Sunday, November 16, 2008

We Took to the Streets of San Francisco

One of the big fallouts of the recent elections was the passing of a California proposition outlawing equal rights for gay couples. Today marked at least the third major public demonstration decrying the outrage of over Prop 8.

If you've never taken part in a political action or demonstration, you might be surprised at the beauty of such an event. Though I don't watch much news and don't get bogged down in mass media descriptions of "reality", preferring to deal and interpret my own first hand experience, I understand that oft times media portrays demonstrations as dangerous unruly events. In fact, I remember several years ago mentioning to a woman that I was going to attend a peace rally, and she remarked, "Isn't that dangerous? I've seen on the news how dangerous it is?" I laughed and replied that no, in my experience such events were largely peaceful, community building events. How could peace mongers really be dangerous? war mongers, yes... but peace mongers? I've always felt safe, at least from the crowd. The crowd is a community that crosses lines of race, age, gender, and orientation. Sure there are sometimes a few participants that lean towards violence. Naturally, I wouldn't lean towards marching with such groups or individuals, which are usually few and far between. The only thing that has ever intimidated me at such demonstrations is the law enforcement agents who sometimes line the street with guns. News likes to sensationalize and I guess people prefer watching drama rather than the constants of peace and joy.

The stigma of protests amuses me because our country was founded on Civil Disobediance when our forefathers staged the Boston Tea Party and started the "American Revolution." I'm sure if the British had our modern day rhetoric, we'd have been deemed terrorists. Likely the Native American Tribes would have put a similar label on us. At any rate it amuses me when our country which espouses free speech and personal freedom tends to look down when such things are put into practice. Dissenting opinion and forum is the mark of democracy. Unification, and squelching free speech begets dictatorships and fascism. The sensationalization of the dangers of the protests amuses me because my experiences at such events has never felt dangerous.

My experience in political demonstrations goes back to quite a number of San Francisco events, mainly the peace rallies and pro-bicycle rallies of the last seven years. My own semantics and view is that I do not march in any "anti-anything" marches, but rather "pro-something" marches. To me being anti anything only begets judgement, violence, and hate. This very morning a friend, another gay man, said he wasn't interested in doing a protest at City Hall today as he felt like we'd be preaching to the already converted here in San Francisco. He'd rather do some protests at some of the Churches that have chosen to spend money in judgment, rather than live unconditional love. I have little interest, myself, in doing a protest at a Church. I'm a live and let live kind of guy. I honor a Church's political right to exercise it's free speech.

When I march I prefer to be a living example of what I march for. Usually, I dance along the streets, singing, chanting, and doing some energywork. I remember one of my first experiences at a public demonstration was in an "anti-violence" march in Brooklyn ten years ago that protested murderous hate crimes that had taken place there. The magic of the Radical Faerie contingent that I marched with greatly impressed me. Our "troupe" drummed, chanted, danced, and paraded huge puppets. Our energy was directed to being our joyful selves and sharing our performance along the streets. That struck me as much more powerful political action than being angry and screaming.

Today, in San Francisco, tears welled up in my eyes as I appreciated our amazing country and it's gifts in the world. Not that we are better than others; rather each country has it's own gifts and beauty to share with the world. And, yet, I fully appreciate the individual freedom we have here. I've seen a bit of the world, and the overall freedom to be ourselves here, is something I don't see in other countries. The flip side is that our community and family structure have deteriorated while we learn how to create family and community more unconditionally, rather than based on blood relations and strict social custom.

I wandered into our city's center in front of City Hall. My eyes roamed the crowd. Children, families, grandparents, gays, bisexuals, lesbians, transgendered people all greeted my eyes. A "Victory Garden" adorned the ground in front of City Hall. Some group brought in soil and created a collage of beautiful garden beds over the pavement. Spirals of corn and sunflowers, along with circles of kale, created a visual delight that smelled of the good earth. The produce from the garden goes to the local Food Bank.

