Remember those notes you passed in junior high ?
( yes, I said junior high. not middle school. )
( ages me, I know .... )
yeah, yeah .... those notes . . .
between girlfriends - boyfriends ... wanna-be-boyfriends. But some where down the line, one was always intercepted . nabbed by some saggy, scary study hall teacher ... and it was always a bad one ... either about making out, smoking weed, or cutting class. and shit hit the proverbial fan . .
those notes.
I am slightly uncomfortable with social media, and the forum it presents for discourse. particularly when it comes to those things that ... well, not-so-long ago ... would be done only face-to-face ... or over the phone for the passive aggressive approach.
we loose the nuances of expression, the non-verbal cues, the passion that lies underneath things .... and well. let's be honest .... I'm not one to shy away from confrontation ... I can say what I mean ... but am amazed how fucked up things get, and well, it's like those notes ... you just wish you had said less, more ... or said it better, not said it at all, or at least passed it thru Jordan instead of Karen . . somehow ... got it right.
but, every day , we see on blogs & fb ... the friend quarrel, the family squabble, the back & forth sniping between siblings or spouses.
we also rant from our sparkly pink unicorns ... pushing the visual or verbal envelope ... are we hoping to raise awareness, or are we merely strapped in on some virtual roller-coaster-mirror-ball-ego-ride.
I don't know ....
I like my pink sparkly unicorn ..
and
I think I can sometimes see a clear way to the balance, the clearest, brightest path.
but,
it has also bit me in the ass. words turned, and not heard. intent forgotten, or lost in the boiling of blood.
tonight, I am thinking about my father ... how he stood up to injustice & segregation. how he continually pushed me to be more, to take notice & pay attention. he was never a bully . . but he was Irish fierce with a poets heart ... a champion of the under-dog. a champion for me.
tonight, I am thinking about my daughter. she is not what she seems ... but ohhh so much more. she is beautiful, and irish-welsh fierce ( that's my mom showing up ! )
she is an artist at heart, and a champion of the under-dog.
tonight, she has grappled with a wing of the family over social media in a way that made me proud of her, breathless & stunned by her savvy, class & humor. she was succinct ... could not have said it better.
and i was simultaneously shocked, pissed and heart-broken over the way family continually allows their political or religious agenda to trump love.
I should quit being surprised by the behavior of people .... but I'm too busy riding my sparkly pink unicorn.
meanwhile, my daughter has become her own champion.
