Posts Tagged ‘authoritarian oppression’
Utmost Avoidance
The extreme level of distress I’m feeling over witnessing the election of an authoritarian government led by such a jerk alerts me to my white male heterosexual privilege. I dared to hope. I assumed that an overwhelming majority of people in this country would choose the ethical leader and preservation of our democracy.
I am so aghast over the implications of having all the threats made by the Republican candidate for US President now able to be acted upon; it has me uncertain about how to cope.
That’s when it occurs to me that this is how it must always feel for the many oppressed people for whom this is just another Thursday. Generations of unjustly marginalized people have succeeded in carrying on in the face of enslavement, or their nation’s people being forced onto reservations or forced into internment camps, denied housing, denied jobs, and prohibited from loving whomever they choose.
At my first job after tech school, I discovered I had been lied to about a base salary. I quit on the spot. I knew I would find another job, a better job. I cold-called a company and was given an offer after one interview. No one ever hindered my ability to get a loan and buy any of the homes in the places I chose. No one follows me around a store, watching my every move. I’ve never been harassed or threatened on the street for the way I look, how I wear my pants or who I choose to love.
There is an SNL skit depicting the 2016 election night reactions of a group of white people in an apartment with Dave Chappelle (and eventually, Chris Rock) reacting; the majority being oblivious to their privilege, Dave and Chris commenting in ways that show the comparison of their perspectives and revealing the clueless viewpoints of the others.
I don’t mean to diminish the truly threatening prospects of allowing small-minded people to take control of our entire country. I don’t want my shock over the election results to dishonor others who have been living under unjust discrimination of any flavor throughout lifetimes.
It is what it is. I am resisting the urge to put up a billboard-sized sign on the back of a semi-trailer with a curse word in front of you-know-who’s name or “Not My President” like the ones that have soiled Wisconsin landscapes for the past four years, but I realize we need to be better than that.
I really do want to offer respect for those who have maintained their dignity throughout generations of oppression and rise above vindictive antagonisms at this point. As long as Cyndie and I are able, we will guard our precious property from rancor and resume cultivating peaceful and loving energy, which we will beam out into the world like a beacon of goodness for others to find and absorb.
If something happens in the news that we need to know about, we trust friends and family will let us know. Otherwise, we have decided to aim for the utmost avoidance of all news media. Luckily, we can still safely watch “Shrinking.”
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Tempting Fate
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen Cyndie carry this cracked bucket by the handle with around 20 pounds of water in it. As often as possible, I question her confidence in the reliability of the cracked plastic.
I wince at her usual response. “It hasn’t broken yet during all the other times I’ve used it.”
Yesterday morning, I asked her how upsetting it will be when that fractured plastic finally gives out and a bucketful of water spills all over her legs and boots. That is so not a risk I would take.
During my evening shift in the barn, I noticed the bucket hadn’t been returned to the usual spot near the spigot by the back door. She had placed it on this shelf in an apparent new adjustment of her risk acceptance.
We’ve got other perfectly intact buckets available for use, so there’s no need to keep using the cracked one.
I missed an opportunity to have “Santa” bring us a replacement bucket for Christmas this year.
I’m not entirely immune to taking risks, but I feel like they are less tangible. I don’t know why but I have a recurring urge to troll the Chinese Communist Party because of their overwhelming effort to squelch reality when it doesn’t align with their oppressive authoritarian agenda.
I know they can counter any U.S. questions about their human rights abuses by pointing out our history of slavery and attempts to destroy indigenous people’s culture, but that isn’t a fair comparison. The U.S. doesn’t deny those things happened and allows discussion on the topics.
From what I have read, the communist government of China doesn’t allow mention of the “Tank Man” and the violent crackdown on protests in Tiananmen Square in 1989. If no one can talk about it, that’s supposed to make it so that it never happened.
Now that I’ve gone and written those words, I suppose my risk of being hacked just went way up.
I blame CBS “60 Minutes” for their wonderful interview with self-exiled Chinese artist, Badiucao. I got inspired by his courageous activism in the form of creative art that speaks truth to power. Maybe it was because he has used Winnie-the-Pooh with Xi Jinping’s image.
Regardless, I should probably restrict my truth-speaking efforts to attempts of convincing Cyndie she shouldn’t trust the bucket handle not to finally give out just because it never has before.
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Relative Something 