Making Revolution with the Faggots – Monday Meditation

In the QSA, members argue about how best to support all folx represented by the letters in the wide, wonderful cauldron of alphabet soup. One member points out that almost no groups in the area currently support plain ol’ lesbians. “We’re still here, you know!” she says. Another member argues passionately that we’re more powerful all working together, and that separating into smaller and smaller identity-based groups will only work to our disadvantage. “The assholes want us to stay isolated from each other!” they say. “Only my trans brothers really understand me, though!” whispers a young man tentatively. “When I’m with them, I can finally just relax and be myself.” “I know,” agrees the femme. “I can really let my hair down when I’m with other femmes. Maybe it’s a question of needing both kinds of groups – support groups that are more narrowly defined and action and social groups that include us all?” “That will just end up leaving people out, though,” counters another member. “I don’t know anyone else who’s exactly the same as me, so where do I go for support?” There is no good answer, and the discussion is ongoing.

In the 1977 homo-psalter, The Faggots & Their Friends Between Revolutions by Larry Mitchell, with drawings by Ned Asta, the faggots would be nowhere without the the women who love women, who would be nowhere without the fairies, who would be nowhere without the queens; the queens who “know it takes all kinds to make the revolutions”. All of these folx have their own kinds of knowledge and fuckery and wisdom: the queens elaborate their forms of outrage, the fairies have left the men’s reality in order to destroy it by making a new one, the faggots cultivate beauty and harmony and peace, and the strong women remind the faggots that in the coming revolution we will get our asses kicked and that we will win.

All of these folx love dessert, women’s wisdom, the earth, fucking, kitties, community, gossip, rule-breaking, gardens, masturbation, books, visions, each other. Sweet words from this sweet book to end this meditation:

They know that without the uncalculated giving of affection everyone is lost. They know that friendship freely given sustains them.


Oh, Girl

You know, President Obama said “pussy”, too. Or maybe it was “cunt”. Anyway, it was in his book, Dreams of My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance and I experienced it as liberating. Here was a thoughtful, conflicted, loving person using sexual language to talk about his life as a man, a black man, a straight man, in the US. I use sexual language to talk about my life as a woman, a white woman, a queer, a femme, and I use it with love and as a way to access my own power. The man we’ve put in the White House after President Obama moves on does not use the word “pussy” in any of these liberating ways. He wants it, and he grabs it. End of story.

Sending Hilary love and gratitude today and may she continue to evolve and do good work for all of us. Rest up, and come back fighting, girl. I know you will.

Early this morning, at the dawn of another gorgeous New England fall day, Tex and I turned to Rachel Maddow for her take on things, and later, I’m sure I’ll check in with Amy Goodman, Mia McKenzie, Winona LaDuke, my mom. I’m thinking about the Raging Grannies. I’m thinking about the American Indian midwives working on reservations to bring back a more loving way of welcoming children into the world. I’m thinking about the baby born in the Standing Rock camp. I’m thinking about the women singing true and strong in the all-trans choir, Butterfly Chorus. Of all the women, dykes and straight, tearing it up on college campuses, in non-profits, politics, music, media, literature. I’m thinking about the girls in the fourth grade class I’ve been reading to every week, and their older sisters in middle school and high school. I’m thinking about my indomitable femme friends and colleagues scattered across the country. I am sending love and pussy power to all of us.

“Stay in your body today, baby,” Tex said on her way out to work this morning. Despair is so heady.

Love your pussy today, sweet darlings, take solace and find strength in pussy power. Regardless of what’s between your legs, lovers, you have the power of pussy. We need our pussy power and our bodies and our love today and going forward. Think pussy. Think revolution.