digitalphiltrum

i have a cousin, ‘tucker’, who is about 7 years behind me in age. growing up, he was always the baby. my brother and his sister, who are very close in age, would always take off and leave him far behind, meaning i got stuck with him. at least, i always thought of it that way – getting stuck playing with the baby. but he adored me, and though i never understood it, i kind of liked it. we connected on some level. unfortunately, we lost touch during his annoying pre-teen years, while i was away at college and he was, well…an annoying pre-teen, but we reconnected and have grown closer since my graduation and his entrance into young adulthood.

this past weekend, my baby cousin left for MIT. despite all the issues i may have with some of his teenage choices, i will miss him terribly. i’d like to say that i will miss him for the next four years, but i know he will be going all the way for the phD, which means he’ll basically be in school for the majority of his young life. a baffling but admirable pursuit. i will definitely see him at various holidays and other family events, but i know he will not be “coming back home” like so many of my friends did after college. i am incredibly proud of the things he has accomplished so far and the things i know he will do in the coming years. i am also incredibly jealous of the experiences and opportunities that lie before him. i would love to be a freshman in college again.

but…at the same time, i also worry about him. i made some of the most dangerous, worst decisions of my life between the ages of 18 and 21. sometimes i marvel at the fact that i didn’t die or at least lose a limb or two while in college. i think sometimes that all the important things you learn in elementary school – the real basics – are completely lost the moment you step foot on a college campus. like, don’t stick objects, no matter how benign they may seem, into electrical outlets. or, in general, if you dont know where it has been, you probably shouldn’t put it in your mouth. also, plastic plates shouldn’t go in toaster ovens and power tools and cheap beer do not always mix well.

i know i could pass these bits of knowledge, along with some more serious lessons learned, on to tuck, but it would be wasted advice. just as all the advice that was offered to me my freshman year was quickly ignored. i also know that, as a young gay male, the potential that he could face even more difficult situations is high. i know he is entering college almost 10 years after my own entrance, and that things are much different now than they were then, and i am grateful for this, but things are not THAT different. i have seen some of my gay male friends have horrible things done to them and said about them that were simply malicious acts of hate by people who either did not understand or maybe understood just a little too well and felt the need to lash out because of it. i will never understand people who harbor this type of hatred, but i do fear the things they are capable of doing with it. i think of tuck as a little brother and i wish i could protect him; i wish that somehow explaining to him about my negative experiences might shield him from ones of his own. but they will not – they cannot. i can only hope that things go well for him and that he does the best he can with the things he has been given.

tucker – you will experience some of the most amazing times of your life in the next four (or six, or eight) years, and also some of the worst, but they will be your own unique experiences to take with you and learn from. they are experiences i can neither protect you from nor share with you. i wish you the very best and hope you find success in all your endeavors.

6 years. There isnt anything left to say that hasnt already been said. me? I intend to mark the day by heading up to charles street this afternoon to join the peace path for a while.

a year ago today

i have recently begun to find interest in the concept of minimalism. the idea intrigues me. one thing i have always sought but never really found is inner peace. clarity of the mind and soul. there is too much background noise in my life. there are a few moments in my life where i felt that i had found some sort of clarity – moments where i felt like everything made sense and i was completely content to just exist. but those moments are rare and brief. minimalism seeks to bring outer peace. it removes all the crap, allowing the important things to really stand out.

i was responding to a friends message on myspace earlier and it got me thinking about my undergrad degree. why exactly did i choose writing and english lit majors? it wasnt because i wanted to go into a career in either of those fields, i knew that i didnt. so why then would i choose those majors? i think the answer is because i equated language with power and power with control. i was in a place in my life where i felt completely helpless. i had no control over any aspect of my life, i was just a passenger on someone elses train. i think in my head i believed that if i could learn to really use language – really begin to understand how it worked and how to control it – that i could learn to express myself so perfectly that i would begin to make sense even to myself. to me, controlling words was controlling the world around me. or, more accurately, controlling words was creating the world around me. once you write something down, it becomes real. in your head, it isnt anything. a thought, a notion, a feeling…they have no body and without a body they have no life. but once you write them down, they become something. and giving those thoughts life, was like creating a new world for myself, a place where i had control over what happened and what didnt. and that little aspect of me has changed the entire course of my life.

of course, it doesnt work. there are a ton of things that give you the illusion of control, but they are just that – illusions. the reality is that nothing has changed…except your view. and that brings me back to minimalism.

in college, whenever i had a huge assignment due there was one thing you could be absolutely sure of — my dorm room would be spotless. when im stressed out, i clean. if the world around me is chaotic, i feel chaotic inside. i absolutely cannot concentrate in a messy area. some call this OCDP, some call it ridiculous, but i dont really care whether its a quirk or a disorder, its simply fact for me – physical clutter is emotional clutter.

