What I’ve been up to…

Hi, y’all!

I know, I know…I’m the worst.

I’ve been gone forever and a day, but I’ve got a good excuse!

I was working to protect regular folk from wretched policies being foisted upon my beloved Missouri by über-conservatives and their in-state minions.

Blink.

No, really.

Anyhoo, I’m back. 

Shall we?

Shark-Fu’s quick review of a few of the horrible proposals passed this session…

#1 The failure to pass Medicaid Expansion…and why there’s a special place in hell for people who support taking a dumb ass stand…

The Missouri legislature failed to pass Medicaid expansion…again.

Because…um…freedom?

Yep, apparently the “brave” wanna-be patriots who killed Medicaid expansion this time are dedicated to defending the right to die from lack of access to health care.

Hundreds of people will die due to lack of access to healthcare…access that the legislature had the opportunity to extend and chose not to because they hate Obama more than they love their fellow Missourians.

This shit would be amusing…if we weren’t two years in on a life and death situation.

The fight continues...

#2 Tis like watching a 10-vehicle car wreck in super slow motion…all the while knowing that the very people elected to prevent shit triggered the “accident” like this…

In a move that Missouri will likely suffer from for years, if not decades, to come…wince…the Missouri legislature passed a massive tax cut that will benefit rich folk while leaving average Missourians with a devastating financial crisis.

One need only look west to Kansas for proof that politicians can make all kinds of promises…but tis reality that comes knocking on the door when bad proposals become law.

I’m particularly concerned with the ripple effect of this mess. The immediate impact will be to schools…but pretty soon Missouri’s lack of income will hit programs that my autistic brother depends on.

Heck, we haven’t seen an increase in SNAPS funding in a decade…he qualifies for several really cool programs but transportation for stuff like that hasn’t been funded for years, so…

And now they’re taking more money out of an already underfunded system, and…I just can't bring myself to imagine what's left to cut. I know I'll have to soon. We've only got two years to plan for this mess, but...damn it.

Let's continue...

#3 The same folk who sleep well having denied thousands of Missourians access to heath care costing hundreds of lives in the name of less government, also decided to shove government all up in people’s lives by tripling the mandatory waiting period for abortion…

I had the honor of leading the communications crew for the Women’s Filibuster in Jefferson City last week. It was a truly amazing experience, seeing my fellow Missourians stand up and speak truth to power…and we all drew strength from the support we received from all over the world.

The legislature passed a bill that triples the mandatory waiting period for abortion care in Missouri.  So, we stood at the Capitol and conducted a citizen’s filibuster for 72 hours…from Monday at 2pm until Thursday at 2pm. 

They passed the bill, but we hope Governor Nixon will veto it. 

Because, freedom.

Stay tuned, friends!

On a disturbingly regular basis...

You know that scene in the movie Love Actually?

The one where Emma Thompson goes into the bedroom she shares with her husband, after having found proof that he’s likely cheating on her, and collects herself so that she can go to the Holiday event at her children’s school without freaking them the hell out?

I repeat a scene much like that…on a pretty regular basis.

Not because I’m in a relationship with someone who is unfaithful.

Or maybe I am…in a way.

I repeat that scene…a deliberate pause, tears threatening and heart pumping, followed by a visible resolve to soldier through despite the pain…on a disturbingly regular basis, because I live in a country where a black man is seen as a threat simply for being a black man.

Longtime readers know a bit about my brother…that he is the older of my two older siblings and he has autism. He is aphasic, and he makes loud funky noises…he gets excited when he likes a song and he twirls and dances.  He looks “normal”…a lot younger than his 43 years, but still “normal” in presentation if not behavior.

So, I know that his behavior could get him beat up or shot.

He likes to look in car windows.

He doesn’t understand “the rules.”

He likes people…and the smell of freshly washed hair or French fries on someone’s plate.

We work on it with him…we watch him closely.

Because we live in a country where black men get shot and killed for seeking help after a car accident…or refusing to turn down music…or walking home after going to the corner store.

I don’t know how to guide him.

I just don’t know what to do!

