Spring Cleaning

I've been feeling very angry the last few weeks—a noticeable increase from the "angry" of the last several months. My frustration has mounted to volcanic proportions so that I (at the time of starting this piece) have spent three days crying at the slightest inconvenience, screaming in my car, and throwing my fists at inanimate objects, hands shaking from clenching so tight. This isn't necessarily uncharacteristic of me, but it has been uncommon since I found my proper medication nearly ten years ago. What is it that has my therapized and medicated cool demeanor on such an edge these days? It might be easier to ask what doesn't, but I'll do my best to explain everything clearly.

It's politics. For me, when isn't it? This presidential election cycle has been particularly bad for everyone, though. Have you noticed? The tension is thicker than usual. People have been engaging with my political posts and conversations more, seemingly to shame me into compliance.

The onslaught of vitriol and calculated questioning I received from people online and IRL, which brings me to my current state of unrest today, seemed to begin after Israel announced its plans to invade Rafah. Biden's half-truth about such a move being some arbitrary line to cross set things in motion for people in my circles, for better or worse. He announced he would end shipments of weapons to Israel should they go through with such an invasion. Bibi did it anyway.

I had "lost my shit" (according to some) long before May 6th, 2024, wracked by grief and anger about this genocide, among other things. But it seemed as though that invasion and line in the sand from Biden became a moment where many of his supporters and "Vote blue no matter who" folks lost their collective cool. Perhaps that is when many realized Biden had no plans to stop this genocide or do anything but posture with a pause and then continue sending enough weaponry for Israel to carry on its onslaught. At that point, Israel had already dropped 75,000 tonnes of explosives in the Gaza Strip. That figure was from mid-April. It is now mid-July.

In June, Reuters reported that the U.S. was "discussing with Israel the release of a shipment of large bombs that was suspended in May over worries about the military operation in Rafah." On July 11th, Al Jazeera reported the U.S. would resume shipping the bombs as mentioned above, but only the lighter 500lb ones.

Maybe supporters and advocates of Biden realized he would likely lose the election this Fall. Or perhaps that came earlier during the wave of uncommitted votes during the primaries. I can't say for sure, but what I noticed after the ground invasion was more white liberal Americans begging me to stop posting about Palestine, to condemn Hamas, stop denouncing Biden, and vote for him in the election to "save us."

Who is 'us,' and what am I voting to save again? This is a loaded question for many people, myself included.

Let me explain what I mean.

I am white, so I have a shit ton of privilege in this country and world. Whiteness and (now) cis-passing privilege are, in fact, the only things that keep me safe in this society. That is a hell of a lot more safety than many people have, though, which is my point above.

However, the ways that I am Other vastly outnumber the identities I relate to that are considered normative and that protect me. I do carry a great deal of social power when people perceive me as a cis-straight man, particularly because I'm white. However, this isn't affirming for me. Let me reveal some more to you about myself. One, hardly anybody observing my stance or gait, outfits, or voice thinks I'm heterosexual. Strangers don't catch me in exchanges and walk away thinking, 'aggressively straight.'

Quite the opposite, they think, 'softly queer.' Or perhaps something vulgar, reductive, or diminishing, but I'm trying to imagine a kinder world.

Two, I usually don't let people think I'm cis or straight. The times I do are for safety or lack of time. For example, I haven't been correcting every micro-interaction that involves someone referring to me as 'sir,' 'boss,' 'bro,' or 'man' because I don't feel it's necessary or safe to shout after them as they carry on their merry way that I am not 'sir,' boss,' 'bro,' or 'man.' I am 'mx,' 'boss,' 'sib,' or 'divine spirit of this earth.' But also because I signal. Hard. As mentioned above, my typical clothing choices, mannerisms, and voice lead people to believe I am, at the very least, a cis-gay man. And people will see what they want to see.

Because my social power relies on people thinking I'm cis and straight, I generally don't have much. The little social power remaining from my enormous white privilege, I reject. I am learning new ways to do this daily and habituating myself to them so I speak, act, and live with anti-racist intention.

