kids are calli… remove the language of courtship and desire lest we appear invested somehow in other human beings. To even acknowledge that there might be an emotional dimension to talking or dating or hanging out or coming over or fucking or whatever the kids are calling it all these days feels forbidden. It is a game of chicken where the first person to confess their frustration or confusion loses.
…when their uncle inserted, “Build the wall!” into the pre-Thanksgiving grace but they said nothing. Because white people choose maintaining comfortable relationships with their racist friends and family members over calling out racism pretty much every time.
In the best possible scenario (for you), you win the day and drive all the undesirables out, and then turn to your brethren to celebrate, realizing that not many openings in “CEO” or “conservative journalist” or “neo-masculinity life coach” have been created as a result of a brother dying in action, so now you get to work the Applebee’s you just liberated for the master race. You realize that service jobs aren’t worthless, but instead pushed on those society deems as worth less, just as you’re shot or deported for taking leftover babyback ribs to feed your family because you vowed to make America “great” not “economically equitable” again. You never learn how to butterfly a shrimp.
….” Not because I’m not either of those, but because it doesn’t mean what other people think I mean. What is writing if not a means of mucking up language and syntax and fusing words to create new sound to better illustrate a lived experience rarely verbalized?
I was in a nonfiction workshop when my professor began mocking me for using too many words. I was writing about what it means to be both queer and mixed, and to constantly feel in-between and invalidated by language and mainstream understanding of identity. My professor was frustrated by my refusal? Inability? to “just say what I mean.” To be simple. Why complicate everything? If the only power I have as a writer is my pen, why muck things up by beating around the bush? I was flustered and unable — literally, as is the workshop model — to explain that I am found solely in the “around the bush area,” not within the bush itself.