroad in saving lives was due to the ability of conductors and station masters (and their families and associates) to keep secrets. While some of the conductors left written accounts of the Underground Railroad after the Civil War, most of the information available today comes from following the trails of oral history, old newspaper accounts, geneologies and local legend. "Proof" often comes only in the form of hidden cellars or underground passageways between buildings. Hard evidence, the kind that authorities call "unbiased", remains as well hidden as escaped slaves. The State of Illinois' Freedom Trails website thankfully makes a passing mention of the controversy surrounding the use of quilts as signaling devices, while continuing the legacy of their use as a site navigator, with no apologies. The intensity of the critiques of Hidden in Plain View: A Secret Story of Quilts and the Underground Railroad" recalls similar critiques directed towards Martin Bernal's Black Athena: The Afroasiatic Roots of Classical Civilization. Perhaps it should be worth mentioning that the academy controls what is considered to be an acceptable degree of proof; it is probably also worth mentioning that this standard inevitably condemns the history of subaltern peoples to "myth" and "legend", as their physical survival often depended on an unwritten record (assuming that they even had access to their own means of constructing a written record).

But more to the point, what is considered an acceptable or important enough subject of study? Who controls the budgets and hours of man- and womanpower dedicated to unearthing our history? Who or where is the "our" in history? Dr. Walker had a helluva time trying to garner the interest necessary in Free Frank in order to have his story become part of the public record. Why would that be? To my knowledge, there has never been a definitive record created of all the various stations alsong the Underground Railroad, or even a fairly comprehensive list of sites even within the state of Illinois. There are disparate collections of locations for those willing to follow the paths (geneology sites, county collections, library collections, various books, newspapers, journals, etc.) to get to them. State and national information sites tend to list only the most well-known stations and station-masters. The names of the people they assisted? Mostly unrecorded (sometimes, their names were unknown to the conductors as part of the plan). The historical record doesn't catch all of history.

One more reason to contemplate the necessity of breaking silence, even as we remain mindful of the lessons and techniques of the conductors and passengers along the Railroad.

Re-committment

Viva brownfemipower! Si, se puede!

I don't have much time this morning, so no lengthy explanations about what recommitting means---just that I am overjoyed that bfp is doing just that, in the way that is best (most sustaining) for her.

Even before all the recent cyclical bullshit to come down the pike (and if you're here, you probably already know what I'm talking about), I've been thinking about how to get back to what broughtme here to begin with. Bfp's shutting down her blog brought some clarity to me, as I thought about what I loved best about her blog:

• the "radical digest" format. The posting/linking of news stories gleaned from other sources (from traditional media, alternative media, blogs, radio, podcasts, etc.) along with commentary, critique, analysis and announcement of educational and/or activist events made it an essential one-stop. I always learned something there.


• the focus on labor, as well as the not-overtly-stated-but-there-just-the-same examples given on how people integrate activism into their working lives. At bfp's blog, it was always a given that the reading audience had a lot on their plates, too. Her blog was a living example of how to find room for making shit happen; that lesson was a necessary reminder to me.


• the personal was sure the hell political (still is). My favorite writers have always been those who wrote viscerally, brought their whole damn selves into it, and weren't afraid to reveal themselves on the page. Unfortunately, some of those folks are dead (Molly Ivins, June Jordan, Mike Royko, etc.). It's a form of writing that has fallen out of favor in journalism for reasons unknown to me----probably has something to do with the pretense of 'objectivity', and more likely is related to the homogenization of the mainstream media after deregulation (don't ask me how that works---"the more boring and drab we make it, the more people will respond to the writing and buy our newspaper/magazine/books"---yeah, that strategy has worked as well as it sounds). Anyway, bfp's spirit infused the page with new life; the words themselves rose up off the page and sailed into my thoughts for hours after a post. That's what writing is supposed to do, dammit!!


• she repped the midwest. Flyover country was home to her, as it is home to me. She listed local events happening in her neck of the woods, wrote about people and places that don't get near enough mention.


• poetry, music, art----lots of references! Great place to find new things to read, hear, and see. The arts that keep you going---the stuff of life.