Do I tell him to seek help if he gets lost?

Do I tell him to find a police officer?

What will happen when he can’t speak or explain?

Will strangers try to understand?

Or will they open fire and ask questions later?

And so, on a regular basis…at least once a week, and sometime more often than that…I find myself in the bathroom preparing to go to work and I pause to grab the counter, take several deep breathes and then smoothing my hands down the front of my outfit.

I breathe in.

Exhale.

Repeat.

Because I have to go about my day despite the anxiety and fear.

I don’t want to become that sister who won’t approve any community outings. I've come up with this ritual so that my brother can have some semblance of a life despite the world we live in and the dangers it presents.

Breath in.

Exhale.

Grab car keys…tell self to move forward.

Walk, damn it.

Drive.

Get out of car.

Smile.

Greet others.

Please, please, please…oh, please.

Log on and check email.

Lord, I give him up to you…again…always.

Work.

At least once a week, and lately far more often than that.

Sigh.

So much has changed and so much remains the same.

"In thinking of America, I sometimes find myself admiring her bright blue sky—her grand old woods—her fertile fields—her beautiful rivers— her mighty lakes, and star-crowned mountains. But my rapture is soon checked, my joy is soon turned to mourning. When I remember that all is cursed with the infernal spirit of slaveholding, robbery and wrong,— when I remember that with the waters of her noblest rivers, the tears of my brethren are borne to the ocean, disregarded and forgotten, and that her most fertile fields drink daily of the warm blood of my outraged sisters, I am filled with unutterable loathing, and led to reproach myself that any thing could fall from my lips in praise of such a land. America will not allow her children to love her. She seems bent on compelling those who would be her warmest friends, to be her worst enemies. May God give her repentance before it is too late, is the ardent prayer of my heart. I will continue to pray, labor and wait, believing that she cannot always be insensible to the dictates of justice, or deaf to the voice of humanity."
Frederick Douglass to William Lloyd Garrison - January 1, 1846

RIP Betsey the Sorta-Beagle...

It is my sad duty to report that Betsey the sorta-beagle, my beloved pet-companion for over a decade, passed away yesterday morning.

She was 15 years old.

Longtime readers will remember Betsey as a badass bundle of joy who often kept me centered when all things were anything but balanced.

Our house is a little too quite without the click of her nails on the floor, the strangely soothing rhythm of her loud as hell snoring while napping, or the sharp clap of her outraged bark when the mail comes through the slot.

She will be dearly missed.

If you are so inclined, please donate to Stray Rescue of St.Louis in her honor.

Adopting a rescue dawg was one of the best decisions I ever made in life...and I encourage anyone who is considering adding a pet to your family to do the same.  Betsey was two years old when she joined our family and, since she was far from perfect, she fit right in!

Many thanks to the wonderful staff at Hillside Animal Hospital for their loving care and support over the years and during Betsey's final moments.

And special thanks to my sister C-Money for everything.

Rest in peace, happiness, and endless joy, Betsey the sorta-beagle!

Forever in my heart...always.

On calling out the shit in the middle of the room…

Happy 2014, y’all!

I’ve been absent from the internets for a long spell. Between a starting a new job (yay!), dealing with some personal drama (not so yay, but getting better), and news that Betsey the sorta-beagle is in the process of dying from cancer (sob)…well, there’s been a lot of offline distractitude in my world.

Sigh.

But I’m back, so…

…shall we?

***pause…sip coffee and snuggle Betsey the sorta-beagle…continue***

I’ve observed several recent Twitter-based corrections within the feminist world and I’ve noticed a pattern. 

More accurately, I’ve noticed a continuation of an offline pattern take place online.

Someone within the movement indulges in a public display of privilege/bigotry, people point it out and express their outrage/shock/pain/disappointment, and then other folk start talking about tolerance and how we shouldn’t eat our own.

Cue chaos…more outrage/shock/pain/disappointment…and folk fretting about how all of this is bad for feminism because the world is watching.

