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....

An Arbitrary Anniversary

Eight years ago, I was fighting the flue and had missed a drill weekend which was part of my commitment to my contract with the United States Army Reserves. I actually agonized over whether or not I would go to drill that weekend because while I was sick and feeling rather miserable, I also had a misguided sense of duty combined with a diminished sense of self-care. I ended up doing what could be considered the responsible thing and stayed home with my sickness. It was February 13, 2005; a Sunday morning. My supervising NCO (Non-Commissioned Officer) called my house asking to speak with me. She asked me how I was, and if I was recovering well, and if I was sitting down. I said I was, and she replied with "You're going to Baghdad". Whatever visceral emotional response I might have had, I will never know. Reflexively I was a clear minded professional calculating a thousand things which were contingent on my almost robotic reply: "What's my timeline?"

The next day was a series of phone calls, and e-mails to school. I was within a year of graduation of a series of classes which I had fought tooth and nail through a portfolio review to get into. It was imperative I knew I would have my place held or if I was going to have to resubmit my portfolio again. I had to notify work, and I had to let certain friends and family know I was leaving soon - really soon.

After a few farewells, and a few very encouraging metaphorical but well needed kicks in the ass, I was not sad when I was saying my farewells and good byes. I consequently found out I would have far more time than the "This Thursday" my NCO told me, as there was training I had to complete prior to heading overseas.

The deployment was a profoundly formative experience in my life, which I cannot say with any sort of confidence that I would be the person I am today were it not for that experience. There are people whom I would have never been put on a path to meet were it not for how my military service and actually deploying affected the way I think, and helped shape my values and beliefs. There are people like Marc-Anthony, or Cherie whom I would have never spoken too or been fortunate enough to befriend. The introduced me to Sacha Sacket, wonderful ideas, and unbridled kindness of strangers. A longer lasting kindness than the Bangor Troop Welcomers, who also are very deserving of my respect.I would have never met the other "nerdiest person in the batallion" Lysandwr, my deployment girlfriend! If I had not deployed to Baghdad I would not have taken an interest in foreign languages and cultures, nor would I have gotten involved with the Vet Art Project, and met Lisa, Jessa, Tim, and subsequently Aaron, Sabrina, Nicky, Vinny, Alejandro, Barry, Hans, or Iris. My friendship with Susheela would not have been as nurturing nor fulfilling. I would not make the kind of art which I am making now, nor would I explore the ideas and grapple with the issues which I grapple with now.

So today, I honor my eighth anniversary to my deployment to a war we should have never fought, but my involvement in has made me a more conscientiousness and engaged inhabitant of the world.

Trying to organize my thoughts and creative impulses

In the past three days I have started preparing at least 5 canvases of varying sizes with a distinct spacial constraint in my work space. I'm juggling drying space with two easels on which I work with either painting or waiting for something to dry just enough before I continue working on it. Overall I am building backgrounds, though technically the works as they progress can be abstract explorations in themselves.  could leave them as well enough, but the premise is unsatisfying and weighs as intellectually lazy on my part considering I have several concepts which I have been toying around with. The intersection between my starting such a big workload in such a short time given my sporadic art making schedule is I am starting many surfaces and I am not certain or completely oblivious to how I am going to finish each artwork. I generally have two series of works which I have been working on recently or researching to work on; Idle/Idol Worship, and basically making works generated from a pool of artists whose work I admire. Both of these ideas generate several lists in how I will explore each concept.

Idle/Idol Worship was a concept which emerged from the sort of celebrity worship which starts in the teenage years with an unchecked zeal and fervor, but wanes over time. As an adult I keep that impulse in check to some degree, but I still have several favorite actors/actresses, singers, performers and celebrity individuals. My students do as well. They plaster their notebooks with printouts and cut outs, draw pictures of them for class projects, have stickers, and basically make small sort of shrines to them in their belongings. In this idea, I have been looking at the celebrities which I have followed overtime, and taking that similar kind of "celebrity worship" and juxtapose it with different religious images and representations, such as candles, and I would wager a lot of Medieval and Renaissance Art. In a sense it is a look at what other people including myself worship besides religion, and how that worship manifests itself in visible ways.

