Gwynn Raimondi, MA

We have (more) work to do : Reflections on RBG

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The state controlling a woman would mean denying her full autonomy and full equality.
…
When I’m sometimes asked when will there be enough [women on the Supreme Court] and I say, ‘When there are nine,’ people are shocked. But there’d been nine men, and nobody’s ever raised a question about that.
…
My mother was very strong about my doing well in school and living up to my potential. Two things were important to her and she repeated them endlessly. One was to ‘be a lady,’ and that meant conduct yourself civilly, don’t let emotions like anger or envy get in your way. And the other was to be independent, which was an unusual message for mothers of that time to be giving their daughters.
…
You can disagree without being disagreeable.

~Ruth Bader Ginsburg

I, like many, am grieving the death of a role model; the death of a woman who inspires and motivates; a woman I wanted to live forever.  Who, I believe, many of us wanted to live forever, or at least until mid-November.

And, in our hearts, we knew her days were numbered. I am grateful for her, and others like her, who have helped to clear the path for so many of us, so that we can do our work in the world.  She fought for as long as could, both oppression and cancer.  So many of us have been holding our breath with every report of her health for the last couple of years, and perhaps many are still holding their breath even with her death.  I for one, feel like I have been able to take in a huge inhale, finally.

She was only one woman; the fate of our individual lives, our country, of the world, should not, did not, and does not, rest solely on her shoulders.  Yes, she was an amazing woman, who accomplished so much in her life and for our lives.  She is a giant, there is no denying that.  

And, she was only one person.

We, you and I, our mothers and grandmothers, our daughters and nieces; our fathers, grandfathers, sons, nephews, have always needed to a part of the fight; of the revolution; of the resistance. We all have needed to, and many of us have, stated “I dissent” to the inequalities and atrocities of the world we live in.

Revolution does not rely on the life of one singular person.  And revolution does rely on all us, as individuals and as a collective.  We need to continue RBG’s work, which to me means we each need to continue our own work in the world – both our own inner work and our outer work. 

Yes, we need to mourn. Yes, we need to grieve. Yes, we need to take a moment and fully comprehend what the loss of this freedom fighter means to us each individually and as a collective.  Her life, and her death, has had and will continue to have deep impacts on us all.  Taking the time to grieve, to stop and consider these impacts, is vital as we move forward.  

Taking time to grieve is a vital part of our work.  

As we grieve, we can also acknowledge her path is not the only path. Nor is it even the best.  There are many ways to freedom.  Many ways to liberation.  Many ways out of authoritarianism, oppression, abuse.  Her way was what was possible for her, at the time she forged her path.  

We now have many other paths we can forge.

This doesn’t negate the importance of her work or her role in history. Or her role in our individual and collective lives.  It is true that we needed her, many hers, to get us where we are today.  Without her, and those who worked along side her both literally and figuratively, woman would not have the right to have our own bank accounts or own our own homes.  She lead the way to helping us obtain many of the resources we have, and take for granted, today.  

It does mean we need to continue the evolution and revolution she was a part of continuing leading (because racial and women’s rights did not start with her) . It means we need to continue to work towards change, and perhaps the ways we do that are different now than they could have been 60+ years ago when she started clearing her path.

RBG’s life and death gives us all much to aspire to. But none of us can, nor should be, her. And her way, while thank the goddesses and gods she did it her way, is not our way now.

She did not rest, until death. I am personally, selfishly, grateful for this. And I know, that rest MUST also be part of our work.  She worked towards affording us the ability to see how no one person can, or should, do it all.  She did much, this is true.  It is also true she had resources.  She had aides, assistants.  She had financial resources.  She had a husband who supported her and her work, and took on some of the more traditional “woman’s work” in their home so she could focus on her career and work in the world.

Yes, she burned the candle at both ends for most of her life.  It is also true that she had much support that allowed her to do this for as many decades as she did. 

And.

The idea of “burning the candle at both ends,” with or without resources, is a staple of capitalism.  It is a staple of white supremacy.  It is a staple of misogyny.  It is the idea of meritocracy.  It is the idea that we must “earn” our value, our worth.  That we must sacrifice much in order to be respected, in order to be deserving of respect.  She worked more hours than any single human should ever need to work in their life time.

Am I thankful she did?  Fuck yes, I am.  And part of why I am thankful, is that her doing this has helped bring us to the place socially to see the harm in this way of being.

