Activism in daily practice.
Apr. 9th, 2003 12:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
judecorpI wish I had something witty to say tonight. Instead, I'll say thank you. Thank you to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
doulamel for the "minimalist duck." Thank you to wasted_breath for secret date night. Thank you to crushinator and laughingsal for joining us for coffee. Thanks always to kieron for being my partner-in-crime.
~//~
If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you. (John 15:18-19)
When I was in high school, in my younger, bitter-er, more activisty, idealistic years, I used to draw a lot of strength from this passage. There is something about doing what's right that angers people. There's something worse, it seems, about living the convictions that other people pretend to have. In some ways, that reminds me of Nick Hornby's How To Be Good. The idea that someone is paying more than lipservice to those ideas that we /know/ we're supposed to support can be infuriating at times. And when people actively /try/ to practice what they preach, they're immediately suspect, a possible fraud. We call them "brown-nosers" or "goody two-shoes," mocking them because it's significantly easier than living their lives.
I don't think the world, in general, hates me. But I think that sometimes society does. Not only do I buck the flow of society, but I dare to show, daily if at all possible, that things /can/ be different. That those dreamy adolescent ideals can be reality, can be lived. It's easy to conceptualize being a pacifist, embracing diversity, championing the good. Like being an armchair activist, philosophical virtue is unchallenging and lazy. It's also inadequate.
I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and your joy may be complete. This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. (John 15:11-12)
I do it for the joy it brings, because I'm a joyful girl. The world owes me nothing; we owe each other the world. I do it because it's the least I can do. I do it because I learned it from you. I do it because I want to. (Ani DiFranco)
When I was angry with a friend once, I wrote this. It was September of 2001 - buildings had just crumbled, and emotions were high. I so rarely get angry like this. Reading it now, I can feel the hurt, and how it led to exaggeration and overreaction, though there is truth to it all. I am amazed, looking back, at the force of my ire, but I stand by my words:
I may not always be popular, but I'm proud of myself and how I live.
doulamel for the "minimalist duck." Thank you to wasted_breath for secret date night. Thank you to crushinator and laughingsal for joining us for coffee. Thanks always to kieron for being my partner-in-crime.~//~
If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you. (John 15:18-19)
When I was in high school, in my younger, bitter-er, more activisty, idealistic years, I used to draw a lot of strength from this passage. There is something about doing what's right that angers people. There's something worse, it seems, about living the convictions that other people pretend to have. In some ways, that reminds me of Nick Hornby's How To Be Good. The idea that someone is paying more than lipservice to those ideas that we /know/ we're supposed to support can be infuriating at times. And when people actively /try/ to practice what they preach, they're immediately suspect, a possible fraud. We call them "brown-nosers" or "goody two-shoes," mocking them because it's significantly easier than living their lives.
I don't think the world, in general, hates me. But I think that sometimes society does. Not only do I buck the flow of society, but I dare to show, daily if at all possible, that things /can/ be different. That those dreamy adolescent ideals can be reality, can be lived. It's easy to conceptualize being a pacifist, embracing diversity, championing the good. Like being an armchair activist, philosophical virtue is unchallenging and lazy. It's also inadequate.
I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and your joy may be complete. This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. (John 15:11-12)
I do it for the joy it brings, because I'm a joyful girl. The world owes me nothing; we owe each other the world. I do it because it's the least I can do. I do it because I learned it from you. I do it because I want to. (Ani DiFranco)
When I was angry with a friend once, I wrote this. It was September of 2001 - buildings had just crumbled, and emotions were high. I so rarely get angry like this. Reading it now, I can feel the hurt, and how it led to exaggeration and overreaction, though there is truth to it all. I am amazed, looking back, at the force of my ire, but I stand by my words:
You know, it's really easy to have convictions when there's nothing to challenge them. It's no big deal to be a person of principles when those principles coincide with reality. Right now, the harsh reality is that there are people who embrace hate and terror and violence. It's easy to cry peace during peace time. You may think I'm taking the easy way out by calling for love and peace and wu wei. Is it easy to stand in front of cannons with a smile? Is it easy to stick a flower in a gun barrel? Is it easy to hug someone who is beating you down?
Tonight I was going to put my money where my mouth is.
Tonight I was going to hug you and smile for you and laugh with you, even though I am devastated, even though I am crying inside. Who is taking the easy way out? Who is running?
You're a coward for wanting to hit everything with dark skin.
You're a coward for running from turbans and beards.
You're a coward for not saying goodbye.
You're a coward for making excuses.
I've had my fill of cowards this summer.
I'm sorry.
I may not always be popular, but I'm proud of myself and how I live.