I drifted away from the ranting on the podium towards an adult tricycle which blasted out dance tunes from a portable sound system. A straight guy had brought it. He danced with his girl friend. A small group of bystanders clicked up their heels and danced to the grooves. I joined in. I always love dancing in the outdoors. A slightly overweight, bearded guy in his early fifties grooved under a sunhat and glasses. His energy combined with his myth busting look... he was no disco twink boy... drew smiles from the immediate crowd. A rolly polly black guy twirled a baton with the music. Being a living example of love spoke louder than words about "family values".

Shortly, I heard the beat of a drum cadence and saw movement along Polk Street that indicated a march was starting. I drifted away from the dance towards the beating drums, the magic of their beat beckoning me to join in. I walked quickly along the sidewalk passing the multitudes in the street and caught up with the drum corp as the march entered Market Street... the heart and thoroughfare of the city. As we stepped into Market Street, tears welled in my eyes, appreciating the community, the freedom, and how far our country has evolved from the idea of civil liberty for all, to the embodiment of it. Not that we are entirely there, but we've come a long way. I cried for all the places I've been over the years that haven't been so supportive of who I am as a modern day fag. I cried for all the people who face unspeakable judgments and terrorist actions for being or trying to BE who they are. The march took over the opposing lane of traffic so that we were marching a living example of GLBT Pride, which struck me as being perhaps more powerful than the annual corporate pride event... because this one was grassroots, spontaneous, and based on the hearts of many individuals sacrificing their time and efforts.... and based upon people standing up and doing something for what they believe in.

I reflected as I marched on how the real political action is our day to day lives. Where we spend our money. How we commune with our neighbors. In the broader scope, our country's political action is how it lives in the world. Are we democratic in the world? Are we peaceful in the world? Our actions speak larger than our lip service. I remembered years ago reading a Wendell Berry account of Harlan and Anna Hubbard, who lived a simple life for years, according to their beliefs. They eeked out a life on land along the Ohio River, with a garden and small heard of goats. They lived without electricity. Across the river a nuclear power plant was due to be built. Wendell wondered a bit about why Harlan and Anna weren't attending the protests. Then he realized they were living their protest. They weren't supporting the nuclear power plant one iota with their off-grid lifestyle. There was no need for them to travel miles by car to wield signs with slogans. Myself, I think there can be a place for both kinds of action, though I feel the real heart is in our day to day lives.

And today as I marched I realized the real political action was taking place across the San Francisco Bay, where a household of Radical Faeries.... queers... have taken in a dying member of our tribe. A youthful, mid-aged man, who is succumbing to cancer, his hip disintegrated by cancerous cells. A circle of friends has gathered from all over to support this household in their task, and to show their love for this man. I visited yesterday to lend my Reiki hands to the hospice. I walked into the dying man's room to find him surrounded by a half dozen friends, acquaintances, caregivers, love-givers. Some held their hands up channeling loving energy while others used feathers and shamanic traditions to help the man in his journey to the other world. Over the course of the afternoon, twenty to thirty people came through. There were about eight people from Portland and Seattle, devoting days to supporting both the man and his caregivers. Other than the man's niece, these were all friends and acquaintances, rather than blood relatives.

One of the main caregivers practically defies description based on American norms. A woman, with green hair, large facial piercings, a tattooed mustache and beard facilitates the hospice care. She's done this work for years. She negotiates with the hospitals and the medical speak. Somehow she cuts through the crap and deals with the medical bureaucracy. The funding is grassroots based on donations.

Only a week ago, the local community held a memorial service for John Burnside, one of our most influential gay elders in the Radical Faerie subculture. Together with his partner of forty some years, Harry Hay, he inspired a lot of growth and evolution in creating heart based, "subject-subject", queer, grassroots culture that celebrates the uniqueness of each individual, rather than status quo and clone culture. For nine years a circle of care givers supported John and Harry in their elder years, providing medical liason, elder housing, company, and community. They also held fundraisers. One of the things that struck me most from John's service was the story of his macular degeneration that quickly reduced his eyesight to a peripheral kaleidoscope. When asked how he felt about the condition, John replied, "Oh what a grand adventure it is! to see the world in a new way."