She did her work the only way her generation was allowed to. She had to prove her worth and value so that she could bring about the change she did.  She had to work harder than her (white) male colleagues to gain respect.  She had to dance the line of being a “good girl” and a rebel rouser (without looking or acting like a rebel rouser). 

Now the new generations get to do it differently. We get to do it Our way. And this is all thanks to her, and those like her. 

“Our way” will look different for each of us. This doesn’t mean we can’t do this work together, in community, in collaboration with each other.  It means the way I do my work will look different from the ways you do.  It means we must do our work  in the ways that are true to each of us individually.  We can, and must, do this in tandem, in collaboration, and in support of each other.

There is no One Way to bring about change.  No one way to bring about social justice. There is no singular cause that is more vital than another in our work towards liberation.  

ALL of our work is vital and it ALL intersects.  We need people whose main focus, like mine, is trauma work.  We need people whose main focus is racial justice.  We need people whose main focus is body liberation.  We people whose main focus is reproductive rights, gay rights, disabled persons rights, trans rights, indigenous rights, sex workers rights… anti-capitalism work, anti-oppression work, anti-rape culture work… (list non-exhaustive).  We need everyone doing their work, both inner and outer.  Because all our work feeds and supports each others’ and not a one of us can do All the work alone, by ourselves.

Let us take the time to mourn the loss of an amazing human.  And let us not allow her death to have us spiral into despair and hopelessness.  This work was always resting on all our shoulders.  The work has always been All our responsibility.  RBG was amazing and some could argue super-human, and even so, she alone was not going to save us from a continued downfall of humanity.

That has always been up to each of us.  We each have always, and continue to have, a responsibility to ourselves and to the collective, to do our work. To work towards change, towards doing different, towards moving away from trauma reactions that cause harm and towards taking the pause and considering our responses so that we can break cycles and patterns of harm.

All is not lost.  As long as we continue our work.  Within and out in the world.

/../

This essay originated as an Instagram post, which I expanded for my weekly(ish) newsletter on September 19, 2020. It has been further edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays you can subscribe here.

 

Learning and relearning to trust our Self

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The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.  ~Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Essays

We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be.  ~Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

Within you is a fountain of wisdom. And you sell yourself short every time you allow some authority to define your limitations and cage your potential. Even if that authority lives in your head.  ~Vironika Tugaleva, The Art of Talking to Yourself

Sometimes there are things we know.  What our next steps are.  Decisions that need to be made.  Changes that need to happen.  We know, deep down in our bones and being.  

And yet.  We don’t listen.  Or we don’t want to listen.  

Because the change feels to big.  Because the process feels too painful.  Because there is a part of us that doesn’t want the change, wants things to go back to the way they were.  

Also because we were taught, from a very young age not to trust ourselves.  Not to trust our own inner knowing.  

So we look for ways out.

We look to signs from the Universe, the cards, the songs on the radio, the grocery store clerk.  We ask everyone under the sun what they would do.

We talk ourselves in circles trying to find any way we can to not do the thing we know we need to do.  

We do all this in an effort to avoid doing what we know we need to do. 
We don’t listen to our own inner truth.
We seek answers outside of us when they are screaming at us from within.

We do this to avoid pain, discomfort, the unknown.
We do this out of fear.

We do this to try and escape the grief that is welling up inside of us.
Or the hurt.
Or the anger.
Or the frustration.
Or all of the above.

Regardless of the whats or whys, we don’t listen to our Self.  We don’t listen to our Truth.  

We stop our own metamorphosis.
We keep ourselves stuck.
We hide.
We put on fronts and masks.
We try to pretend everything is fine as it is.

But everything is not fine.

And if there is one thing that is constant and inevitable in our lives it is change.
Sometimes that means trying harder, trying different.
Sometimes that means letting go, surrendering, allowing.
It always means going outside our own comfort zones.
It means doing what we know we need to do.
Even if we don’t know what is on the other side.
Even if we are terrified of the process.
Even if it breaks our hearts that things need to be the way they need to be.

Trusting ourselves, trusting our own knowing, is no easy task.  It is not something we learn to do, in fact it is something we were born with knowing and then it was taught out of us.  We were conditioned to trust others over our own Self.  We were told we don’t know what is best for us or our own lives.  We were trained to seek answers outside of us and to never look within.

But here’s a thing: we were born knowing how to trust our Self.  We were born with the knowledge of how to connect with our own innate wisdom.  We were born listening to our own needs, wants and truths, and never, ever questioning them.

We were born with a blind faith in ourselves.