In the second which is basically a stitching together of elements from various artists and art movements I like, it is a little more nebulous and difficult to pin down. Consistently on my list are artists Jose Parla and Kehinde Wiley. I love Parla's free-flowing abstractions of script and the way he takes elements from the street such as wheat pasted posters, advertisements left behind, and layers onto them washes of paint and scripting. From Wiley I admire his skill in rendering his figures in such a naturalistic fashion, imitating the works of historically lauded dead European/White men and mixes in the decorative elements with very garish flowery sometimes feminine aspects to them. Generally any sort of realism involving the human figure draws my attention, and lately a lot of that has been J.C. Leyendecker and Jack Vettrianno's works. Usually I will find some random photo on a fashion blogging site and apply elements from everything I have listed in this paragraph.

I am not sure which way I will veer in this bountiful problem... though it is not a problem at all. After all, more art is a good thing.

The uncontrollable reflex of making meaning of random events

After three and a half years of working with the Community Arts Sustaining Academics at Hurley Elementary, it was decided that what I was doing with and for the students and what the School Administration would like to do with the students were no longer coalescing in the administration's interest. Having to show evidence that the program coordinators are working with their partners schools, they let me go. Today was my last day at Hurley Elementary, and I was touched by how much people there saw me as a part of their community, and their genuine surprise and heart-rending disappointment that I was going, and that my transition from there was only one day. I told my students the news and many of them responded with a loud and whining "Why?!" followed by a resolute "I'm just not going to come to class anymore." which also had the sting of feeling scorned. After all, this was not the end of school year fare well, but a sudden withdrawal and change in their routine. We took a photo together, and then I explained what we would be doing in class that day, how the class was going to change in a broader sense with the new art teacher, and that I would miss all of them very much.
Both before and after class, I sought out the people who I had worked with in the past three and a half years and gave them a small sealed "Thank you" card personalized with a short thank you for all the ways in which they had welcomed me and made me a part of their community, and how I cherished what they had done.  Some people, including in the administration expressed surprise and a palpable sense of disappointment, as if my departure was an injustice to them on some level. It was very heartwarming what they shared with me in my last work day. At the end of class, each of my students wanted to give me a hug, so I obliged. I organized the materials as neatly as I could in the cramped storage space, grabbed my bag and walked out of the building. Having been notified about my transition from the program, I had already mourned and basically accepted the reality of what was happening. To a certain degree, it paralleled my experiences bidding my farewells to friends, colleagues, and professors when I was deployed to Iraq. They were more distraught than I was at the moment.
On the drive home, listening to my playlist, two songs played consecutively; a paring which begged, and reflexively claimed meaning. Individually, and in any other context you can put any two songs together and assign them a meaning based on the situation. I had paired the song "Disarm" by The Smashing Pumpkins with an eight kilometer ruck march in Basic Training. My best friend had sent me the lyrics in a letter and I had read them prior to the march so fragmented memory of how the song went played in cadence with my footsteps. The song "Such Great Heights" by The Postal Service is forever associated with my family and a friend and his son dropping me off at the airport post Easter Sunday before I deployed to Baghdad. Given the context of those sample situations, the lyrics from the songs, such a memory is very strongly imprinted to those melodies. So after the ordeal of saying farewell to my students, and my seemingly sudden departure from the program, the songs "Used" by Sacha Sacket, immediately followed by "Risk of Change" by Holcombe Waller summed up both the mild bitterness from being let go, but also the ideals I would like to further embody in this new calendar year.
I do hope that my kids have been changed for the better, and they remember fondly the time they had spent in my class.

Chicago Ideas Week: A Critique of The Military Talk From the Battle front to the Home Front