I’ve been blogging for some eight years (gasp) and this ain’t new. Longtime readers know that I’m not a fan of the school of tolerance. One tolerates a stench and hopes it goes away. I don’t know many folk who want to be the stench of feminism.   

When a person takes a shit in the middle of the room tis important to everyone within that room that 1) that shit gets cleaned up, 2) the source of the shit understands that shitting in the middle of the room isn’t acceptable or productive and is the very definition of insulting and disturbing, and 3) that folk appreciate that the room shitter, through the act of shitting in the middle of the room, has reset reality and will have to prove over time that they understand that and aren’t going to gleefully take a public crap again.

We all get this. 

It isn’t confusing. 

We’ve all watched some amazing Twitter-based and/or online actions calling out room shitters.

Nope, this isn’t confusing…until we encounter a situation where the shit in the middle of the room originated from someone on the left.

Did I mention that this ain’t new?

This fumble over how to address wrongness from within keeps flaring up…and tis why I’m committed to making 2014 a year of realness.

Y’all, it is beyond important that we encourage and respect authentic responses to public displays of bigotry and privilege. 

If women of color had a dollar for every time we’ve been told to give someone a break after they just took us out at the knees, we might be able to fund an international multi-media campaign to educate the masses on why we ain’t trying to hear that shit.

And it is critical that we cease tolerating and explaining away displays of bigotry and/or privilege from within.

The whole world is indeed watching and nothing damages a movement like hypocrisy. That’s why we are quick to gleefully point that mess out when conservatives do it!

Lawd knows I’m a better activist for having been told about myself along the way…for being forced to look at my shit in the middle of the room and clean it the hell up…and for being given the gift of an opportunity to learn and grow.

Toodles.

Small town values and unlocked doors…

Years ago, I received an email from a woman who was looking for some guidance in how to help guide her two teenage boys through a situation where one of their friends had confessed to rape.  The rape survivor was also part of her sons’ social circle. 

They all lived in a small town in rural Missouri.

I replied that I am in no way qualified to provide specific advice, but would reach out to some folks I know who are and get back to her.

The woman explained that she became concerned when she didn’t know what to tell her sons after their friend was raped and then another friend was arrested.  Her sons admitted that they were torn between liking both friends and being disgusted by what one had done to the other.

The mother's fear…her confusion and frustration came through, loud and clear. 

After forwarding a list of resources, I couldn’t help respecting this mother for reaching out.  And I couldn’t help wondering how other parents were responding to similar situations.

I thought of that mother and her sons when I read about the rape case in Maryville, Missouri.

About how that community responded…and what those responses teach everyone, young and old.

While some ask how such a horrible crime can occur in small town Missouri, this Missourian is left wondering how anyone can expect a different outcome when community members support a world view that protects men who rape and terrorizes those who have been assaulted.

There are those small town values that make people proud that they don’t have to lock their door at night…

…and then there are those small town values that make a body wonder how anyone sleeps at night.

Blink.

Something about October…

Gawd, I love this time of year. 

The air is crisp…the trees in the park are beyond beautiful…and the sorta-beagles can stay outside for extended periods of time without frying like bacon.

Sigh.

I recently updated my LinkedIn profile and realized that I tend to make career changes in October.  Twas an interesting realization…that for well over a decade I’ve moved forward to new jobs in October.  And I don’t think it is a coincidence, because I do tend to use July and August to take stock of my world and evaluate what’s what.

Well, there’s just something about October.

I’ve been offline because I recently wrapped up my time on staff with Planned Parenthood Advocates in Missouri and started up as Communications Director for Progress Missouri.  I enjoyed five amazing years with PPMO and learned tons about reproductive health policy, those who oppose access to reproductive healthcare, and myself. 

You can’t do this work and not do a lot of inner work along the way.

Pause…consider…continue.

Well, you could do this kind of work and not do the inner work along the way…but odds are you wouldn’t be doing this kind of work well.

Anyhoo...

I’m thrilled to embark on this new journey and I hope to take y’all along with me.

Throughout my life I’ve taken the road less traveled by…and yeah, it has made all the difference.

There’s just something about less traveled roads in October.

