In Another Life We Would Have Been Artists

An activist's manifesto.

I don't usually like cross-posting, but, prompted by Vashanti I've been meaning to write a blog post about what activism means to me/why I do it. This is my column that's running in today's issue of The Eagle. A little background:

• I a write biweekly column. About hipsters. I know, right?
• This happened. Campus politics exploded. Activists and journalists alike suspended the notions that cigarettes are not a food group and that drinking every night is socially unacceptable. It was a time of crisis, y'know? A list of demands was made by the campus community, and then this happened. I'm not sure if anyone knows what to do with themselves right now.

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Dissent: it’s a theme I’ve covered in this column all semester. I’ve discussed it in the context of hipster history (hipstory, I suppose) – bandanas, skinny jeans, flannel, they’ve all at some point been donned as signs of solidarity, as separation from and statement against the mainstream. But their meanings now have largely been stripped of significance and appropriated into the fashion of the contemporary hipster, leaving histories of rebellion in their wake hidden under the guise of – you guessed it – irony. And although individuals sporting this style may catch a lot of flack, hipsters are not what’s threatening our generation. Rather, they are indicative of a much bigger, much more harmful issue: complacency.

It is easy for us to take for granted the freedoms we enjoy as a result of our predecessors’ struggles. Because of this, it is even easier for us to assume that these struggles are over, that all those nasty “-isms” don’t exist, and that there is little to nothing left for us to fight or defend. We have watched the most radical generation in our nation’s history age into conservativism, and we have watched the generations after that follow their lead, assuming either that the fighting is done or that it is futile.

But there is a greater stirring in our lives. It is a wave of recognition that some things (many things) are still just not right. We are the most highly educated generation that our country has seen, and as a result, we recognize injustices – whether they be the inadvertent results of misinformation, or atrocities spurred by ignorance or motivated by hatred.

Our generation does not know exactly what it is fighting for; we do not have one single cause, but honestly, it’s nice to see someone care about anything anymore. The only thing worse than the passive aggressive Hobbesian nightmare that is Internet fighting is passive progressiveness – the ability to realize injustice but the inability to speak up or take action. Perhaps the dissident publication Adbusters said it best: “This is our decisive moment. Either we wallow in debt as passive observers of history and pray that technology will eventually solve all our problems or we actively seize power and deal with the consequences.”

Despite all the controversy we (as a community and a generation) have been experiencing (potentially the largest understatement of my AU career), I am more than proud to have participated in and witnessed the way that various communities have overcome their differences and united in response to that which they oppose.
We have realized that it is not about the differences in our personal solutions but about the greater problems that we all have in common.

No, it is not right that this unification happened at the personal expense of individuals, and no it is not right that anyone must feel responsible for cleaning up the mess that another person or another group has made, but the vigor of response has been simply admirable and nearly unprecedented. We have recognized that the solution is not to walk way from the problem, leaving it for someone else, the solution is to refuse to be silent until satisfied. Talk about “ideas into action,” eh – not bad, right, Kerwin?

We are recognizing that as long as there exists injustice for one, there is injustice for all of us – that once a group’s rights or ability to live safely are taken away, then all of ours are at stake. Yes, in fact, the dignity and safety of one is more important and more powerful than the hatred of others. This is an ideal, and we must fight to make it a reality, or else we are being irresponsible to ourselves.

We can borrow from feminist rhetoric – as long as we live in this world, we are survivors, not victims, of injustice, and we can either continue to live through it like nothing is wrong, or we can take action to correct it. We cannot ask to see our vision realized any longer – we must demand it.

Our rights, our beliefs and our ideologies are not something to be taken and twisted into dirty words used to shame us by those who feel threatened by our liberation. These are ours to value and keep and to empower us to achieve greater things. You cannot claim to know fully (and therefore claim the right to speak on behalf of or judge) the suffering or indignities experienced by an oppressed group unless you yourself are a part of that group, but we can all do our best to act as allies and recognize what is wrong and how to help.

So yes, injustice is everyone’s problem, but I’ll acknowledge that activism isn’t everyone’s solution. Thankfully, we have been given the gift of diversity, so that individuals may utilize their different talents to effect change. Activism takes many different forms – it is not limited to the picket-sign protest of yester-generation. Activism comes down to who you are on the day-to-day, if you are living what you believe in. The opposite of hate isn’t love – it is justice, fairness and respect.