The legacy of Harry and John includes that we have found the power to come together and form circles of care for our sick and dying that stems from outside corporate insurance, and beyond blood lines. With our migratory habits and breakdown of traditional community structure, the impact of our potential create family and community wherever we are, is a grand political statement.

That we have come so far that a proposition such as Prop 8 was nearly divided in yays and nays, truly speaks how far we have come in the years since the Stone Wall Riots. That a green haired woman with facial piercings and tattoos can walk the streets and society in relative safety speaks much about personal freedom and non-judgment. Progress has also not been linear. While Prop 8 narrowly passed, personal freedoms took a marked downturn the past decade with some of the anti terrorist legislation which undermined "due process". The country is growing a evolving, learning by both trial and error... unless of course you can label something terrorist... than you can leave out the trial. We're learning, we're changing, hopefully evolving!

At any rate, it strikes me how much we owe our ancestors for what we have achieved.

You can see a video of today's march by one of my friends at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWASpisjCp8

And here is a commentary on Prop 8:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVUecPhQPqY

Here views of the National/International Protest from Nov 15 all over the world:
http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Protest Against California Prop 8: National Action

There have been massive protests in SF and across the nation about Prop 8 which was against same-sex unions. Moved to tears of joy, I watch thousands march the streets of San Francisco last Friday evening. It makes me so proud to be an American that we have the rights of free speech and what democracy and freedoms we have left in the USA.

You can exercise your right to free speech and support same sex rights and civil unions by showing up at your local city hall this coming Saturday. People have even been showing up to support this in Salt Lake City!

http://protest8sf.wordpress.com/2008/11/08/join-the-impact-national-day-of-protests-nov-15/

Thursday, November 06, 2008

City by the Bay

I've been in San Francisco two weeks now. Seems like forever as it most always does once I've arrived someplace. The last place fades from my mind as I immerse myself in the present.

Prior to San Francisco, I spent three weeks in Tennessee at a queer commune where I've visited regularly for 11 years now. Friends from all over meet there for gatherings at a commune that hosts us "Radical Faeries" for days of ritual, frolicking, and heart circles. Last time I was there was 3.5 years ago before my first trip to S.E. Asia. A second trip to Thailand and India last year, interspersed with stints all over the U.S. gave me a lot to integrate and try to share with friends. So many rich, vibrant, and oft intense experiences have happened in those 3.5 yrs. I enjoyed the growing community as people from all over the US have gradually bought land and built homes adjacent to the commune. Recently a member of the community bought a 300 acre farm 4 miles away so that the local community could have a place to explore/create/experience farm endeavors without having to leave the community. (Much of the other land is wooded and steep). I enjoyed revisiting the realm of farming that I enjoyed in my past. I got to drive a team of mules and work a ten acre piece up with a tractor and sow it to a rye/vetch cover/green manure crop. What a marvelous meditation.

I rather reluctantly left Tennessee on 21Oct on my prebooked flight to San Francisco. It seemed my prayers for recentering and regaining my full power finally integrated as I boarded the plane. I spent the flight feeling "enlightened" in a bubbly state of peace, trust, and joy. The mystical wanderer in me bubbled up, over, and through me. I was glad I had trusted my intuition and resisted clinging to Tennessee.

Roaming in San Francisco found me feeling more at home than most any place I've been in a while. San Francisco welcomes everyone of all cultural diversities. Finally I no longer stood out like I had in other countries or on the "other coast" of our own. The ethnic communities here trigger memories of my travels. I found my favorite soap from India in and Indian store. And the vegetables in the Asian markets reminded me of culinary favorites from abroad. The hum and rhythm of S.E. Asian dialects, or those of Indians made me feel almost like I was "there". I passed a passel of Asian youth on a sidewalk and felt for a moment like I was in Thailand. I'd never fully realized how such a multicultural city as San Francisco can prepare you for a trip abroad.