I took advantage of an opportunity from IAVA to attend the Chicago Ideas Week Talk at the Goodman Theater. It was about the Military, and it was titled "From the Front Lines to the Home Front". The quantity and type of corporate sponsorship made me very skeptical and critical of the framework for the discussion from the get go. It seemed outright that the only ideas worth discussing were ones which could turn a profit for someone, and I really wish my impression was more wrong than right. Tom Brokaw led the audience through a two hour block of discussions, talks, and presentations featuring General Colin Powell; General Stanley McChrystal; Founder and Executive Director of Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America Paul Reickhoff; Melissa Stockwell, Veteran and Paratriathlete; Taryn Davis, founder of The American Widow Project; and Maj. General Marcia Anderson, the highest ranking African-American woman in the US Military. I hold a certain degree of respect for Colin Powell, even though he played a key role in the events leading up to the US Invasion of Iraq, a distraction which I think directly affects the fact that our efforts in Afghanistan have gone on as long as they did. General McChrystal commands a little bit less respect, but my reasoning is only slightly more nebulous. There was a lengthy period of time which was spent stroking the egos of the financial sponsors of the event, JP Morgan, Chase, and Time. There are other companies, but the JP Morgan and Chase logos were plastered all over the place. I think were I live-tweeting the event, I might have made snarky remarks mocking what the people on stage said. When the VP of the Midwest branch of JP Morgan Chace, he mentioned the 100,000 veteran initiative, in which it is the goal of participating companies to hire 100,000 veterans. My question immediately was whether or not they would be subsequently fired. And considering that JP Morgan, along with Citigroup, and Bank of America are among the biggest institutions evicting people, how many of the evicted are veterans, and how many of these veterans have they offered jobs? or at least struck some sort of deal so they can keep their house?
The one statement which I agreed with which he spoke of was the idea that "Veterans can, in a sense, mentor all of us."
My skepticism was fully engaged as it appeared there would be little to address the fact that most of the young men and women who enlist don't do so for love of country, but more because the military is usually the best option they have in order to further their lives because they were born into less than stellar conditions. Yes there are people who do enlist out of patriotism, but to say that is the only reason they enlist is an incredibly narrow and selective view of reality. Brokaw did an articulate introduction in which he mentioned the immorality of having only one percent of a Democratic Nation bear 100% of the pain, hardship, injuries, and casualties for the rest of us.
General McChrystal and General Powell did hit on several kernels of truth in when you are with a unit, be it a company, platoon, or squad; when you are out in the field, whatever your military occupational specialty, it is ultimately about your team. When service members separate from the service either due to injury, or not re-enlisting, they are separated from a team, and because of their experiences, they really don't have a team looking out for them when they get back to civilian life, and they become stuck kind of in between.
One of the major themes which emerged from the two Generals talking could best be expressed in this metaphor: how can we get military cogs to fit into a civilian machine? What McChrystal and Powell spent a great deal of time on was how do military skills translate to a civilian economy? For me, this seemed to miss one of the other great failings in this nation, how do we help veterans as whole feel welcome in society, and what can we do to help the ones who are injured, hurt, or hurting. They did talk about the Wounded Warrior Project, and The Mission Continues, and other wonderful projects, but the amount of time spent on the economy over other issues was telling of the panel's priorities. There was a poignant moment which General Powell mentioned that at a veteran's luncheon he met a veterans who had lost three limbs and was basically recruited by a real estate company in California. The company wanted him specifically because he was a veterans, and they were aware of his condition. The young veteran said that losing three limbs was the worst thing which could have happened to him, but it was also the best thing which has happened to him. This served as an introduction to the concept that businesses from the small to the mega corporations should be proactive in recruiting veterans into the work force. I think in spite of the fact that this still is within the pitfall of basically putting profits over people, it was a step in the right direction.
Another relevant and kind of astonishing fact, General Powell again mentioned some interesting comparisons in how we were more engaged as a nation during previous wars. I can't recall what war he mentioned (I want to say Vietnam, but I am not sure), but with the ratio in the number of wounded back then was such that there was one wounded veteran for every sixty-some-odd civilians, so the fact that we had been fighting a war was impossible to ignore. Now we have a ratio of one visibly wounded veteran per 7000 civilians, so the effects of war are not as prevalent, and all but under the rug and swept for this generation of Americans.
I am reminded of the Robert E. Lee quote "It is well war is so terrible, lest we grow too fond of it." I am afraid though that as a nation we have grown to fond of it, and in part is because we do not see the destruction which has been wrought, not just to the nations where we are waging war, but in the households of all the wounded veterans. Mind you, when I say wounded, I am not just referring to physical injury, but also stress disorders, PTSD, and other similar issues. I think as a society, we have not really had to confront the reality of war here in the United States. the closest we have come to that as a nation was the attacks of September 11, 2001. Another good thing which did emerge from the seemingly endless talk about veterans and the economy was the fact that while a veteran can face combat, and the dangers of deployment, civilian life is a challenge which they are not always prepared for, and it is up to civilian to be proactive in reaching out to veterans and their loved ones and help them find a team here.