I don’t know that we can, or should, get back to that blind faith.  I am a deep believer in curiosity, questioning, analyzing, and understanding.  I believe we should always check in with ourselves and see if there are shadow pieces, hidden motivations, unconscious agitators, to what we see as our truth, as our knowing.

And all of that requires deeper looking within.  Not outside.  Within.

And a willingness to actually trust ourselves.  And then to honor that trust and do what we know we need to do.

/../
This was originally written for my weekly newsletter in September 2018 and was edited and updated for publication here. To receive my most current essays you can subscribe here.

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Admissions, “apologies,” & other patriarchal nonsense (aka I am furious)

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We have to constantly critique imperialist white supremacist patriarchal culture because it is normalized by mass media and rendered unproblematic. ~bell hooks, Homegrown: Engaged Cultural Criticism

In late 2017 I watched celebrity male after celebrity male come forward and admit to having assaulted or harassed women or other men.  And with each admission and pseudo-apology, my eyes rolled a little bit harder and wider. I had the same response to Joe Biden’s recent string of non-apologies to Anita Hill as well as the women who have come forward stating he had hugged or touched them without their consent.

My initial response to all these “admissions” is No shit.  No shit that a man in power wielded that power to get sexual gratification from those who couldn’t, for any number of reasons, say no.  No shit that these men didn’t think this was “bad.”  No shit that it would appear that every man in the world has done this.

Just like, #yesallwomen have been sexually assaulted or harassed, #yesallmen have at least harassed, if not assaulted women or other men.

(I know there are a few men who read this.  Please don’t write me and tell me #notallmen or #notme.  Yes all men and yes you.  I’m not open for a discussion on this particular point. Complicity is as bad as an actual act as far as I’m concerned.)

I don’t find it surprising or shocking that all these men have done what we all know they have done.  I do find it surprising that other people are shocked by these admissions.

I don’t even find it particularly shocking that they are coming forward.  Because what a great publicity stunt. What a great way to get yourself, the perpetrator, centered instead of those you assaulted.  What a great way to make this, again, all about the men and their power. Or worse, they twist the narrative in such a way as trying to appear to be the actual victim, like Biden seems to be trying to do by saying he won’t apologize for his “intentions” or making quips about how “times have changed”. This is all a re-centering of the perpetrator and pushing the actual victims out to the margins. Again.

I do find it irritating that now that the men are coming forward and saying “oh yeah, I did that” that now women are finally being believed.  Because lord knows we need a man to corroborate our story in order for it to be true.  (Please note the dripping sarcasm there.)

I also find it to be telling that now that these men are either coming forward or admitting guilt to allegations against them that they are losing their jobs and careers.  Because let’s be real honest and clear here, everyone knew this shit was going on.  All the studio and theater executives were crystal clear that this behavior was happening and they normalized it, “looked the other way” (at best), encouraged it (at almost worst), and participated in it themselves (at worst).

There is the term “casting couch” for a reason, folks.

So that now these executives are firing male perpetrators tells me a couple things.  The first is these executives are very smart.  The second that in their smartness they realize that at least 50% of their revenue comes from women.  The third is that they realize those women who make up about 50% or more of their revenue are pissed and are speaking up and out more and more and more and are beginning to no longer tolerate this behavior.

Let’s not think for one moment that these executives are firing folks out of any sense of ethical or moral outrage.

They are following the money.  End of story.

And.

As I am watching as some of these men make pseudo-apologies, I am also watching to see what their next step is.  How are they going to behave moving forward.  What are they going to do to make reparations, not only to their own victims, but also to women everywhere?

Because talk is cheap.

And actions speak louder than words. (As a note, since this was originally written over a year ago, the actions of apology and reparations have been sorely lacking.)

Isabel Abbot wrote this on her Facebook page in November 2017
just so it is made plainly clear.
here in this space #notallmen will not be tolerated. 
victim blaming will be shown the door. 
defending perpetrators and praise for shitty apologies and hand wringing over critique of apologies because “what about redemption” is not worth my time and will be asked to leave.
expressing fear over a perceived witch hunt of even the good ones and claiming men can’t even have a hug or say a word without the threat of being misunderstood and accused of assault is not welcome and if it shows up here it will be called out quickly and completely.
what is happening now is the truth coming into the light. we burn it all down together, all the idols made of our father’s house and false power. nothing spared. this is where the life lives.
and here in this space, i will not qualify my critique of patriarchy and mysogyny with professing i do still love men. i don’t have time for that bullshit.
here, in my spaces, women and femmes are trusted,
and when women speak of their experiences of harm, i believe them and link arms in solidarity with them.
and we keep our eyes on them, keep the attention on their voices and narratives and truth and do not center the frantic scrambling to keep men and patriarchal power forever our focus.
here, we continue to center the margins and celebrate the righteous rising up of those who say no more.