My friend Topsoil took me and a friend to the beach, where we walked a labyrinth barefoot. I giggled and wondered how I ever managed the barefoot pilgrimage in Bihar, India, last year. The sea of memories flooded me in a presence and present awareness of time collapsing... all my travels... my history merging into oneness, as the sea, the mighty Pacific swirled below our perch on a cliff. I felt as if I never quit being the mystical wanderer that i felt so strongly I was on my first trip to India with my Aussie metaphysical mate in 2005. The Pacific beckoned me to dive in or over and roam westward again. Hawaii had been on my mind as a winter retreat. I felt reaffirmed in what I imagine as my life's calling to continue wandering the earth.

That evening I went to the St. James Infirmary, a clinic where I worked for many years, to get some acupuncture and a check up. There were new faces that recognized me not. Finally, a woman I knew came out and shrieked, thrilled to see me. Soon others followed. And I felt a San Francisco homecoming. She said she felt so good to know that I was out wandering the world embodying trust and abundance. That happens to be my vision of course, but I oft find myself stuck in my fears rather than transcending them. It was nice to know someone else saw the vision, and I realized that indeed I was living it, though being a bit hard on myself. I got a great acupuncture treatment and felt good to be "home".

Halloween took me to China Town to see one of my best friends brothers play with his band. I enjoyed being in China town and appreciated the feel of it, like a mini trip to the Far East. My friend has been living in Berlin for over a year, and I was glad to catch him while he was stateside for a visit.

I ran into friends and acquaintances and feel held in loving arms of this city. On Nov 2, I marched in the Day of the Dead Procession in the Mission district. The Procession is a Hispanic tradition of honoring the dead on this day when the veil between the earthly and spirit worlds is said to be thin. People of all persuasions marched, many carrying candles to honor one they lost to the dead this year. There were drumming groups, and chanting groups, and silent walkers. Most wore the tradition black and painted their faces while with skeleton like embellishments. I'd forgotten what a moving event this was as the thousands marched along the streets in a route that would take us to a park where altars had been set up. Candles, pictures, sculptures, adorned the park. Some wept. Some laughed. It's both a celebration of life and grieving of loss. I prayed for my Uncle and invoked his spirit as one of my losses during the year. I noted how this event mimicked some of the pilgrimages I'd done in India. Except in this one I blended in. I knew the language. And I could wear shoes. I wished I could share the beauty of this event with my own family.

On Election Eve I joined friends at a post yoga class potluck and viewing of Saturday Night Live's Election Program. Many of my friends there had been in India in recent years, and it was a moving reunion to be together again and know that we had tales to tell that we could relate to.

I worked a clinic shift doing Reiki on Election Day, having mailed my absentee ballot in some time ago. After work, I did some errands and about 8pm started hearing sounds of celebration. Loud whoops. Occasional drums. I overheard people saying "it's over. Obama has won." I got home at 9 pm, tired. I didn't plan to go out. But the vibration of joy reverberated through the city and wouldn't let me rest. I heard soundbytes of celebration and finally went out and found the streets full of celebration. Smiles and music filled the air. I wandered into the Castro, which is revered as the heart of queer community in San Francisco. And found the street closed off for a celebration. Obama was on a big screen and the street was packed full of dancing revelers. Tears of joy came to my eyes as I realized how hard the last 8 years have been on "the community" here.And how much face the US lost in the world, how much our economy has suffered as we have ignored what has been going on within our borders. How we have not chosen to promote world democracy by not being democratic in the world. I realized how easy my political choices are being gay... how could I vote for someone that sees me as second class? ... and being mindful of what we are leaving for our future generations how we trod upon this Earth?

I learned that San Francisco's voters were 85% in favor of Obama. No wonder the city was afire in celebration! No wonder I never remembered witnessing such glee after other elections. The glee was bittersweet, as a proposition allegedly passed that will prohibit same sex couples from having the rights of marriage. Not that I'm necessarily in favor of legislating religious doctrine, but it seems only logical that partners of civil unions ought to have the right and abilities to create their households together and enjoy such privileges as riding in an ambulance with their loved one. I find it ironic that much of the heat comes from people who supposedly adhere to religion that espouses non-judgement and unconditional love.

Meanwhile I'm enjoying the freedom and creativity of this beautiful city.