And you know what? Those are exactly the same qualities I wanted to bring out here--- just haven't been doing it. Lesser-known stories, labor news and views, the midwest-still-exists, passing along reading, listening, and visual art recommendations, and wrapping it all in the wherefores and the whys of who I am and how I write---that's what I'm planning on bringing to this potluck. "The night belongs to the wolf." Look for new posts in the wee hours, after the cub is in bed. I'll be writing a lot about labor, exposing my miniscule readership to the pleasure of italian-american women authors through the "Umana Cosa" series I started and had two whole posts on (ADD, anyone?), and really pushing folks to support alternative/progressive media. If you have any spare change at all, use it to subscribe to just one good source (it won't killya). I'll be offering plenty of suggestions! Gonna rise up blogging....

Also....I'm mourning the loss of The Redstar Perspective. Great source for Katrina information, and while she may not dig writing a mix of analysis and journaling, I sure the hell loved reading it. Go check out her site and shoot her an email if you want to know where she'll be posting after her dissertation is done.

Off to the races.....

To Speak This Into Being........

There are no words, just a blank space. A disappearedness. Her last words were of letting go; being done. But I can't help it, I'm a mother too, and I hold her words in my heart like a picture posted to a board; that picture silently announcing: do you know this woman? Have you seen her? She was here.

She's still here. But her words are not. The only form of self-protection she has is silence.

It's a lesson we learn early. Silence. Silence in the face of pain. Silence in the face of abuse. Silence in the face of mocking. Silence in the face of doors slammed shut. Silence in the face of rape. Silence in the face of theft. We even will our stomachs to be silent. We bite our tongues until they bleed, lest our words dig a hole for others to throw the dirt on top of us. We teach our children these lessons. Shhh! Hard stare, cut the eyes. Look straight ahead, keep your mouth shut, say nothing. You'll only make it worse. We have elaborate nonverbal cues to convey our silence.....and our thoughts behind the silence. Expressions honed and passed through generations, until they feel entwined at the cellular level. We learn early on to allude, imply, invoke sotto voce. We learn the liminal space between the lines. We inhabit that space; give it our bodies and our voice. Or not.

I've been meditating on "La Lubu", and why I chose to embody this name. It fits well, like a second skin, even better over the years. Lubu comes from the shadows, which has pretty much been my modus operandi in blogging. I get to it when I can. Life intervenes. I found the Internet in 1998. I'm still not very technically adept. I stand in awe at stuff the younger folks are doing, like Sudy's vlogging. But like my namesake, pyrotechnics have never been my thing. Instead, I find paths. Half-paths, overgrown paths, rocky paths, flooded paths...anything to get to where I'm going. And like my namesake, I have endurance. I can run down those paths for days. Years, even. I will find my way.

Lemme get personal. When I first found the Internet, I looked for all nature of siciliata. Anything I could find! Books, websites, anything. And anything on tradeswomen. Any organizations that might still be active, any books I could read, anything that could help me find connections. But in those earlier days, I didn't find much. And then I got pregnant. And remembered reading something in the Utne Reader about a magazine called HipMama, so I looked for that, thinking maybe that would be my kinda magazine. But it wasn't just a magazine...it had something I never heard of before, called "boards". Boards. Bulletin boards. A conversational style of reading.

So I read. Sometimes posted, but mostly read. Learned about breastfeeding, parenting, education....listened to the voices of mothers. And that was something. And then one fine day, a woman posted (I don't even remember under what thread-heading) about italian-american women writers, and the work of the Italian American Writers Association. That I didn't know existed. She gave lists of her favorite authors, and recommended reading.

And that set. me. off. Off and running. Across the Internet, across libraries, bookstores. It was like finding the holy grail, that woman putting up that post. I found new paths. Paths home. And I found out another curious thing from all my reading: that I wasn't the only italian american woman who found connection and sustenance in the work of african americans. Helen Barolini, Rita Ciresi, Maria Laurino....many italian american women writers talked about finding their voice through following the paths of african americans who went before. Ishmael Reed is a man white middle-class feminists love to hate, but he was among the first to support italian american women writers, at a time when other publishers laughed at the idea that italian americans read books. Trying to traverse the minefields of race, class and place in l'ammerica, it only made sense to follow the footsteps of people already finding a way. Bent branch, stone on top of stone, quilt hung on the fenceline....the path laid and handed down to others crossing boundaries.....

