Lake Lewisia #544

You simply couldn’t ask dancers to sit still, especially a troupe like Bare Feet on the Road, when faced with the choice between dancing merrily on the side of the highway, toes tangled with the stems of wildflowers and drying grass, or remaining seated in a stuffy, broken-down bus. The Gender Vegetable drummer leaned up against a tire and thumping out a rhythm for them looked more or less human, but the same could not be said for dancers whose heritage included crossroads dust not only on their feet but in their veins. So it took several hours, and a number of false starts with both professional tow trucks and random drivers, before a battered old farm truck stopped near the bus and the driver stayed to help even after introductions had been made.

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LL#544

Today's Keyboard Smash

I made two whole phone calls to doctors' offices today. (Because of course I'm getting jerked around again, but never mind that.) I experienced only a light emotional spiral, give or take a triggering of my disordered eating issues. This is way more than I should have to do on a Friday, a day dedicated to recovering from the week. I am proud of myself, all things considered.

In other news, someone well-known whom I like has announced they stepped in it and will be removing themselves from the public sphere out of respect and atonement. What is the "it" in this case? I don't know, and I didn't fancy going down the social media rabbit hole required to find out. Further knowledge would just make me sadder. I'm deliberately not naming names because I don't want to deal with the discourse directly or invite others to dump that unwanted further knowledge on my head. If you think you can guess who I'm referring to, go ahead and award yourself a gold star for being maybe-right and keep it to yourself.

I have complicated feelings about this person's choice to apologize, shut down their normal channels of communication, and Go Away. (Not to be confused with "taking your ball and going home," this is intended as genuine penance, as far as I can tell.) Since I don't know the exact nature of their offense, I can't say what a more...personalized reaction from me might be. But I was struck by a particular frustration: The people who are willing to shut up and learn, the ones who are genuinely contrite, are often the ones who quietly go away like this. Probably that's the correct response. It is both a form of respect toward those they have wronged, and it is a form of self-defense against digging a deeper hole.

At the same time, though, it seems that they've merely ceded more of the public discourse to the sort of person who is not contrite and will not shut up. They're certainly not going to quietly retire. Now there is one less voice to counteract them and their ongoing bile.

I don't need people to be perfect. I don't need to Cancel (TM) anyone who has ever made a mistake, admitted it, and did better. What I need are genuinely decent people who have learned some shit to stick around and pull some goddamn weight in solidarity. I don't know where I read it, but the phrase "no allies, only accomplices" or a variation thereof stuck with me. Speaking only for myself when I am part of the marginalized group in question, I'm not invested in your performative penance as much as people seem to imagine. I want to see you give effort or money or platform to counteracting the harm you have been part of. I want you to stick around and do the work.

Maybe that's what this person will do eventually. Maybe this is just the first step, rather than the last. I would like that to be the case.

Of course, it's possible that the offense is far greater than I'm aware. The sort of thing from which a person can't come back, the sort of thing that forever after removes them from all decent society. In which case, I am just deeply saddened that someone I once liked and respected has revealed themselves to be appalling. I mourn the loss of the person I had imagined them to be. The person they actually are can feel free to fuck off forever.

Time, I suppose, will reveal which of these scenarios or something else entirely it might be. I, not being known for my patience, choose to wring my hands about it now.