The air crisp and fresh.

The trees exploding with color.

 

Something that demands exploration and that a body enjoy the journey so much they almost forget that there is a destination at the end of it.

Pause...breath deep...exhale.

Shall we?

Fantasy hockey…with a dash of bitchitude!

Last night was my first fantasy hockey draft and it was beyond fun.  The Futastics is gonna whoop some ass!

Welcome the Futastics to the wonderful world of bitchitude…

Steven Stamkos

James Neal

James van Riemsdyk

Loui Eriksson

Pascal Dupuis

T.J. Oshie…GO BLUES!

Scott Hartnell

Vladimir Tarasenko…GO BLUES!

Duncan Keith

James Wisniewski

Oliver Ekman-Larsson

Christian Ehrhoff

Alex Steen…GO BLUES!

Cody Franson

Brandon Dubinsky

Jordan Staal

Sergei Bobrovsky

Braden Holtby

I’ve got some Blues…a Stamkos…a Staal…and more than one Russian.

I’m totally set.

Let’s go, Futastics!

Pondering Rick Perry's Missouri shopping spree…

Ready?

Set.

Go!

Texas Gov. Rick Perry spent the month of August shopping in the great state of Missouri.

He’s running a load of ads…tons of ads…so many damn ads that I’m beginning to wonder if he plans to invade Missouri and this ad blitz is part of his plan to soften Missourians up for our future domination.

Pause…shudder…continue.

Rick Perry wants Missouri companies and workers to move to Texas…and his ads center on how Texas is a better place to live and do business.

Audacious!

I mean, that takes some SERIOUS brass.

But wait…it gets better.

The Missouri GOP are all for Perry's shopping spree because Perry is preaching about tax reform and they are trying to rustle up the votes to override Governor Nixon’s veto of a dangerous tax bill.

Mmmmhmm.

For real.

Way!

Full disclosure: I lived in Texas for over seven years (hey, Dallas!) and I’m still rather fond of the state. 

But…um...what works in Texas will not work in Missouri.

See, Texas has a revenue source that Missouri doesn’t…a source that adds so much money to the state coffers that elected officials in Texas are struggling with the math.

Rick Perry failed to mention oil in his ads…or that Texas gets revenue from oil…or that the money they get from oil is kind of [translation: very] substantial. 

I’ll cut Ricky some slack, 'cause remembering and understanding shit isn’t his strength.

But the Missouri GOP needs a fierce correction.

Trying to override Governor Nixon’s veto of a fucked up from the floor up tax bill is one thing.

A stupid thing...a bizarre thing...a dangerous thing that makes folk question those legislators' ability to lead.

Cough.

But inviting a political vampire like Rick Perry to tour Missouri, tell us how our state sucks and pitch Texas as a better alternative, all so y'all can attempt to use that media blitz as proof that your fucked up tax bill isn't fucked up is...well, that's the very definition of fucked up.

To add insult to injury, the same MO GOP fools who invited Perry to Missouri…threw open the door and cheered as he marched on through…might as well have thrown a parade for his ass…yep, those fools have gone mute on why businesses and Missourians should stay put.

Is it too much to ask that those elected to represent Missouri actually represent Missouri by championing the state and defending her against this attempt to seduce away our motherfucking jobs and talented workers?

Could it be that those legislators behind this tax bill actually hate Missouri?

Gasp.

Pause…sip coffee…consider.

Good Gawd, that might be it!

If the tax bill had become law it would have done incredible harm.

But even if the veto holds...and Lawd, please let it hold...we've still got to deal with the ramifications of a month-long recruitment blitz from Texas!

Add a healthy dash of the state's legislative leadership failing to say a damn thing in defense of Missouri during that month-long recruitment blitz...and well, methinks there's a conspiracy to blight the entire state of Missouri!

Gasp again.

Where's Oliver Stone when a bitch needs him?

Blink.

Ain’t gonna let nobody turn me around!

Shall we?

I haven’t been blogging.

I took an extended break, because I needed to work through a serious case of doubt.

Yep…doubt.