So, when I read brownfemipower talking about how angry she was at her (relatively) late discovery of chicana writers, wondering aloud why they didn't reach out to young chicanas in the midwest, how crucial their voices were needed....damn! did I relate to that!! Fred Gardaphe goes all over the U.S. spreading the gospel of italian american writers, and can't find his way south of I-fucking-80?! Where were my people? Why hast thou abandoned me? And I too, reached the same conclusion bfp did---they aren't in much better a position I'm in. Which of course begs the question: what have you done lately, Lubu? Why aren't you that person? How much time does it really take to post, to link, to pass along those treasures? You also have knowledge. Will it die with you?

It's so hard to unlearn silence. Omerta. Silence has been, and continues to be, a critical form of protection, sometimes even resistance. Yet I continue to find my way....through the liminal spaces, along the margins. Dreamscapes, magical realism, archetypes, visions, speaking with/that/by that which is unseen. Simultaneously existing in different planes, with different names, chiaroscuro, music (of the spheres?), poetry, and the prose that reads just like it. Interwoven connections, the ties that bind, knotwork, rootwork, and realizing....

...that we have our place. And not where we were told it was. That our lives have meaning. Actually have meaning, a meaning that doesn't require approval. That our words do more than announce our presence, do more than bear witness...

They speak things into being.

Now that's power. And that is known. That's why slaves were kept illiterate on pain of death. That's why the Irish Penal Laws were enacted. That's why education is anathema to despots and their apologists all over the world. Language has an enduring power, far beyond the mostly tightly engineered structures. Keeping us silent steals our power. And when we are no longer silent? Stealing our words (ways of knowing, modes of expression, ideas, histories, bodies, land, mind).

I've said it before and I'll say it again: the myth of individualism is toxic. It is literally killing us. The myth of 'rationalism' being both unrelated to and trumping 'emotionalism' needs to go. And the myth that ideas fall like manna from the heavens, completely unrelated to the on-the-ground reality of women's lives....that has to go, too.

Awhile back, Rachel had a post about allies---about experiences that were likely to make a person an ally. When I read it, I thought, of course, and isn't it obvious, and thank-you Rachel for pointing out that study, so it can be made plain to people for whom it isn't already obvious. It was obvious to me, because that's how I spent my life: in approximating experiences. It started with white parents slamming the doors in my face when I asked if their kid could come out to play. Being called a "dirty mexican", because the bigots didn't have a framework for 'sicilian'. Having random whitefolks on the street tell me to ride my bike back to "my own neighborhood", because my presence was polluting theirs (and they spent "good money" to not have to put up with the likes of me....the quiet, good student, who at one time woudn't have said shit if she had a mouthful). But time went on, and I got tired of shit sandwiches ("sangwitches"). Got tired of being assumed to be dumb, 'cuz thankfully I at least knew better in that instance. And since this was the seventies, I looked to Black Power and the Civil Rights Movement for inspiration. Yeah, as a kid. Because there were reflections of that on the schoolyard, too. And the radio. But mostly....I talked to people, like kids do, about uncomfortable shit that can't be easily explained. I was fortunate enough to have people around me who were willing to talk. And to be frank: black people especially. (full disclosure: my upbringing was a weird combination of old-school "et-nick" and hippified. maybe not the most common mix, but not exactly uncommon for my generation).

Hell, in kindergarten there was a time the daycare bus came, but they kicked me off; saying my mom was coming to get me that day (it wasn't one of her regular off days). So I waited, but she didn't come---she was stone asleep at home from days of the third-shift with not enough sleep and slept right on through the alarm. But Somebody's Mother saw me, long after everyone else had left, and motioned me to the car. (I'd been taught not to talk to strangers, so I was hesitant---but she had one of my classmates with her, so I figured she couldn't be a kidnapper). Frankly, I was expecting an ass-chewing; I thought I'd catch hell for not going home, and what-the-hell was I doing there after school let out, and was I too stupid to find my way home, or something. I thought that woman was going to yell at me. But no, she asked if anyone was coming to get me, and if not, maybe I could ride home with them and call my mom from their house. And I thought: my mother is going to kill me if I don't wait for her and am I just going to get my ass kicked at their house?, because I was already familiar with the nicey-nice act of bullies who'd land on you with both feet once they got enough of their friends around.

