Catchall
Wow, it’s been a while since I last updated, hasn’t it? I blame school. Not the massive amount of schoolwork I’m doing, but the massive amount of procrastinating on the tiny amount of schoolwork I’m not doing, which leaves me completely distracted and twitchy all the time. Not good blogging weather, in other words. Not good anything weather, really: I’ve been having trouble sleeping again, and the last novel I read took me a few weeks to finish. It’s almost like my attention is divided. Like there’s something I should be doing . . .
Two days ago I went to a party (my ex’s birthday party, to be exact) where half of QUAC showed up, and I got to see most of the people I swim with a) clothed and b) drunk for the first time. I’ve avoided QUAC-related social events because I’m not really comfortable around crowds of people I don’t know, and that goes double for crowds of gay men. (My old therapist was working with me on that, but we never entirely resolved the issue.) Maybe I will go to more of these parties in the future, now that I know I won’t come home dead drunk, naked and/or crying. And maybe I’ll actually get to know some people from QUAC on more than a “Uh, hey, what’s up?” basis.
Anyway, we worked on the breast stroke today. There are a group of people who coach at QUAC, on a rotating basis, and this was the first time I had done breast stroke with this coach. As usual, her description and instructions were completely different from every other coach (this reminds me strongly of the challenge of being taught dance by different people), but the main difference was: I GOT IT. “Her” way of doing breast stroke was much more physically demanding than what I was used to, but it also made complete sense to my body. For the first time, I felt like I was actually swimming when I did breast stroke, instead of floundering in place. So that was nice.
My Twitter followers may have noticed that I attended something called “The 5th Annual People’s Summit on Poverty” a week ago, and one of the reasons I’m so late in posting anything is that I’m working on a post about that. Specifically, about the issues that were discussed and the statistics that were presented.
One of the things that drives me the most nuts about right-wing rhetoric in this country is how blatantly selfish and punitive it is. Even if the words used are conciliatory or loving (though usually they are not) the tone and the implications scream
“Help yourself. It’s your fault if you have problems. It’s your fault if you aren’t middle/upper-middle class. I worked hard for my money. You need to suffer the consequences of your actions, even if it means you die. I’m against any government action that doesn’t unilaterally condemn behavior I disapprove of, even if it means people die or get deadly diseases and remain uneducated about how to help themselves. . . . etc., etc.”
So I am very interested in counteracting this kind of thinking both through public education and through political/legal activism. Which is why, when I noticed that my cousin Bill was organizing the Summit, I immediately put it on my calendar, and that morning took two buses to get to there. Everyone involved in anti-poverty or anti-hunger initiatives in Salt Lake knows Bill, so at these kinds of functions I almost feel like I’m related to a celebrity. For a few hours I become “Bill’s cousin,” an identity I’m proud to claim. I only wish I were as quick to devote my time and talents to social justice as he is.
Expect a post on poverty and hunger initiatives in Utah. If you aren’t into that sort of thing, you can skip it. It won’t hurt my feelings. Just know that God loves those who help others. Think about it.
