Filed under: Uncategorized
I just had an almost 2 hour conversation with my mother about, for lack of a better word, life. Life of the present, future kind. What’s going on, what will be going on, fears, worries. Financial stress. Family. Dad. Me. My future. Love.
And it wouldn’t be such a big deal except that I don’t share much with my mother (or vice versa) who has presented herself as unemotional for most of my life. Not that I don’t try but attempts are often met with laughter or exclamations that I “lighten up!” I have many ideas for why this is but must bar feminism from any sort of announced reasoning as my mother finds feminism trivial. (have I mentioned she and I are quite different?)
So 2 hours is quite a long time for us to share any sort of personal opinion because it happens too little. Getting out our feelings together is startled by bursts of sadness as we discover how much has truly gone unsaid. Even telling each other we want the best for each other is hard because we are so unpracticed in meaningful conversations. Built up emotion comes booming out at the most seemingly innocuous times because it has no where to go but out.
I say all this because it’s important I remind myself what’s going on–plus, I know I’m not the only one with these sorts of tangled family relationships.
We ended with a 5 minute hug and I decided, with difficulty, to make it known why it was hard for me to come to her as I did not want the moment to pass me by. I let her know that the mockery of emotional sharing as well as the physical and verbal abuse I endured for a good bit of my time at home has always made it seem we can’t have a close relationship. There is resentment and still a desire to be close. Tear-ily, she told me she’d made bad parenting moves and that it keeps her up some nights now. She said she was sorry.
I’ve never told her those things. I’ve really wanted to for a really long time. If I had to choose 3 of the most important things I’ve wanted to happen in my life thus far this exchange would have been one of them. And it just happened, maybe 20 minutes ago.
And I wanted to share.
Filed under: Antibodies, gender pimps, Grab a shovel, Interconnected!, WhatAboutMEEEE
In proper Cowblog fashion this post has a title from a song and there is a semi-related music video.
Yes, Polly, this one’s for you.
And a whole bunch of others who fight tooth and nail to keep destructive forces out of women’s lives. Pssstt: gender in any capacity, is destructive.
But since it is not up for debate whether or not body-expression-essential-fascism is destructive (nor is it the point of this post) we will move on now.
Polly you have been mistreated, misrepresented, silenced and now flat out ignored. It’s okay, because in the grand scheme, truth has a head and it rears from time to time. Nevertheless, it’s good to call things as they are.
Dear F Word,
If you are going to have a comment policy it might behoove you and your readership to actually follow it. To selectively follow your own policy for some and not others is pretty crappy. Not only that, it discredits and undermines the very thing you need held strong to keep your blog “safe” for feminists. Some people spend a lot of time on comments, especially where controversial topics are concerned. Comment policies are often used by people to assess where their time and energy is best spent. In the name of common decency, providing an honest representation of what you allow and don’t helps people to better allot their time and energies.
For example, if Polly Styrene’s comments will not be allowed in discussions on gender on your blog when the author is Helen G then say it. Give her that much notice.
But don’t block her comments that follow your policy and then respond with comments to her (and others) that don’t follow your own policy.
And, btw, obviously I have decided upon thorough review of the threads and comments in question, that her comments were in check with your policy and the treatment in response to her was not. (I also must concur with the rumour going around that the F Word is indeed not very diverse in it’s representation of feminist perspectives. In fact, is on the way to becoming so narrow it teeters on irrelevance. “I concur with m’learned friend” as it were). So the sticky details of these series of events are not up for debate either. Polly has given F Word and those of significant involvement ample time in private and public space to respond. You know where to find her. This thread will not serve as a passive aggressive dart practice.
Now, contrary to the title of this post, I’m not actually saying “it’s too late to apologize” because 1. It’s not my call, I’m not the person who is owed an apology and 2. Yes, someone it still owed an apology.
But if and when that will happen remains to be seen. If I am being cynical, my inkling is it won’t happen. Or it if does it will be awash in generics, vague-ities and too broad as to address the exact incident. Nevertheless, here I am, small blogger of the hated Radical Feminist variety speaking up to say: Yes, Polly is owed an apology and there is an author who needs to own her actions.
Admittedly, I say all this as someone who has no official blog policy–however, let the record show: all comments (save the violent threats) get through on my blog. Even the radfemphobic ones. Even those that make my brain dance the Logic Rigadoon.
Not allowing dissent may be annoying to some but saying you do and then not following through is a whole other crop of crappery. Get it together F Word.
–Sincerely–
…Now for an experiment…
Have your say
1. Radfemphobic comments will be blocked.
(Figure your way around that policy.)
Buried Alive 