So if we’re truly going to be defending all those abstract nouns that we believe in so strongly, then all of us – journalists and activists (we have more in common than you think) – must commit to achieving it, not just by discussing it but by owning up to our responsibilities and living it – and there’s nothing ironic about that.

This Is Not the Jenny Schecter Show

I'm about a week late on this post, and I told myself when starting this blog that I would only post things that brought me to profound conclusions, but I realized that
-that would leave my posts very few and far between
-I am a lesbian blogger, and as such, I am obligated to do an L Word finale post

That being said, here are my feelings on Chaiken (we're on a last name basis now), Season 6, and The L Word in general. In list form. It would be in chart form as a final homage, but...that seems too difficult right now.

(These are in no particular order).

10. Who killed Jenny Schecter? Not even Ilene Chaiken knows. But I know. It was the ghost of Dana Fairbanks. She was angry that Jenny did not try to contact her for the tribute video (because God knows she went to incredible lengths to track down people who didn't. really. matter. A trip to the lesbian underworld would have been entirely feasible). See, what really happened is that GhostDana found Jenny, pushed her off the balcony, and...

9. Stole the armor off Xena Warrior Princess and turned her into a cop. No really. I somehow feel like this is some sort of ten-year delayed apology to the queer grrrls of yesterdecade who sat patiently through the entire Xena series for the Gabrielle/Xena hey-we're-lesbian-warriors deal to finally be acknowledged. The last episode does not count.

8. I hate this show. Wait, no, I love this show. Wait, no, I hate it, but I hope it's memories stay with me forever. Wait. This show is like everyone's ex-girlfriend. Touche, Chaiken.

7. This is not the Jenny Schecter Show.

6. I really appreciated the fact that a really cliche reflective look-at-all-our-good-times

kind of ending was avoided, and the fact that all the characters had to reflect upon their relationships through interrogation was ALMOST clever, but Chaiken (boooooo) handled it in an extremely nonsensical (though aesthetically pleasing) way. Really though, the ladies all looked inappropriately stunning in the interrogation room, but the whole thing seemed like more like some bizarre Lesbian Real World confessional starring, yes I'm going to make the joke again, Xena Warrior Princess.

5. Booooo Chaiken for spending the entire season trying to defame Bette Porter. Man-hater, cheater, etc, etc. For shame, Chaiken, for shame.

4. Booooo Chaiken for wasting the penultimate episode on a glorified dance-off! And with no snarky references to Flashdance?! How dare she.

3. I once had a crush on the actress who played Jamie after seeing her in X-Men several years ago. This isn't really relevant, I just wanted everyone to know she made a really cute purple-haired mutant. Oh right, also, her character would have been great and compelling in ANY earlier season. Starting a new storyline and introducing a new character this (half) season was just inappropriate.

2. Max's moustache? Helena's weird boob-cup-accenting dress during the final glamor shots? I don't know.

1. This show has literally become the center of lesbian culture. Ilene Chaiken was entrusted with the responsibility of SHAPING. LESBIAN. CULTURE. It's a big fucking deal. But no matter how much it may have gotten screwed up, we all still watched it, didn't we? If nothing else, it let us know that, yes, lesbians are real, and yes, there can be inside jokes so extensive that they can be shared by an entire community (I'm talking to you, BETTY). No matter how good or bad this series/finale may have been, there's no denying that many a queer grrl, closeted and out, would be sitting in their rooms, doors closed and laptops open, waiting for the next episode of The L Word to load so they could watch it, low resolution, Korean subtitles and all.

Conclusion: Am I going to boo Ilene Chaiken if I see her in the streets? Why yes, of course.
Will I always be glad that The L Word existed to bond queer grrrls and friends alike under the premise that this is NOT the way that we live, but we're glad we can pretend someone does? Yes.

So thanks for six seasons of the first lesbian sex any of us had ever seen, for the Chart, for the most attractive actresses to be found on cable TV, for women we could secretly relate to (sometimes), for that really weird thing you did in Season 2 everytime someone had sex (you know how it goes...Shane Shane Shane Shane Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen Fucking Fucking Fucking Fucking), and for teaching us that some scenes really work better on mute. Really. It's been good.