I doubted my ability to make an impact.

I doubted the inherent decency of my fellow humans.

And let me tell you, doubt like that will stall progress and I mean stall it good!

I didn’t want to pass this doubt along to others, so I stopped.

Stopped tuning in…ceased blogging…and stood still.

When in doubt, particularly when that doubt is about my social justice work, I turn toward history.

Yep…history.

History shows us that experiencing doubt is normal…

…and that succumbing to  doubt is exactly what The Man wants. 

I’ve been diving deep into movement history to treat my doubt.  The amazing thing about the activists who made the Civil Rights Movement happen is that they acted through the doubt…they marched in spite of the unknown…and they participated in demonstrations when threats were real, fear was valid, and those who were sworn to protect were preparing to do damage.

Suffice it to say, the Eyes on the Prize Treatment Plan has done wonders!

Today, on the 50^th Anniversary of the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, I’m recommitting to the cause.

And I ain’t gonna let no body turn me around.

Bitchitude is back.

I just won the 2013 Maggie Award for Community/Personal Blog!

Many thanks to Planned Parenthood Federation of America for honoring my post about Anna Brown with the 2013 Maggie Award for Community/Personal Blog.

I'm still floored to have been given the award by Melissa Harris-Perry.

OMG!

Holy shit.

Yeah...still floored.

By the way, Melissa has fantabulous shoes.

Anyway, many thanks for an amazing experience!

Click here to read the Maggie Award winning post -> For Anna Brown, who died on the floor of a police cell…

A quick pondering of Rage Face...

I’m in DC for work and I caught the tail end of a morning news segment about the man behind that YouTube video featuring some über angry dude loading a shotgun.  Tis illegal to do in DC, so there’s been a lot of coverage. Plus, the dude was in full rage face and that made the video both compelling and scary as hell.

The rage face dude is promising an armed and loaded march on Washington…oh, and he’s also preparing for the next American Revolution.

Blink.

As I listened to Rage Face go on and on, while standing in the same spot he filmed the video, I couldn’t help but be struck by the privilege oozing from the situation.

The fact that he was able to do what he did…right out there in the open in the middle of some random afternoon…wasn’t shocking.

Nope, that’s life.

Rage Face wasn’t even aware of his privilege…hell, he was probably pissed that he wasn’t getting arrested or charged up or even noticed by anyone other than the news crew filming his triumphant return to the scene of the crime.

And that’s life too.

So, I’ve been sitting here waiting for folks to show up for the morning session of the conference I’m attending…sitting and thinking about the privilege of anger. 

My mind keeps returning to the trial of George Zimmerman for the murder of Trayvon Martin and the recent testimony of that young man’s father. 

Returning to how both of the victim’s parents are visibly holding back so much emotion. 

To how Trayvon’s father is so clearly in mourning…his face a mask of sorrow that makes my heart break.

And I can’t help but wish they had the same right to a face of rage that millions of other Americans have.

I wish they could shout and scream and let it all out...over and over and over, even though it won’t make it better.

Rage won’t bring Trayvon back.

And no amount of rage face will guarantee justice.

I guess that’s why the parent’s of murdered children all have that look in their eye that suggests a level of anger too volatile to set free.

Because they know…they’ve learned the hard way…that justice is the lie the system pitches because the truth of loss is just too much the take.

Pause…sip coffee…continue.

Which brings me back to Rage Face with that shotgun…and his outrage over the very thought of someone taking his gun…and the thousands upon thousands of folks who think he did a great thing because they share his outrage.

His outrage that someone may take his gun.

May take someone’s son.

Could take his gun.

Could take someone’s son.

Are thinking about taking his gun.

Are thinking about taking someone’s son.

In a country where some can load a shotgun two blocks from the Capitol without comment while others get shot for the crime of walking home after buying snacks.

Best wishes and thank you to Pam Spaulding…

Pam Spaulding has announced that she is shutting Pam’s House Blend down.

Although I’m saddened by this news, I can only thank Pam for her years of on and offline activism…and wish her and all the bloggers of PHB the very best. 