But, I figured mom wouldn't come for hours, and it was chilly. And if I walked home (it was about three miles), I'd still get an ass-chewing, so I said yes. And the mother said: "I have to tell you something. We're Jewish." So? And a conversation started about bigotry against Jewish people. That mother felt she had to say something first. To a five year old. She didn't want her ass kicked, either.

Now think about that.

It's hard to break the silence. Feels like ripping off scabs. Or re-breaking an arm. Those wounds go marrow-deep, and aren't forgotten easily. Or ever. So, when I read about post-traumatic slave syndrome I recognize this naming/framing as part of a means for healing. Hyperindividualism teaches one to distrust compassion, turn away from empathy. Can't climb that ladder if you don't have the stomach for stepping on the fingers of others. Feminism even has a name for the particular manifestation women show towards those they'd like to forget are sisters---Queen Bee Syndrome.

Ahh yes, feminism. It took on special import for me when my body started to change during puberty. I was an "early developer". A skinny eleven year old with breasts. I started dealing with street harrassment, adult men asking me to suck their cock. And reactions from grown women---I once overheard a conversation in the laundry room of the apartment complex we lived in, between two women. About me. Talking about what a little slut I was, how they had heard I was having sex with some of the men in the complex (guys in their late twenties), how I'd end up a welfare mother. They couldn't see me, around the corner. My face burned and I bit my tongue to keep from calling them lying bitches---I'd get in worse trouble for that. It stunned me to think anyone would say that about me---I hadn't gotten an 'interest' in boys yet; they were kickball buddies, fishing buddies. I was all-the-way-live tomboy, to the point my lesbian aunt felt sure I was a baby dyke-in-training. But to these women, my body betrayed me---it had nothing to do with my actions. It burned rage into my very core, and at the same time....who the hell could I tell? My parents? Not on your fucking life; I'd never be let out of the apartment alone again. So, when I read Audre Lorde, telling of her mother's reaction when she complained about being unfairly slighted at school, it sounded familiar.

Familiarity. We're taught to silence that, too. But so it came about that my grade-school self drew parallels between racism and sexism, like I thought I discovered the common threads. I thought I was hot shit and cool. But seeing and dealing aren't the same thing. I didn't have much in my toolbox. I had anger. I had silence. I was intimately connected with my fight-or-flight response (you'll have that, growing up in an alcoholic home). So connected to that in fact, that I was successful at silencing from myself, too. Being dispassionate and cold. Stoic. Tough. And do you know, that the real horror---'cuz that's what it is---of that little story in the laundry room never occurred to me until I became a mother. That those women (I could tell by their voices, their body language, and my familiarity with their tone) actually believed I was having sex with adult men. And they never called the police. At the time, it only occurred to me to feel anger, and shame. It never occurred to me to feel compassion for myself. Never occurred that I should have had a better defense than my own hot, silent anger.

That's the silencing effect of internalized oppression. Turning up the heat on ourselves until we have the emotional equivalent of third-degree burns; dead nerves, charred synapses, nothing left to feel.

That's why being an ally is important. It's healing trauma. If I have any advice to give fellow or potential allies, it is this: recognize those approximating experiences of your own. Remember them viscerally. And hone your sensitivity to the point that when your sister or brother gets kicked in the guts, you feel the thud and taste the bile.

But remember, you haven't really felt the thud or tasted the bile. You just remember what that feels like. Your sister, your brother---that's the person who is traumatized. Re-living, bodily, old and current wounds. Wounds you can help heal. But you have to be there. You can't abandon them. What you have to abandon,

is your silence.

I love the music of Me'shell N'degeOcello. When Plantation Lullabies came out, that was in heavy rotation on my tape deck (yeah, I'm old. deal.) when I was working in St. Louis. It was my drive-time all-the-time tape for awhile. She has a poem on there that starts: "Her beauty cannot be measured with the standards of a colonized mind...."