What's all this got to do with voting, though? Isn't voting a way to exercise one's voice, no matter one's social power?

Because of my race and class, voter suppression efforts don't impact my ability to hit the polls; regardless, voting within a structure that withholds social, political, and economic power from marginalized communities is akin to shouting after and correcting that dude who just 'bro'd' me. Did I use my voice? Yes. Did I make myself known? Sure. But did I also just put my life and livelihood at risk? Well, yeah. Because I know how unhinged things can get when people suddenly feel like they are in a position of power.

Don't get me wrong, I vote. And I'll likely keep voting. I'm just saying that I understand why people don't. It feels like a double-edged sword, a rock and a hard place; take your pick. Whatever you call it, it fucking sucks. And while we argue about and bemoan two candidates that are wings of the same bird, people are being murdered and maimed in our streets and abroad. So...

Think of it like this: on the one hand, you get to vote your values and speak your truth. That feels pretty good. On the other, no matter who gets in office, whether you voted for them or not, policy will be passed that screws you over. It's structural. And even if it doesn't directly impact your life, it likely adversely affects another marginalized group, which will inevitably ripple out to all of us. Having the rights of you and your loved ones constantly up for debate because your demographic is not considered normative, or a majority, or even the squeakiest wheel, is maddening. You are continually told to "wait your turn."

When I advised on policy for local democratic campaigns, I worked for a man attempting to unseat Carl Levin, a commendable goal. I was initially hired to consult and write policy regarding civil and human rights, foreign affairs, and LGBTQIA+ issues. It took a few weeks for the campaign manager and candidate to determine these weren't the platforms that would win votes. Several entirely wasted policy drafts later, I was starting over on infrastructure and education. These are still fascinating and essential topics, but they aren't what they hired me for.

I dabbled with judicial reform, but none of those policy suggestions gained traction either; it was the last issue being considered with a broad enough scope of reform to meet the needs of marginalized communities specifically. He didn't want to touch it. Even my proposals for education policy that attempted to address such neglected groups by expanding access to funds for some of our poorest districts were rejected. This was my first real indication that governance might not be entirely for the people.

So, you see how a person like me might come to the conclusion that voting for ol' genocide Joe just because he's not pussy-grabbin' Trump isn't as enticing of an option as you might think it is. If it talks like a fascist, makes policy like a fascist, and coerces votes with boogeymen and other logical fallacies like a fascist...

We've been in free fall toward this for quite some time now; Trump is just one of many pus-filled heads on the pubescent, pimply face of our country.

Here's why.

'Us' has never meant 'everyone' in America. Some scholars at Cambridge share my opinion that we are (as well as other European and North American countries) and have always been, in some capacity, an exclusionary populist state. What does that mean? There are in-groups and out-groups: "the pure people" and "the corrupt elite," for example, with understandings of who falls into these categories differing depending on who defines the terms. The exclusion can be material, political, or symbolic; the populism can be left or right-winged. If you want to know more about this political phenomenon, check out this source and the one above, which were very helpful to me when I was studying Populism in Latin America and the U.S.

While re-reading the articles to polish and more deeply inform this essay, they proved helpful again, reminding me of the unique power of in-group belonging. Not only the lengths people will go to achieve it but the special influence it has when politicians exploit it.

Anywho. If 'us' never meant 'everyone,' and my gender, sexual, religious, or other marginalized identities fall beyond the line of who gets policy made to protect them, then again, I ask if anyone would care to remind me what I'm voting to protect? Because right now, from where I'm sitting, it sounds like white people are just asking me to preserve interests related to our mutual whiteness.

Here is the larger point I want to make.

Self-preservation is a myth. I stumbled upon this conclusion while studying suicidality at the intersection of existentialist and Eastern philosophical traditions. I didn't challenge the thought much further, as it resonated strongly with me, but indulge me a bit longer and allow me to dig into it now.