Here’s the PHB post on the Pam’s House Blend segment from the Melissa Harris-Perry Show.

Good luck, Pam!

On the domestic spying story...oh, and a digital fruit basket for Frontline!

Happy Monday!

Okay, maybe not “happy”…but, coffee makes everything better.

Shall we?

When news broke about the federal government’s domestic surveillance program, I was shocked.

Shocked, I tell you!

Not by the scope. 

Not by the companies and agencies involved. 

No, I was shocked by the shock…

…and apparently Brother Rob Thurman was too.

Longtime readers know that Brother Rob gave this bitch my blog for my birthday many years ago…and that he has since moved back to Kentucky to get his farm on…oh, and that he freakishly jumps up in my head by having the exact same reaction to news-based shit.

Anyhoo, I came home one day late last week and fussed with at my sister C-Money about the fact that this spy story shouldn’t have shocked people. 

I understand and agree with the outrage…I understand and agree with the disapproval…and the reason I do is sourced in the reality that the probability of this shit was revealed by Frontline on PBS years ago.

Later that night Rob Thurman called.

“Pamela, I’m confused.”

“By what, Rob Thurman?”

“Well, have you heard about the domestic spy story breaking all over the place? Didn’t this story break years ago?”

That’s when I screamed at Brother Rob to get out of my fucking head.

Mercy.

Tis true that the details are new…the companies and agencies involved are newish…and the masses have reason to be outraged.

But we couldn’t help feeling for the folk at Frontline who gave us a damn good look at the probability of this shit back in 2007.

Frontline worked their asses off to produce a very entertaining and informative “Y’all need to keep an eye on this shit the way meteorologists keep an eye on severe storms” investigative report… 

“President Bush described his anti-terrorist measures as narrow and targeted, but a FRONTLINE investigation has found that the National Security Agency (NSA) has engaged in wiretapping and sifting Internet communications of millions of Americans; the FBI conducted a data sweep on 250,000 Las Vegas vacationers, and along with more than 50 other agencies, they are mining commercial-sector data banks to an unprecedented degree.” Frontline - 2007

…but this story is being reported like a brand new breaking news story of never before heard of shit.

And that’s got to work a reporter's last nerve.

So, Brother Rob and I decided to gift the good folk at Frontline with a digital fruit basket.

We were watching, good Frontline folk! 

Blink. 

More on speaking truth to power – when they tuck tail and run…

Can I just tell y’all how much I adore coffee?

I love coffee!

And clearly I’ve had a wee bit too much of it.

Blink.

Shall we?

As I mentioned in my previous post, speaking truth to power is important and finding the balance between a successful engagement and a media circus can be challenging.  Another challenge is that those in power…those folks who can pass progressive policy or shit the bed…well, some of them are cowards who fear the masses.

For example, leaders in the Missouri General Assembly worked their asses off to derail Medicaid expansion this session.  They talked a big game to the press and gleefully engaged in public displays of callous disregard for months.

When thousands of Missourians showed up to lobby the issue, the GOP caucus fled the scene.

Literally.

They left the Capitol and met offsite, presumably to discuss how annoying it is when Missourians show up to ask them what the hell they are doing.

Now, I’ve lobbied for years on a lot of different issues.  And I’ve always been impressed with legislators who took meetings, listened to my concerns, and then explained why they disagreed and planned to vote the wrong way. 

The way I see it, if you can’t look the people in the eye and listen to them then you don’t belong in public office.

Oh, I also understand the fear. 

I get it, for real.

When you don’t have a good argument for doing something, the last thing you want to do is be confronted by thousands of people asking why the hell your ass is blocking Medicaid expansion.

Still, it was a shocking display of tuck tail and run. 

Anyhoo, the people will not be ignored.

Cue Missouri House Speaker Tim Jones and his magical fantastical listening, but not to you, tour of 2013.  Missourians have been following Speaker Jones all over the state in an attempt to get him to listen to them about Medicaid Expansion.  By the time the tour reached Eureka, Speaker Jones was so moved that he closed an open meeting. 

Blink.