i realized recently that in order to find peace and clarity i need to eliminate all those things that cause background noise. i need to simplify. this is not only physically, but emotionally as well. i desire peace but i dont seek it? this is fundamentally wrong. it makes no sense. so essentially im renewing a commitment to myself – to seek the things that will bring me happiness and give me a sense of fulfillment. and im starting by cleaning out all the things in my life that do not bring me any closer to this goal. minimalism, while it has come to describe a lot of different lifestyles and ideas now, is at its core simply about removing the unnecessary. and thats what i want to do. it just..makes sense. thoughts?

there are certain events in life that one must eventually go through that cannot pass without leaving their mark on you. one of these is the first time you really come to terms with the reality of death. today marks the 10 year anniversary of a friends death. when i was 14, a childhood friend, neighbor and classmate of mine took his own life. it was the first time i had ever lost someone close to me, and the fact that it was a suicide made it even harder to understand and deal with. eventually the trauma passed, the grief receded and life went back to normal, but his death left a lasting impression on me and changed me in ways i am even to this day still discovering. i moved on from the loss as everyone eventually does, but i do make it a point to quietly mark the anniversary every year. not in memory of the loss, but in memory of a friend.

With support from True Majority, Working Assets, the RainbowPUSH Coalition, the National Organization for Women and hundreds of other national and local groups, word about the Jan. 27th antiwar mobilization is reaching far and wide. Momentum is building and people from all walks of life and every corner of the country will be marching on Washington, DC, on Saturday, Jan. 27th.

real quick everyone – i’ll be heading down to DC for the peace march on saturday and you should too! i know its going to be cold, but its a cause worth freezing your ass off for.

visit United For Peace & Justice for more information. i hope to see some of you there….

as a blog writer, i am also a blog reader. ive always been a huge fan of “people-watching”. in fact, i can almost call it a hobby at this point. and reading blogs feels like the next step in people watching. i can read all about the life and times of some stranger all the way across the world and, unless i choose to make myself known, he or she has no idea that im “watching” them. you know, as i write that, i realize just how creepy that sounds. im not stalking you. i promise. at least…not most of you.

anyway…i digress…

as a blog reader/people watching/legal stalker, i very often do random blog searches on the internet just to see what comes up. today, through series of random searches followed by some blogrole jumping, i came across a page that maintains an active list of “iraq” blogs, these are the blogs of civilians at home blogging about their loved ones abroad, journalists embedded with troops, and soldiers currently serving in iraq.

reading a soldier’s blog goes far beyond “putting a face” on the war. you can really get to know someone through their writing; you get to know about their personal lives, their thoughts and opinions and beliefs and even get to know their personality. clearly you dont actually know the person, but you can feel like you know them.

something that makes this war really hit home is to find one of these lists of “iraq blogs” and, as you scroll, see all the ones that now have red text underneath the title and description that say something like “killed in action on july 7, 2005″.

yesterday, Oct 11, was National Coming Out day. gay people celebrate this holiday by hiding in closets across the nation and then jumping out of them wearing very colorful, flamboyant clothing and screaming “HERE AND QUEER!” to scare the living heck out of the straights.

ok, so maybe not, but that would be funny wouldnt it?

typically, the thing to do on national coming out day is to share your coming out story. and thats not just for the queer either – straight people come out to. so do gay allies.

now youre looking at me funny arent you?

no, really. you come out as straight the first time you tell your parents you want to have a member of the opposite sex over for dinner. or the first time you introduce your opposite sex significant other as your boyfriend or girlfriend. or when you take their hand in public. even placing a photo of your significant other on your desk at work. youre making an unofficial announcement to the people around you– “this is me, this is what i like”. straight coming out is often unnoticed. your mother does not break into tears, your father does not refuse to speak to you for months, your friends dont suddenly distance themselves and people walking by you on the street dont stare or yell “Breeder!”.

coming out as an ally is a little bit more difficult. people come out as gay allies when they announce to their friends and family that, while they themselves are not gay, they support gays and gay rights. its more difficult because anytime you support something controversial you run the risk of alienating friends and family. once again though, you dont have your parents crying or people freaking out over it – unless they assume that you are in fact gay as well. which is something a lot of allies have to deal with. once you announce your support for gay rights, most people automatically assume you must be gay.

so, i have heard a lot of coming out stories the past couple days. some funny — allies whose parents still do not believe that they arent actually gay themselves so they have to constantly be coming out as straight, gays who came out only to discover that everyone already knew, straights whose friends assumed they were gay and were shocked to find out that they were in fact straight, bisexuals with very confused friends and family, a father who is so supportive that he actually tries to set his son up with other boys . these are all great stories and they really make you think that the world is becoming a more welcoming place. then there have been some not so funny stories — fathers who no longer speak to their sons, some who have gone so far as to throw them out of the house, women who have had things thrown at them from passing cars because they were holding hands and looking a bit too “dykey”, families who, while they did not reject a son, daughter or sibling, refuse to acknowledge that they are gay, a lesbian who left her girlfriend of 5 years because her parents found out and made her choose between having a family and being gay. these arent from the 80s or 90s, these are things that have happened in the last 5 years. some in the last couple of months.

