Where The Fuck Have You Been?
I’ve Been Healing Bitch, What The Fuck Do You Think I’ve Been Up To?
When I first wrote “White women need to accept responsibility…” I didn’t realize just how many white women I was going to anger. A lot of the comments either fully agreed with me, or told me that I was wrong in as many varieties as the rude ass dictionary allows.
That’s fine, I’m used to rude comments, but that’s not why I am writing this essay today. I took a break after writing a few more essays after that one, because I needed to breathe and really think about what it is that I wanted to say.
This Sunday is Pride in my hometown of Surrey, BC. A place where I have been loved, hurt, lost, and won all kinds of weird and cool shit. A place filled with men who abused me. Men who have taken it upon themselves over the years to show up at Pride, just to remind me, they haven’t forgotten either.
This year I’m wearing black. Specifically to honour every single person who wants to be at Pride, but for whatever reason can’t be. Sure, I’ll sparkle it up and dress up all pretty and cute, but I’ll also be there for a purpose.
It’s my job to hand out love letters that remind folks they deserve to be loved, that remind folks, someone out there is thinking, “I hope someone who needs this gets this.”
Sure, every year at Pride, there are the abusers, the denouncers, and the Rabbis, Priests, and men of God who inevitably yell about us all going to Hell, but they never fail to go largely ignored.
For many years, I used to yell back, I used to get angry, but now I just roll my eyes. I no longer spend my time arguing with random strangers about whether or not God loves me. I decided a long time ago that I kinda dig myself, and even though I have many parts to myself, all those parts are pretty cool when you put them together.
This year, I am going into rebellion. I am going for the disabled people who can’t get out of bed, or find the event inaccessible, I am going for the Queer kids who aren’t out of the closet, and I am going for all my friends who passed away, died, or were murdered throughout this past year, of which there were sadly many of each.
I’m tired, and I don’t want to go to Pride and “Celebrate,” I want to rage, scream and throw bricks. But I calm myself with the reminder that many a Queer before me threw bricks so I don’t have to.
They paved the way so that I could come out of the closet, attend Pride with my family in tow, and be happy to be there, whether I want to be or not. I know that my presence there is important.
It’s part of a larger movement, and it’s my yearly reminder that there are people worth fighting for. It’s the fuel I need to keep going on days when I feel like giving up would be better.
It’s a reminder that “I” as an individual, non-binary or otherwise, deserve to exist, present, and happy, free of the disillusionment that white supremacy, zionism, and nazism provide to the world.
I know that it’s important for all of us to show up, but I also realized and was taught this year, that not everyone can show up. Not everyone is as out of the closet, some people face very real threats for showing up at Pride events proudly with their loved ones.
I am reminded this year, lots of people can’t show up because Pride isn’t always accessible to everyone, for a variety of reasons but specifically physical ones. I know that Surrey Pride does an excellent job of making sure its’ inclusive but not every one does.
Some events are simply too large to accommodate people in scooters or wheelchairs. Some events are so filled with people that folks like me end up being triggered and having to deal with severe anxiety issues like panic disorders.
Going to events is a privilege, and it’s one I take very seriously. It’s not just a reminder that I am alone, every year I show up to Pride is another year I survived the world throwing a whole fuck ton of bullshit my way.
It’s my way of saying “See bitches, I fucking made it!”.
I am proud of myself for showing up, both for others, but also and probably more importantly, for the little girl who was taught to believe that seeing two men holding hands as they walk down the street is “Ugly,” instead of beautiful.
It’s for the young woman who discovered that she was right, it is beautiful. And for the person I am becoming, who stands in the shadows of all those who came before me, just so I can say “Thank you for teaching me to say fuck hate, loudly, proudly, and as openly as possible.”
I don’t need to throw bricks. Marsha already did that. I can rest, I can enjoy the peace, and I can live to fight another day in different ways, because she roared, so I can whisper.
I know that I am “The” Loud Mouth Brown Girl, but sometimes I’ve learned, people listen more when you stop yelling at them and start communicating at their level.
This is why I write so many “How to be a better white person,” type essays, it’s not because I think white people as a whole are a failure. It’s because white education is a failure.
It deliberately dumbs the world down into the most simple terms for people who are comfortable doing half the work for ten times the pay, while the rest of us do all the work for free.
The world isn’t fair. Angel said it best when he said “The world is harsh and cruel, but we can make it better…” Some of you aren’t a part of making it better.
Some of you, not all of you, and not all white people — but Black, Brown, and Indigenous people too — are too comfortable, too complicit. I know I have been for far too long.
I had grand plans and turned down every opportunity that could get me what I wanted because none of them aligned with my ideals. I am one of the many and yet few, who chose heart over cash, and while that fucking stings every day of my life, I’d rather cut off my left tit then ever defend a place like Dubai.
I know who I am today, because the Queer community gave me a place to come home to every single year, a place where I can gather with like minded weirdos who don’t mind being weird, because they know being weird is absolutely gorgeous.
There is a divinity to Drag Queens and Drag Kings that goes unrespected, and I think the reason it’s so disrespected is purely because people are afraid of those who are willing to be completely vulnerable, in public.
If you think it’s easy for these Kings and Queens to dress up and appear in public, you have absolutely no idea what life is like in the Queer community.
Just there are anti-Black, anti-Indigenous, and anti-Brown people in those communities, there are anti-queer folks in the Queer community and it’s a big problem.
The reason we have that problem isn’t just because of white supremacy, but that’s a huge part of it. Some of it is that people just like being jerks for the sake of being jerks.
There’s abuse all across the globe, but if you’re lucky like me, and you fucking chip away at all the bullshit that comes your way, you end up finding accomplices who support you regardless of what labels your vessel carries.
I hope for those of you who can show up, you take a moment while you’re at any event, and realize the privilege you get to have by being there. Take a moment and think about all the folks who aren’t and take a mental photo so they can feel like they’re a part of the show.
Then take lots of real photos so they don’t feel like they missed out. Happy Pride friends.
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall, The Original Loud Mouth Brown Girl
P.S.
Free Palestine, Congo, Haiti, Tongo, The DRC, and Sudan, forever.