But speaking truth to power can also get generate progress.

Speaker Jones recently announced that he will appoint a special commission to study Medicaid expansion. 

That brings me back to the balance between a successful engagement and a media circus. 

One person’s action is so often another person’s circus.

Just ask Speaker Jones.

All I know is that as long as those in power continue to tuck tail and run, they can expect the people to follow and speak their truth.

A fluff of the Afro to Missouri Medicaid expansion activists – let’s do this!

Pondering action, ENDA, and speaking truth to power…

I know, I know…it has been forever and a day since I last posted.

I’ve been practicing the fine art of bitchitude offline…

…but now I’m back.

Shall we?

Yesterday, an activist interrupted a speech by Michelle Obama to demand an executive order from President Obama granting civil rights and protections to LGBT people.  I support those who stand up and speak truth to power, even when folk take that stand in locations the powerful feel are activist free.  

This shit had truth but methinks it was misdirected.

Let’s back up and review what happened.

Michelle Obama was giving a speech.  An activist stood up and shouted out the demand for an executive order.  According to witnesses, Michelle Obama stopped her speech, said, "One of the things that I don't do well is this," and approached the activist.  Michelle Obama then inviting the activist to "listen to me, or you can take the mic, but I'm leaving. You all decide. You have one choice." The crowd said they wanted FLOTUS to continue her speech…the activist was escorted from the event.

As I said, I support folk who speak truth to power. 

The problem here is that FLOTUS doesn’t have the power to issue an executive anything. 

Now the donors in the room certainly have power…but I’ll get back to that in a bit.

So, the activist that was escorted from the event responded with…

"Basically, I was asked by the first lady to be quiet, and I can't be quiet any longer. ... I was surprised by how negative the crowd seemed to be. It was actually a little unsettling and disturbing."

And…

"She obviously thought she was going to make an example of me or something. I wasn't scared at all."

Pause…sip coffee…continue.

I have the feeling that if Michelle Obama wants to tell someone to be quiet…she tells that person to be quiet. 

In this case, she didn’t tell the activist to be quiet. She made it clear she wasn’t going to try to talk over someone…acknowledged the activist by approaching her…and even offered to mic to said activist.  If anyone told the activist to be quiet it was the crowd in attendance to hear Michelle Obama speak. 

That same crowd that was full of donors…yeah, I’ll get to that soon.

As for the activist’s “surprise” over how the crowd reacted, I call bullshit. 

What exactly did she expect?  And I’m being serious here.  I’ve interrupted my fair share of events…to speak to folk who are hard to get access to and who actually have the power to do the shit I was demanding…and I can tell you that my ass expected all kinds of reactions and wasn’t surprised by any of them when I did that shit.  This was a DNC fundraiser of some sort and you’d have to be one hell of a naïve activist to expect that crew to stand up and cheer you on when you interrupt Michelle Obama.

Pause…shake head…continue.

For the record, I too want to see an inclusive ENDA passed.  Hell, I even like the idea of an executive order…Lawd knows the House isn’t going to pass ENDA unless we can make the case that LGBT people are actually a firearm. 

Sigh.  

Okay, tis time to get to that shit about the donors in the room!

Given the Democratic Party’s lack of energy for ENDA, both in grooming candidates and educating the electorate, methinks the activist should have stood up and turned toward the audience and told those folk to pressure the administration to grant an executive order…or at least said something to them about ensuring that their donations go toward supporting folk who will get ENDA passed.

Because money still talks…and if the money in that room qualified for a speech by Michelle Obama then the money in that room probably has the power to make shit happen. 

The last time I checked, political activism is about moving toward the prize. 

Otherwise tis just poorly staged and badly acted theatre.

That brings me back to what the action was supposed to accomplish and we can evaluate that through how it is being covered. 

If the activist was trying to talk to Michelle Obama, that shit didn't work out well.

If the activist was talking to motivate the crowd to support an executive order, that shit didn't work either.

Are people talking about ENDA and why we need it?

Or are folk talking about how Michelle Obama reacted to a public display of a lack of home training?

Sigh.