The War Never Left

I was asked to speak Veteran’s Day at an anti-war event by the Chicago Vietnam Veterans Memorial. While I would like to spend a bit more time refining this message as it feels like a run-on sentence. Here is the speech as penned. “My name is Edgar Gonzalez. I’m a teacher, a veteran, an artist, an immigrant, a latino, and I’m queer. With the president elect, I would be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t scared. I deployed to war Iraq in 2005, and came back home in 2006. Many would say that a war is coming. I say that the war never left. It’s always been there, in the corners of the TV screens, in social media posts, in newspaper stories, in the communities which have bad news reported with the matter-of-fact assumption that bad news always happens there, like the south or west sides of Chicago. The war is present in the way that churches are firebombed because the congregation is black. Or the way that we are told that we are told that we should be afraid of immigrants from “over there in the Middle East” because they might be terrorists while we ignore the terrorists in our own house. The war is present in how an armed militia of American men can occupy federal land, be peacefully negotiated with, and then later acquitted because of the color of their skin, while Native people are first ignored, then maced, spied on, tear-gassed and bulldozed by police forces using the same equipment I saw used in Iraq while the First Nations are defending their right to clean drinking water. The war is present in the military industrial complex which refuses to hire a transgender woman at a grocery store, or a restaurant, or a clinic; criminalizes the sex work she will turn to as a means of survival, but then lifts a ban on transgender people enlisting on the military because the quotas of enlistees from poor communities can no longer satisfy the military’s need for bodies to send to the front lines of conflicts so wide-spread and far-flung they are as difficult to keep track of as number of unarmed black people gunned down by police, the black women killed, or like Marissa Alexander, jailed because they are put in impossible positions, or the trans women of color with such disdain that if it weren’t for the activists mobilizing and imploring us to #SayHerName, we might never know about them at all. The war is present in how economic policy devastates our infrastructure, starves our education, leaves millions of people without jobs by downsizing any industry which does not have a direct tie to benefit of a war based economy and insists that there is no money to tend to the sick, without inflating big pharmaceuticals, or for education, which might rob the military of a pliable uncritical mind they could recruit, rebuild a crumbling infrastructure that might provide our families clean drinking water, safe roads to travel on, heat for our loved ones in the winter. The war has been here and is roosting in the hatred the Trump campaign has inspired and emboldened. The kind of racism, sexism, xenophobia, islamophobia, transphobia, and homophobia which the Trump campaign has legitimized. Against the war, it is important to remain educated, dedicated, and ready. The battles are in discussing uncomfortable topics outside of social media. In breaking of dinner table taboos and speaking out for what you believe in. Our battles are in the premise of being. Of being an immigrant, latinx, queer, a woman, trans, a veteran, a muslim, black, or any other race or religion. In doing what you do to carry yourself, your family, and your loved ones forward. In the backlash against our communities, existing is a battle in this war. In my opinion - being yourself fully, openly, aggressively loving is one of the battles you can win every day. Take care of yourselves Take care of each other Educate yourselves Support the people who organize by being present, or by making snacks for them to take to rallies and marches, or by being a check-in buddy for them, donating time or money, getting involved with political organizing, getting involved in local politics and running for school boards, and local positions. We can move forward de-militarizing police, properly funding education, providing healthcare, providing shelter for the homeless. We CAN confront this new assault of racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia. Steadfast Shoulder to shoulder taking care of each other. “

Between Sleep and Awake

My dreams are reverting to that weird cusp between reality and fantasy which is nigh indistinguishable. Last night I dreamt that I got to go to a series of concerts to musicians and groups which I could have sworn I really enjoyed maybe a decade ago, when I first got into acoustic music and almost famous artists. The issue is that while the names elude me, the memories of the style , aesthetic, and sound were such a close approximation to reality in spite of being total fabrications of my psyche. I spent a better part of my morning trying to recall if I did indeed listen to bluegrass, or or music which had eccentric guitarists who were talented but would not garner main stream attention. The fact is I did, and do. They were simply no the musicians I dreamed of.
The night prior I dreamt I was in some shopping mall in France, but a few Russian speakers were also there. I think I was separated from my traveling group in that scenario. I speak basically no French, and can read maybe more than I can understand, sometimes. I was a lonely stranded expatriate in some indeterminate location which may as well have been an airport. Overall, it is a totally feasible situation which can happen, but has not happened to me. I find the nature of the trend towards the uncanny realism rather than the overt impossibility of the tings I usually dream of fascinating.

Maybe it is time to consider a different location to lay down some roots.

Chicago has been my home for over twenty years now, and there are many things and more importantly, people who live here who I love very much. All together those connections make the thought of relocating somewhere else really difficult if not damn near impossible. But it is NEAR impossible. After many years of nagging and an offer I could not refuse some friends drove me out to Easton Pennsylvania in the Lehigh Valley. It is near New Jersey, and not far from New York City. DC, as well as other choice destinations are anywhere between 2-3 hours away by car. There are several annual festivals with plenty of arts. I have had lackluster luck in trying to establish myself here in Chicago. Part of me thinks it is some sort of underlying current of self-sabotage. Another part of me thinks it has more to do with my stubborn refusal to do anything but what I studied in college to do because it is something which makes me happy rather than money. Money is however a necessary evil and living on such limited means when work appears to be scarce and what work there is is either minimum wage slavery. On an aside: we should raise the minimum wage and even McDonald's conceded in a very condescending report that if you wanted to live on minimum wage, you can't. You must have more than a McJob to do so. But whatever pride, or principles I claim to stand for has kept me from applying for a fast-food job are being pushed to a limit. That limit is relocation. If I can find some sort of meaningful employment which will sustain me, and permit me to do what I love: teaching art to adolescent age youth somewhere other than Chicago, why shouldn't I uproot myself elsewhere?