then there are the bad stories. kids who are living on the streets because their family has abandoned them. (did you know that GLBT youth make up almost 40% of the homeless youth population in NYC?), gay bashings, murderes like matthew shepard. these are the stories that didnt turn out okay.

its those bad stories that keep so many gay men and women in the closet. for some people, the risk is too high.

i would share my coming out story, but it really isnt worth it. it can be summed up in the following dialogue:

Steph: “Um…I have something to tell you…..Im gay”
Everyone: “um….duh. we knew that”

so, what i ask of you this week is to share your own coming out story (not necessarily with me, though that is encouraged), no matter what your sexual preference. look back and think about all the times in your life, starting with the first, that you have declared your sexuality to your friends, family, coworkers, etc.

and honestly, if you arent GLBT, think about how different those situations would have been if you were.

In a 1963 paper for the New York Academy of Sciences, Edward Lorenze explored the idea that one flap of a seagull’s wings could change the course of weather forever. This would later become known as the “butterfly effect”, an idea associated with Chaos Theory, that states that even the smallest action, such as the single flap of a butterfly’s wings, can ultimately affect the entire world.

**

July 24, 1994. Today is your twelfth birthday. We are celebrating, you and I and a bunch of your friends, at the local community pool. We splash and dunk and belly-flop and cannonball – all those things that only kids can do for an infinite number of hours. And when these grow tiresome or our bellies grow too pink we have contests to see who can hold their breath longer under water or race one another the length of the pool over and over again until we are so tired we can barely move.

At sunset we gather all our stuff together, a large assortment of colorful kickboards, foam noodles and rubber rafts, and trudge slowly back to your house, a whole 2 blocks, leaving a trail of little wet footprints behind us.

After ice cream and cake and an impromptu sing-along to Des’ree’s “Gotta Be”, still wrapped in our brightly colored beach towels, we pack into the two large, yellow rubber rafts (the ones we have brought inside, still wet, and left in the middle of the living room floor, much to your mother’s dismay) to watch a movie and snack on popcorn. I don’t remember what movie we watch because after 20 minutes we are all sound asleep, a giant mess of tangled limbs and popcorn kernels, contorted and uncomfortable but so comatose that it doesn’t matter.

In the morning, stiff and still sleepy, I hug you goodbye when my father comes to pick me up and, as the car drives off, lean out the window and say “thank you for the party!” adding quickly, “…cant wait for next year’s!”

Neither of us know at this moment that this will be the last birthday I will ever celebrate with you. We have been best friends for what seems like forever but, having just finished up our first year of middle school, childhood has already begun its surreptitious retreat. In the summers that will follow we will hear from each other less and less, as is the tendency with childhood friends. By the time we graduate high school we will not have spoken in 5 years. All that will remain of the once strong friendship are some notes and pictures, a few trinkets that mean nothing to anyone but the two of us, and a handful of good times spent together – like a twelfth birthday party.

July 9, 2004. The roads by the reservoir are often foggy at night, especially during the hot and humid Baltimore summers. The sun has set long ago and, as the heat of the day begins to fade, a low ground cover of fog begins to settle in.With the exception of the constant chorus of crickets and tree frogs and the occasional hum and whiz of a passing car, it is a quiet, still night.

Shortly after 2am, a mustang (for some reason I imagine it might have been green) comes speeding around the bend at the bottom of the hill on Providence Rd. It doesn’t fully make the turn though – instead the silence of the night is broken (but only for a second) by the squeal of rubber on pavement, the awful crunch of metal and fiberglass and the shattering of glass as the car slides off the road, slamming sideways into one tree before crashing headfirst into another.

The police report will say that the driver “failed to negotiate the turn”, but you will never be able to tell them why. You do not survive the crash.

I won’t hear about it for another two weeks when, at a bar, the following conversation plays out between me and an old friend:

    Him: Hey, do you remember Telly? We went to school with her in elementary and middle school…

    Me: Yes! Of course I remember her! We were best friends for years.

I see the change come over his face immediately, the corners of his lips fall, and then, quietly…

    Him: Oh. Im sorry. I didn’t know. I hate to be the one to tell you but…

**

I can only hope that your death was immediate, that you did not have time to feel the pain, or think about the friends who were in the car with you, or contemplate what it means to live or die. I hope that one minute you were laughing and joking and singing along with the radio and the next…

Static. Like when you turn the TV to a non-existent station. A gentle hiss, the flickering of black and white with the occasional flash of a broken image that you can almost make out, but not completely, like a dream, or a fading childhood memory…

**

If the Chaos Theory is correct, then it is impossible for any person, no matter how ordinary, to cross paths with another, even for a breif moment, without ultimately affecting the entire course of their life.