I am weary of the idea that women are on some sort of witch hunt and that “good men” are going to be persecuted and that we need to think about the trauma that the perpetrator endured as a child and well, she didn’t actually say no or stop lines of bullshit.

Even “good men” are complicit.  Even “good men” have looked the other way.  Even “good men” have not spoken up.  Even “good men” have harassed and assaulted. Even “good men” benefit from the fear that rape culture instills in women and femmes.

Because this isn’t about “good men” or “bad men”.

This is about living in a culture that normalizes and justifies the objectification and dehumanization of women.  And all men benefit from this.

I am neutral about these men coming forward.  I question their motives in doing so.  I question the executives and their motives in firing these men.  I really don’t care that these men are finally admitting their guilt and complicity in our culture. I don’t care that some men find it “confusing” or feel like the “rules have changed”.

I do care that up until now women have not been believed.

I do care that women have been told “oh it wasn’t that bad” or asked “well, what did you do to encourage him.”

I do care that dress codes are still focused on sexualizing girls instead of having a conduct code that punishes boys for objectifying these girls or even better yet creating and teaching and modeling a culture of consent.

I do care that these men have gotten away with this behavior for hundreds and thousands of years.  And that, frankly, they will continue to get away with it, because the old boys club is real.

Not only do I care about these things, I am also furious and filled with rage.

I am furious that women have been gaslit for millennia.

I am furious that 1 in 3 women have been victims of some form of physical violence by an intimate partner within their lifetime.

I’m furious that 1 in 5 women in the United States has been raped in their lifetime.

I am furious that these numbers are likely much higher because these are only the numbers that are reported and the entire process of reporting this type of assault is rife with victim blaming and actually discourages victims from reporting.

I am furious that 72% of all murder-suicides involve an intimate partner; 94% of the victims of these murder suicides are female.

I am furious that 1 in 15 children are exposed to intimate partner violence each year, and 90% of these children are eyewitnesses to this violence.

I am furious that between 21-60% of victims of intimate partner violence lose their jobs due to reasons stemming from the abuse.

I am furious that between 2003 and 2008, 142 women were murdered in their workplace by their abuser, which is 78% of women killed in the workplace during this time frame.

I am furious that men think they have a right to touch or talk about a woman’s body without her permission.

I am furious that some people seem to think the men who are finally coming forward and admitting their guilt deserve cookies and medals and praise for being “so brave.”

I am furious that in my circles I need to differentiate between a sense of safeness within our bodies and actual physical safety out in the world.

I am furious that I have to remind the women in my circles NOT to do any of the exercises and practices I offer them when they are not in a physically safe environment.

I am furious at the amount of trauma that lives in our bodies, because of the culture we live in and the normalization of rape, objectification of women, and victim blaming and silencing.

I am furious that women earn less than men yet are often more competent and do better at their jobs.

I am furious that reproductive rights is even a topic of conversation, let alone that “heartbeat” laws are being passed across the US, the Roe vs. Wade will be challenged at the Supreme Court level within the next decade and that the current Supreme Court will likely reverse RvWade.

I am furious that those who would take away my reproductive rights, also would take away my ability to care for and feed a child (by cutting funding to social services that benefit women and children).

I am furious and repulsed by the excuse making for pedophiles that crops up periodically.

I am furious that we have all suffered in relative silence for far too long.

I am furious that we have not been believed and need men to corroborate our stories.

I am furious, about all this and so much more.

Remember:: Our rage is valid.

And please, don’t ever forget that.

/../

This was originally published as one of my weekly newsletters in November 2017 and has been edited for publication here.

If you would like to read my most recent essays, you can subscribe to my newsletter here.

Love is not a victory march

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And love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
~Leonard Cohen, Hallelujah

The last year plus has been traumatic for our world politically and culturally, and because of this, also for many of us personally. We have seen some of our worst fears of what would happen with Republican run Executive and Legislative branches here in the United States. We have seen so much put back forty or more years in time, so much more that has been attempted to be put back. With each hit it feels like we are sinking deeper and deeper in a dystopian novel.

And.