After 2 decades....

I just read this article.

I am aghast at the notion that in two decades the same statements are paraded forth and sexual assault continue to be a problem. The idea that commanders are doing anything about the epidemic of sexual violence at this point in time is laughable, and so devastatingly devoid of any iota of the purported values of honor and integrity, so profoundly and disappointingly bankrupt I struggle and fail to determine who has failed military sexual assault victims more: Military Commanders for allowing such a brazen problem to fester in their monumental denial, or Congress and the Department of Defense for not holding the Commander accountable to their word 20 fucking years ago?

Reflecting on the DOMA ruling today

When I came out to myself almost a full decade ago, I had resigned myself to the notion that there were some things in life which were never going to happen for me. There were things which I would never have and dreams I had to quell because of who I was, and what that legally meant here in the United States, let alone also serving in the military. It was a part of me I had parted with, which I saw as necessary in order to move forward with my life. It was my rearranging of the reality I constructed. Because of who I was, my religious identity changed because my being queer was seen as an abomination and a sin. I could not get married because that was something hetero folk did. Marriage was something which, looking back on now, I had subconsciously discarded. It was not something I was ever going to do.
I loosely followed the debate on the "Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA)", as well as "Don't Ask Don't Tell (DADT)". I felt the acute sting of betrayal when the first repeal of DADT failed, and elated when it finally was repealed. I knew that the Supreme Court was going to rule on DOMA this year after the knockout drag-out fight over California's discriminatory "Proposition 8 (Prop 8)". I knew that equal rights were something which was happening in small but important steps across the nation. That every year, and every election, there were small victories. Iowa was kind of surprising. Then eventually Washington State. But there was the challenge taken up to the Supreme Court. They ruled this morning that portions of DOMA were unconstitutional. There was in that ruling happiness that they did something which gave more rights to people who did not have them. There is irony in that they took some voting rights away just the day prior. But here was a federal path forward toward equality. Like Loving v Virginia, and the Civil Rights Act of 1964, here was another landmark ruling. I celebrated along with the hundreds of friends too elated by the ruling. And then it hit me. There is the possibility of if I fall in love with someone, and want to spend my life with him I can in the future get married. I was so overcome with emotion, it was like reuniting with a someone who I had thought dead, mourned, and missed brought back from the dead. I was paralyzed, weeping, and contrary to my countenance so overcome with happiness psychologically, and biologically, I had no clue how to react. I'm still grappling with the notion. A door I thought closed, and bricked over was all of a sudden open once again.
There is still a great deal of work to do. There are several states for which the ruling changes nothing for same-sex couples who wish to marry the one they love. There is still a tremendous and arduous fight for transgender rights both nationally, and for the military. In Illinois because there is no recognition of same-sex marriage, the ruling on DOMA is essentially meaningless. But the fact that it happened, is a monumental step in the right direction.

This has me on the verge of tears, and I am not sure if I will be able to stop if I break.

The Veteran's Affairs department as whole in the United States is striving up there as a spectacularly epic national embarrassment and shame. Veterans have to wait as much as 15+ months to hear whether or not they will receive treatment for their claim. There is a backlog of claims that is years long, and hundreds of thousands claims high. All this in gratitude for those who fight for our purported freedom... you know... if you still buy into that fairy tale. But still, the established promise we pay lip service to is that if you served in the military, you were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, and we as a nation are in your gratitude. So why are there as many if not more than 22 veterans per day committing suicide, and 53 veterans dying per day waiting for their claim to be processed? Why is it that some veterans will make the impossible choice of committing suicide? I have no personal connection to Mr. Young, but I am emotionally devastated, and beyond ashamed at the United States.

Imagine for a moment that at your workplace, every day, there were 75 people dying off every day. It doesn't have to be your workplace, it could be your neighborhood How would you cope?

I feel such an acute pain of the betrayal this embodies by people who lionize and extol the virtues of our military service members, send us to war and then ignore us. My faith in the purported values of the nation is shaken to it's core. There is no excuse for this, and no amount of remarkable success stories which can overshadow this. This is damning and verges on the unforgivable.

A Moment of Reflection

I was looking through old posts in terms of what were some of the goals of things I wanted to have in my life. I was pleasantly surprised that I am actually kind of subconsciously realized one such goal: Having a Salon Style Art Display. In the past year my bedroom walls have become filled with an array of various artworks acquired as well as decorative elements, and show posters I like have meandered and accumulated on my walls.

Today I went to an opening for another gallery show. I've been sort of a hermit, and art making should not happen in the echo chamber of my own environment. I always find inspiration with various art collectives when they have different shows. This Opening had two shows "From Motion to Stillness" and "Copy*Right?". Both shows were well thought out and worked very well within the conceptual framework of  the titles. While I was inspired, I did come away with a growing sense of my own artistic insecurities and the fact that I am not sure the work I make in my spare time would be worthy of display alongside these artists. I'll definitely need to consider what work I consider "done" and what I could revisit....