That's really what ally-work is all about. Decolonizing your mind. In order to do healing work. Building work. Creative work. So....begin by being there. Fully present. Standing in collective integrity with your sisters and brothers. Shoulder to shoulder. Sweat on sweat. Don't worry about fucking up. You will fuck up. And then you'll fix it and move forward. We've got a saying in the building trades, "Do something!! Even if it's wrong!!!" usually barked at lazy apprentices caught with their hands in their pockets, or on the cell phone. The emphasis isn't on 'doing wrong'; it's just a tacit admission that when you're starting out, you will do some things wrong. We have another saying, "It's not a fuck-up if it can be fixed." Again, the emphasis is not on fucking up, but fixing. And remember, the impossible just takes a little longer, that's all.

In the meantime:

Her
beauty
cannot
be
measured
with
the
standards
of
a
colonized
mind

as she speaks her truth into being.

Tenure for Andrea Smith!

First, read the scoop from La Chola here and here (you may also want to take a look at this site by greater detroit, and visit the Campus Lockdown: Women of Color Negotiating the Academic Industrial Complex site concerning the March 15th conference (great list of speakers if you can make it!).

Then, limber up those typing fingers and send some emails! Here's the list:

• Teresa Sullivan, Provost and Executive Vice President for Academic Affairs, LSA; [email protected]


• Lester Monts, Senior Vice President for Academic Affairs, LSA; [email protected]


• Mary Sue Coleman, President; [email protected]


• [email protected]

Here's my letter:

Dear Ms. Sullivan,

I am writing to you in regards to the campaign for tenure for Andrea Smith. I feel that to deny Andrea Smith tenure would be a great loss to your university---a university that has already endured battles to keep affirmative action.

First, I am not an academic. I'm a blue-collar (journeyman electrician), Sicilian-American, forty-year-old single mother---probably the last person you might expect to be joining the effort for Prof. Smith, but there you go. Way back in what feels like another lifetime ago, I graduated with an Associates' degree at the age of eighteen. I didn't follow the traditional trajectory of community college students, but entered an apprenticeship instead. I never did lose my reading jones, though. I learned of the organized effort to support Prof. Smith in her tenure bid through blogs (most notably brownfemipower.com, a blog written by a U of M alum), but I was familiar with her work prior to that.

To me, what is most valuable about her work is how relevant it is outside the academy, and how accessible it is to nonacademics. I'm a survivor of domestic violence. The work in Color of Violence spoke to me, because I could instantly relate to how calling the police can cause more problems than it solves. Seeing a written acknowledgement of what mandatory arrest laws actually do "on the ground" (translation: women who attempt to defend themselves against their abusers get arrested too), knowing that there are people and organizations out there that recognize the limitations of the mainstream DV movement, knowing that there are people working towards a different framework, different solutions----that means the world to me. It means that maybe, if my daughter ever found herself in the position I found myself in, that she would be able to find the help I wasn't able to.

Articles like "Beyond Pro-Life versus Pro-Choice: Women of Color and Reproductive Justice" illustrate for me exactly why Reproductive Justice needs to be the framework---the sheer narrowness of "pro-choice" as the choice of whether or not a woman wants an abortion (as if everything else in our reproductive lives doesn't count), not to mention the consumerism inherent in the term "choice" (as if everyone has one)----again, it's work like this, inclusive work, that is so refreshing.

The Revolution Will Not Be Funded: Beyond the Non-Profit Industrial Complex is another extremely relevant book; I see many parallels between how nonprofits have taken the community out of community activism, and how business unionism has taken so much out of the life of the labor movement.

I especially like in this interview, that she said (in reference to a pointed question about accessibility of her work), "I don't think we should underestimate what people will understand." I wish there were more people in academia who had that level of respect for a nonacademic audience.

I hope that you and others and the University of Michigan consider the depth and breadth of her work, her social justice activism and community building, and her personal efforts towards the development of other women of color at U of M as scholars and activists. I don't know much about the tenure process, but I can't imagine Prof. Smith as lacking in any objective credentials. I would be interested in knowing the reasons why the Womens Studies department does not recommend her for tenure. Not knowing those reasons, all that I ask is that the objective record of her work and accomplishments be the standards by which her tenure bid is judged.

Meanwhile, I'm off to order a copy of Conquest: Sexual Violence and American Indian Genocide.

Thank you for your consideration,

See? Anyone can do it! Crack those fingers, get to typing, and if you need some talking points, just follow the list provided on La Chola's first post. Bacciddus!