Last year saw #metoo. And this year #timesup.  We see more and more women coming forward and some of the men who perpetrated sex crimes actually having consequences for their actions. I have been witness to more and more people becoming aware of the social injustices in the world, acknowledging their own internalized biases, compliance, and complicity, and doing the work to make change both within themselves and out in the world.

This shifting in our culture and within ourselves has been about love.

Unearthing what love actually means.

That love is a verb.

That love is not always gentle.

That love can be fiery, fierce, loud.

That love can be both protective and can push us outside of our comfort zones.

That love and justice can and should go hand in hand. And in that mix there needs to also be compassion and boundaries.

I believe that on any given day in any given moment all of us are doing the best we can with the tools we have.

This best we can may not be good enough. This best we can may actually be harmful to ourselves or to others. Other’s don’t have to accept our “best we can”. And in order for me to have hope in humanity, I do still believe we are each trying our best to be the best humans we know how to be.

And.

It is also true that sometimes the “best” others can do is something we need to say a firm NO to. And this No can, and in my opinion should, come from a place of deep love. Love for ourselves as well as love for the other person. And perhaps love for all humanity.

The #metoo movement that has caught fire in the last couple of years is a statement of this kind of love. A love comprised of clearly stating this is where I end and you begin and you don’t get to cross this line without my permission. A love comprised of compassion for ourselves and the traumas we have experienced at the hands of (mostly) men. A love comprised of empathy for others with similar experiences and especially for those who are able to speak up and out.

It is a love that seeks more than justice. It is a love that seeks our humanity.

We are at the dawn of a new epoch of human history. We have perhaps been at this dawn for the last hundred or so years. We have seen cultural “norms” slowly, sometimes painfully slowly, shift. We have seen the emancipation of slaves, the suffrage movement, the civil rights movement, the women’s movement, all in the last 150 years. This is after, literally, millennia of slavery, and the de-humanizing of women, persons of color, queer folks, the poor, and anyone who is not a white, heterosexual, middle class (or “better”), CIS, male.

One hundred fifty years is barely a drop in the bucket when you look back three to six thousand years.

The shifting of our culture feels slow. And it is taking multiple generations. And will likely take multiple more before we live in a world where racism, misogyny, ablism, and homophobia are quaint things of past.

And.

With each movement, more movements are born. With each small shift there is a ripple effect.

And those ripples are getting larger. And stronger.

And the more we do this work of shifting ourselves and our world, the more we see the importance of doing this work with love made of justice, compassion, empathy, and boundaries.

Love is not always gentle. In fact, I believe love can actually be rather rude. Love shows up when we set our own boundaries and love shows up when we respect and honor the boundaries another person has set for themselves, whether we like those boundaries or not.

Love is willing to be uncomfortable. To sit in the discomfort of unraveling our own familial and cultural training. To sit in the discomfort of unraveling the trauma that lives within us and sorting what is ours, what is our ancestors, and what has absolutely nothing to do with us or our lineage. To sit in the discomfort of sometimes being wrong and causing harm and doing the work to make amends. To sit in the discomfort of acceptance that we are not always in control, and that sometimes honoring the boundaries of another person can be personally and emotionally painful (not harmful, painful) for us.

Love is fierce. And can be filled with rage. Love can be loud and bold and demanding.

Love is sometimes gentle too. And can be quiet. Love is supportive, always. Love is in the giving and receiving. To ourselves and to others. Always and in all ways.

Love is not a bully. It is not used as a weapon to cause harm or manipulate and impose unrealistic expectations.

Love is a comrade. It is a tool we can use to deconstruct our oppressive culture. It is a tool we can use to create a new world where there is justice and safeness and the embracing of differences.

Love is speaking and listening and hearing. Love is respecting and honoring.

The Christian bible states in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 ::

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

I can agree with most of this. And, I do believe that love is not blind, that while it doesn’t keep score and it does trust, it is always smart and aware and knows who and when to trust and when not. Love is not gullible.

Love has been a tool for change within myself for most of my life and in particular I have leaned on love this year. Love for my Self. The love of friends and family. Love as a verb. Love as a lesson. Love as a breathing, shifting, thing that both has torn me apart and put me back together.

May we all use love as a tool for destruction of our own old harmful patterns and ways and for creation of new ways of being which invite ourselves and others to live in compassion, empathy, justice, and truth.

/../

This essay originally written in December 2017 for the subscribers of my newsletter.  I edited it a bit for publication here.  If you’d like to subscribe to my weekly love letters you can fill out the form on this page.