377 days, Blog #166 courage and consequence
So I’m a bit of a coward.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about taking politics out of
my writing. Sad thing is I want to start
making more money from writing.
I don’t think readers really like my politics. I have strong opinions, but no desire to make
people angry or convert them. I’m okay
with making people uncomfortable, because I don’t mind being uncomfortable in
my thinking. I consider that a sign from
the universe that I need to learn something.
Clearly, right now I need to learn a lot of things.
There is a local blogger who does that sort of thing I
mentioned above. They express a strong
opinion to incite anger. I can’t say
that my understanding of this writing is well researched and that my opinion is
an abrupt conclusion from the three or four posts I’ve had the stomach to
read. Either I end reading shaking with
frustrated anger or crying because I am so disappointed in my community for
agreeing enough to share and increase the readership. I’m also disappointed in myself for
reading. More disappointed for not
having the courage to express how very much I disagree with the author or the
poster… but that’s the thing… I’m afraid of my opinion being unliked – or worse
yet, mocked.
No, let me strike that.
I’m not afraid of having an unpopular opinion. That’s the story of my life. And I know quite frankly that being unpopular
is a twisted form of popularity. I’m an adult; I don’t need to be liked by
everyone. I do try to avoid being hated…
but hey, I have enough calloused skin to appreciate that is going to happen no
matter what person I am. I’m mostly
afraid that what I say doesn’t matter.
Or if I provoke discomfort by asking the question, I am actually doing a
disservice to the issue by making it once more something to avoid.
A few months ago I found out second hand that some people
about whom I care very much appreciate my posts, but had to make the comment
that I sometimes go too far. Well,
yeah. That was the point. But then… if that is the belief and they stop
reading… do I not hurt the good things just for the benefit of rattling one
cage or two on a few topics?
And if I am a writer who wants an audience, how badly do I
hurt myself?
Am I selfish for wanting to build a platform for fiction and
silence my voice in the fight for social justice?
I can’t tell you how much this tortures me and makes me
ashamed. I’ve been given a voice. Not really a strong voice, but determined
enough to fake strength. Except, I’m a
female… and the thing is when you are determined or strong, you are often cast
as a bitch. Or in the case of my
political leanings, a whiny entitled leftie hippie. Both of which are
stereotypes used to weaken my voice and opinions. And maybe they have.
Racial bias is a very important topic to me, which should be
no great shock to anyone who has read this blog with some regularity. I’ve had the good fortune of a career that
has enabled me not just to learn but to have very engaging and thought
provoking conversations about this social injustice. I enjoy those conversations. They really make me think and question and
seek out ways to learn so I can know better.
I feel it has put me in a good enough place to know that I am comfortable
with being called out for anything I say or do that exhibits a bias or…
insensitivity. I just look at that as an
opportunity to be a better person.
There is a lot of dialogue happening in Worcester… or at
least the airwaves I seem to be reading… where people don’t want to be called
out for racial bias. The rally cry of
reverse racism is flung at those who question and heels dig in the ground
insisting that they don’t see race so it isn’t the a problem. The problem is manufactured by those who see
it. (People of color, who might actually
live it. Those who don’t live it can say
it is imagined.)
This isn’t my fight, so I stay quiet. Because… I’m just not in a place right now
where I want to enter the argument. But…
isn’t this what I was thinking about when I came back to Worcester, fueled with
thoughts after working for Urban Improv?
Seeing the seething tension and wanting to be part of the solution. But if I only succeed in alienating people
who don’t want to listen… how can I help solve anything?
I really shouldn’t make myself so altruistic. The plain and simple fact is this is about
greed. I want more readers. People who will pay to read my words and not
pass me over in this crowded sea of literature because they don’t like a few
things I have to say.
Maybe this is just another form of doubt – or the ‘resistance’
as mentioned in my favorite The War of Art.
An excuse to not do anything and just think myself into crippled
inaction. Or maybe I just wrote my way
into the thing – the voice I want as a writer.
A strong voice that isn’t afraid to stand up and speak a truth. Who won’t be silenced with the fear of being
condemned for speaking that truth as a bitch or blinded by some hormonally
askew emotional disorder.
Earlier this week, I put on Facebook that freedom of speech
does not mean free from consequence.
That goes for all speech - the good, the ugly, and the ill
informed. Everything we say has
consequence. It’s unavoidable. It could actually be a good consequence –
people who like what I have to say, no matter how cage rattling. And there will be bad, even with the
good. People write some really nasty
reviews on Amazon. But I know that is
more about the speaker than it is about me.
Every action has a reaction. I
just have to choose the action.
Because the same rule applies to silence.
Comments
Lots of thoughts going through my mind while I read it, and much like so much in my life, I don't have the time or energy to TRULY convey what I would like to.
For example, I know that I am the subject (sometimes specifically, sometimes generally) of parts of this post, and I think it's interesting how closely you and I feel about many things, especially some of the subjects you wrote about here.
Perhaps sometimes you feel that people are not listening when really they are just living their lives. And it doesn't always coincide with your values or your experience of life at the moment. I could justify a lot of the things I post and say, but I can't... I'm tired and I'm passionate about other things, and I'm just trying to get through the days.
My reason for posting the article earlier this week was complicated and (at least in my mind) justified. It hurt me to think that you consider me as someone who would ever spread hate, or not choose love. The article was intimately connected to the education system, which I am currently inside as a teacher... and struggling, immensely. I was posting the article as a way to shine a light on something that hit home. Like you said, words are sometimes there to fire people up, and we can both admit that Turtle Boy at least manages to do that. No, I didn't agree with everything they posted, but how could I?! There are very few things in this world I have ever completely agreed with, and so I either take the good with the bad and allow people to filter it themselves, or I would never be able to share another piece of writing in my life. Most likely including my own.
Anyhow, sometimes in a virtual playground, I get the feeling that you really don't know me the way I think (or thought) we know each other. Or that perhaps you just don't like me very much?
Anyhow, all this to say: I really enjoyed this blog post. I could seriously write two thousand words in response, but I'll leave it at this, and hopefully we can pick up the conversation sometime in real time.
It is kind of apropos that something I wrote about my fear of my writing provoked a response I did not intend or imagine.
Anyway, I am sorry if there is anything you took personally to the point of being hurt. Yes, yours was A post I read and commented on this last week. It is just one of so many instances of that blog (I will not identify it so it shows up in a search) that I have seen on my feed. I actually felt that your response was a thoughtful one and showcased your perspective as a teacher, one from which I readily admit I do not see things now or in other parts of my life.
That said, this post was mostly provoked from my own shame and frustration with myself about the larger picture of writing. I want to be a writer who makes a living by her art. I want people to read what I write and be moved – moved to be better people and think about topics that interest me in my fiction writing, but also (like I said) quite selfishly to pay for my writing. I really do fear that my opinions of the world are not what people want to read because they have other things they want to think about or spend time doing. That’s okay. Of course it’s okay. But… it’s not really okay if I want an audience to pay (attention) for my art.
It is frustrating when I see people who write and get reactions by saying cruel/crude things. I want to know what is wrong with what I say that it isn’t good enough to be shared or talked about. And that isn’t meant as a woe is me contemplation. It is a legitimate search of my soul and curiosity of how I need to change to find an audience who cares enough to put aside whatever and engage with my thoughts. Maybe I don’t have it. And if I could have it, would I really want to change? That is really what scares me the most.
I do feel the part of this with which you resonated (as are many things) is better suited for conversation and multiple perspectives. I hope we can have that conversation some day, because I do value your thoughts and vision of this world.
xoxo