Helens

I really, really don't want
unicorn frappacinos, tiny dogs, large sunglasses, caramel highlights,
and being blatantly, even gleefully, out of touch with politics to be the sum and whole of white girl culture
As if it's a badge of honor
The faces that launched a thousand memes, with no true concept of our own contributions to the political war raging around us

When I say "political" my inner debutante just shudders and swoons and threatens to have a case of the vapors if I don't change the subject right this instant

but when I say politics, I mean life
I mean
Water
Land
Food Deserts
Global Warming 
Trans-Rights
Equal Pay for Equal Work
Statutory Limits on Rape

When I say I want to talk politics with you, I'm really saying
Can we talk about reality, Helen?
Can we talk about emotional labor?
About the fact that I was sexually harassed on my way here?
The Israeli/Palestinian conflict and US funding?
Can we talk about your preferred pronoun?
Euro-centric beauty standards?
Pre-existing conditions?
Your sister's sexual assault?
The avocado problem?
As uncomfortable as this makes you,
(and, no, it's not confusing)
can we talk about how Black lives actually fucking matter?
Can we talk about building walls, Helen?

'Cause I got your wall right here, sister
It's called my skin, my back, my bones
It's a pale wall and smells vaguely of Pumpkin Spice Lattes,
but I'm not letting you past me until we discuss this
'Cause we cannot separate politics from living
as much as we may want to

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Confession (or A Ways from Caramel Apples)

I must confess, I used to be anorexic. I figured now would be a good time to just lay that out on the table. Being a hiccup away from 25 is bringing a lot of things to light. I've never shared this in such an open way, but today seems like a good day. Between the age of 13 and 14 I barely ate anything at all and exercised sometimes over 6 hours a day. Unfortunately, this unprecedented surge of "self control" and "dedication" was met with more praise than alarm. I am the perfect storm of components that make up a person who develops this disorder. Some of those components are dark and personal; I won't be sharing those here. However, I did want to talk about expanding. Ironic, eh? Someone who once dedicated herself so completely to disappearing now wants to discuss actually taking up space in the universe. Lately, I've been desperate to feel some growth- legitimately growing up, with all the attendant responsibilities and heartaches thereto. My poem Ra...
Read more

ChocolateSushiCouture- Photo shoot, Spring 2009

Image
I never thought that on a rainy spring day I would be in a studio in downtown Chicago with a cute little assistant shyly rubbing bronzer into my legs. He was so shy, in fact, that he couldn't continue up to my thighs. (A fact made obvious later when my skirt hiked up and the skin was pale enough to blind Helen Keller.) Nor did I think that I'd have an exuberant stylist (see below) with his hands up said skirt, and down my shirt as well. ("Don't worry honey, this means nothing to me.") Ah, it's a good life I discovered just a scant few months ago. My friend, plus-size model Teslyn Butler , who I met at a commercial shoot, recommended me to a local designer named Niehla Ollie who was in dire straights for a Caucasian, curvy model. After sending a few snapshots through email, Niehla agreed to use me for a small photo shoot. I was folded into an enthusiastic embrace in her apartment and immediately put into make-up while I learned the basic ins-and-outs of plus...
Read more

Phoenix Song

the story of the phoenix doesn't mean much when it's told over and over again but no one stops to plan it means you gotta die no roll of the dye you have to choose to die in order to live again we keep talking of ashes and flames but it's just games until someone grabs the torch and makes the choice to expeditiously expand their own demise in order to move beyond simply surviving the story of the phoenix is bloody and lonely the song of the phoenix is melancholy and wondrous but we speak so easily of such things as if putting your Self on the altar is no mean feat no force no remorse your choice your voice screeches higher as flesh and blood sizzle away in self made fire cracked tears and dried lips praying you weren't wrong praying you'll wake up on the other side on the inside when the song of the phoenix cries better say goodbye 'cause swim or burn sink or fly either way you're gonna die
Read more