The thrust of the debate is that the "self-preservation instinct" is a "folk-biological construct" and is generally accepted as false within the scientific community. However, it is still colloquially used and quite popular within our cultural understanding of "human nature." In a capitalist context, this cultural understanding is through the lens of individualism. Within a white supremacist culture like the one here in the United States, individualism serves a deliberate and specific purpose: to obscure the reality of systemic racism. It reduces the understanding of racism to be an individually enacted phenomenon, as opposed to the structurally engrained, culturally rampant, and policy-driven objective that it is.

The TLDR version is self-preservation supports individualism, which supports racism, which supports white supremacy.

You're concerned for yourself because you are conditioned to be by a racist society, not because of some evolutionary or biological predisposition.

I know people are afraid, but I beg you to examine yourself. What are you afraid of that someone else isn't currently enduring? Are you afraid that it's happening at all? Or are you afraid of that harm suddenly being directed toward you? If so, please put the same heart into your consideration of strangers as you do into your consideration of yourself and your family or friends. This is a challenging task; it looks a lot like loving. It is loving, and love is hard but oh-so-necessary. Hopefully, we can all at least agree to that.

It's hard enough to love ourselves, our family, and our friends; it is a great deal of pain to bear. I don't have any, but I imagine having children intensifies those fears and suffering, as well as our love. Much like David Foster Wallace wrote, "If you've never wept and want to, have a child."

Extending love to the world and everything in it means constantly having your heart broken. "The children are always ours..." James Baldwin famously wrote. When we love them all as deeply as we should love our own, it becomes impossible to look away from, excuse, or remain ignorant of the atrocities they endure. When we love a stranger as we should a trusted friend, we change our behavior towards them, acting out of kindness instead of fear. When we love the environment as we should a beloved elder, we act as stewards and students, not entitled conquerors.

This is why I "lost my shit" so long ago, to go back to that for a moment. Every aspect of our lives suffers in the gears of the systems that exist to dictate our lived experience with no actual interest in our suffering.

Yes, suffering is a human condition traceable throughout our documented history, at least during our time as a species in the polity. No, this doesn't sway me toward apathy, dispassion, or leniency in my critique of the status quo. I realize people operate within a political realist mindset, a prescriptive theory that essentially says "might (power) is right," and heads of state should accrue and exercise as much of it as possible. Preserving the state by any use of force necessary is the primary goal. Apathy and dispassion to this violence and control are conditioned over time by capitalism's conveniences. It affords the government our leniency and complicity. Our "tacit consent," according to John Locke.

I've been done with living dispassionately, obediently, and uncritically since I met with Indigenous Mayans in Guatemala. I saw firsthand what our government has done and continues to do in Latin America. I'm a loud gadfly now, making my unpopular opinions known. I usually have tough conversations and needle carefully through conflict with those who disagree with me politically. I have been feeling the strain, though.

These conversations or conflicts occur more regularly during presidential election years. They always do, but this year has been particularly trying, as I started this essay saying. I'm angry and tired of being told to explain myself. I am tired of being told to speak. It's your turn now.

An old college buddy of mine asked me the other night how I have had the courage to vote for anyone other than the 'lesser of two evils' within the two major parties. We studied international affairs together and walked away with a similar understanding of the education we received. Or so I thought. So I tangled together a reply that could be more concisely stated as "Unchallenged systems go unchanged," and then expressed my commitment to reject protection or promises if they weren't for everyone. She gave a reply related to "trickle-down" human rights (you are correct; that is not a thing) and said something along the lines of still having hope in our system sorting itself out. Another variation of "wait your turn."

I have so many words for this (nearly 3,000) and practically zero bandwidth left to express them other than in writing. So, forgive the rant, but I've been working on this for a few weeks. I also needed to make time for the writing I don't care about but that has the potential to make me money–the omnipotent dollar that determines my quality of life in this society. My frustration with that is for another essay, but trust me when I say it is all connected.

In the meantime, please read this incredible poem by the talented and raw Oneg, which so brilliantly resonated with my fury and fatigue that I had to share it here with this piece. Thank you for allowing me to associate your thoughts with my long-winded release, Oneg. Your solidarity is earnest and appreciated.