Here I am, blogging and apologizing. Saying, I'm sorry I haven't been blogging more often. Here I am falling back on the excuse that I've been busy. Busy, busy, busy. Here I am claiming that being busy keeps me connected, keeps me aware, makes me feel like I'm contributing to life around me and weaving a thread between my own heartbeat and the drumming that makes the world go 'round. 

And here I am admitting that it's not (always) true. That sometimes, it's quite the opposite – staying busy helps me disconnect, helps me keep moving without pausing to consider how I'm moving, or why. It helps me feel productive, which can seem fulfilling when I convince myself that I value productivity more than being in touch with the fullness of my reality, including any uncomfortable feelings I'd rather avoid. 

For me, working and creating with dignity means being mindful about the work I'm doing, and being aware of all of my needs, even those I might be neglecting in any given moment by staying so busy. I'm thinking about what bell hooks wrote in Sisters of the Yam: Black Women and Self-Recovery: "[t]he practice of 'right livelihood' invites us to become more fully aware of our reality, of the labor we do and the way we do it." 

So here I am, pausing. Practicing "right livelihood" by taking a moment to think about how I can align my busy life with my dignity. 

We all deserve to work with dignity, which is one of the reasons I'll be marching tomorrow for May Day, also known as International Workers' Day. It's a day for uniting in solidarity with immigrant workers, to stand up for human rights and say no to criminalization. CUAV's contingent will be part of San Francisco's march, walking together as LGBTQ survivors and our allies. Join us, or find May Day events in your area. 

What does working with dignity mean to you? 

Want to change the world? Join a non-profit agency! At an organization full of compassionate visionaries dedicated to making the world a better place, nothing could possibly go wrong – right?

Okay, so nobody’s perfect, and no non-profit is the perfect agent for change. As you may know, some aspects of non-profits can be stressful, challenging, and even counter-productive to the ultimate goals of social change work. And that can be hard for me to hold, knowing that even people with the best intentions can contribute to creating obstacles in the way of true liberation.

Luckily, we now have some courageous folks to help us name what goes on in the wacky world of non-profits, through a new activist-artist group called Peacock Rebellion. And they’re doing it all with fun and sass, as well as a deep sense of hope in the power of true activism.

Peacock Rebellion is centered around queer and trans people of color, and the artists craft their work through lenses of intersectionality, interconnection, interdependence and transnationalism. These artists aren’t afraid to speak the truth about the dangers of a non-profit industrial complex that upholds problematic patterns and stifles activists' dreams.

The truth is, we don’t have to accept the problems of the non-profit world, even with the best intentions. As Peacock Rebellion founder Manish Vaidya says, “we can dream bigger.”

Our big dreams take center stage at Agen(c)y: Nonprofit Dreams + Disaster, Peacock Rebellion’s first cabaret. Twelve queer and trans people of color use comedy, film, burlesque and more to critique the current state of social change, and to share their freedom dreams. The tremendously talented performers include Lambda Literary Award winner Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, Deep Dickollective founder Juba Kalamka, and Mia McKenzie, of the revolutionary blog Black Girl Dangerous. In addition to the all-star performers and curators (Maya Chapina and Manish Vaidya), there’s an all-star line up of sponsors: INCITE, Mangos with Chili, POOR Magazine/Prensa POBRE, Queer Rebels, and QWOCMAP. In other words, a whole lot of fierceness has gone into this show.

Agen(c)y: Nonprofit Dreams + Disaster premiered last night to a packed house at La Peña Cultural Center, and tonight’s show is nearly sold out, so it may be too late to see it on this run. But don’t worry! We’ll be seeing much more of Peacock Rebellion’s amazing work. To find out more, you can visit their website or their Facebook page, and to offer your support, visit the Indiegogo page.

It's Labor Day. So to honor workers in labor movements and other tireless folks whose work never ends, here's a poem by Audre Lorde.


A Song for Many Movements
by Aurde Lorde

Nobody wants to die on the way
and caught between ghosts of whiteness
and the real water
none of us wanted to leave
our bones
on the way to salvation
three planets to the left
a century of light years ago
our spices are separate and particular
but our skins sine in complimentary keys
at a quarter to eight mean time
we were telling the same stories
over and over and over.

Broken down gods survive
in the crevasses and mudpots
of every beleaguered city
where it is obvious
there are too many bodies
to cart to the ovens
or gallows
and our uses have become
more important than our silence
after the fall
too many empty cases
of blood to bury or burn
there will be no body left
to listen
and our labor
has become more important
than our silence

Our labor has become
more important
than our silence.

You may know that I call myself an activist, and I believe in speaking up to create change. You may have also noticed that there are a number of activists speaking up throughout the country in a growing demonstration. So, have I been a part of #Occupy Wall Street? The simple answer is no, not yet.

I have to be honest - my initial impression of this movement to occupy Wall Street and other financial centers throughout the country was not good. Sure, I agree with their goals – setting aside, temporarily, the fact that there is no official list of stated goals. Word is that the protesters are against corporate greed, social and economic inequality, inadequate healthcare and education, and more, and they’re calling for the kind of social change that I would stand behind. So why haven’t I joined the demonstrations?

Well, first of all, I’ve been skeptical about this broad approach to creating change. I understand that all of these causes are interrelated, and to address one requires acknowledgement of the others, but I tend to believe that an action requires a stated goal and some kind of focus in order to effectively create change. “The end of corporate greed” seems too vague to me to state as an achievable goal.

Then again, the protesters may have a myriad of demands, but they seem to be having no trouble making them known. And rather than fizzle out due to a lack of focus, the demonstrations seem to be growing in size and influence. Was I wrong about them?

As an activist, I think it’s time to at least pay attention to what’s happening, to take note of what’s working and what’s still falling short. Clearly, one good thing is that at least the protesters are being heard. The demonstration is spreading, to more people and more cities, to everyone from celebrities to unions, and hopefully that means that somebody’s listening.

Will this create change, though? Perhaps only time will tell. One of my concerns is that the protesters’ declaration that “We Are the 99%” of those who are struggling dismisses the fact that there are some who don’t feel included in this movement. Protesters are speaking up about economic inequalities, so are they also addressing the racial and gender inequalities that contribute to these conditions? Some people of color say no. Many of the protesters have suggested that their feelings are “universal,” but as Kai Wright points out in this brilliant essay, “The problem with a universal framework is that what is dominant also gets called universal.” And without awareness of this, even those working toward the same purpose as I am can fail to see my perspective on the issue.

For me personally, one positive thing about observing all of this is that it’s given me a chance to step back and reexamine my feelings about approaches to activism. When considering art as activism, are stated goals and achievable demands required for a piece to be effective? Or is it enough to inspire hope and call for change, opening the door for whatever form that change may take?

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. For now, I’m going to keep reflecting, keep embodying activism as it works for me, standing in solidarity with those who are demonstrating, and hoping for this action to develop into tangible justice for all.