Paul Reickhoff took the stage after the two Generals left. His talk seemed a little bit more centered in reality, but not by much. He does address what would be the middle issue of not every veteran comes home wounded, not every veteran is a victim, and many are in fact quite proud of what they did, and well should be. He did address the fact that the VA is not enough, and with their backlog of 1 million, that is 1,000,000 claim backlog, things with the VA are progressively getting worse, and this is creating an abhorrent situation for veterans. He did provide a statement which does answer the empty-calorie sentiment of support the troops; give them a job. But it was still largely centered in the larger notion of simply getting getting veterans from the battlefield to a job, addressing very little of anything which might be important in the details of that transition.
Melissa Stockwell presented a much needed female veteran perspective. She spoke of how her father, even in the 2000's still had the thought "They let women in the military?" It is both an amusing, but rather disturbing notion that people still hold that sort of mentality in the 21st century. She has since become an accomplished Paratriathlete, and a Prostheticist helping other people, not just troops reclaim some sense of normalcy in their life with a new limb, and technologies which have advanced to the point that it is not just a prosthetic, but simply a "different leg". She did remark on how because of her injury, she has done more since than she would have if she would have come home whole. I think people who are usually confronted with obstacles like a missing limb have often put the rest of us able-bodied people to shame in that they seem to do so much more.
After Melissa stepped off stage, Taryn Davis shared her story, which addressed how families of soldiers are veterans, but also how in this generation there are many young women who are acquiring the rather dubious title of "Widow" at a very young age. She had married her high school sweet heart, Michael Davis. Taryn recounted the day she found out about Michael's death, and my heart sank. I think this was by far the most human presentation/discussion in the entire panel. She spoke of the surrealness as she had gotten a ride from her parent's house by a neighbor to see two soldiers in front of a military vehicle shaking and barely holding their composure because they did not want to tell her that Michael was dead, and show because of this she thought they were telling another military wife. After the funeral, and a few months later, people discounted her grief as a widow because she was so young, or because "he knew what he was getting into when he enlisted" and to Taryn, it seemed a better option to join her husband than to go on living. When she finally went to Google to search "widow" and Google responding with "Did you mean 'window'", she had found new purpose in the other young military widows, and started the American Widows Project. I think this is one of the toils of war which we do not hear about. I actually had not even considered the premise of young 21 year old widows. The idea is so bizarre and unreal if you really think about it, but they exist!
I think Taryn would have been a great place to conclude the presentation, if anything because of the warmth and the fact that her story resonates most with tugging at the heart strings. No offense to Major General Marcia Anderson, but her presentation I thought was a very sharp turn back to the "we need veterans to get the economy going again" mentality. She spoke about the experience that reservists have, and how they are probably most like the ninja veterans in that they can be in your communities and you may not know that your neighbor is a reservist. I think it is important to have her voice and experience as the highest ranking female of color in the military, but it seemed like a very abrupt transition from something so centered on a sense of heartfelt community and emotion, to go back to  business minded approach. She did mention two organizations which help reservists, Fort Families, and Army Strong Community Centers. I think if she were to keep with the emotional tone of Taryn's presentation, perhaps if she highlighted specific stories or went more into the details of the New York Veteran who was homeless with a bipolar disorder that was helped by the Rochester Army String Community Center, it may have had a sense of thematic emotional continuity. I will give due respect to Major General Anderson, to make it to her rank and boast proud titles like Mother and Grandmother among her other accolades is a respectable achievement in a male dominated field.

Freedom of Speech & Freedom from Consequence

I have been following the news a lot lately with issues like Daniel Tosh's unfortunate spate with rape jokes, if they could be called that. There was also pundit Jonah Goldberg stating that young people who believe we should take a turn towards socialism in some areas of the government are stupid, and should have said stupidity beaten out of them literally or figuratively. In general, people posting some very controversial an unpopular or erroneous opinions, then crying foul when someone calls them out on how their opinion is offensive, and making proclamations that the critics are stifling this person's freedom of speech. I think what has happened is people are conflating Freedom of Speech with Freedom from Criticism. They usually think their opinion is sacrosanct, and when people disagree with them in a vociferous manner or counter their opinion with some larger ramifications of stated opinion, they react poorly to said criticism. It is almost as if they are surprised that people either disagree with them, or think they are wrong.
People, specially people in the realm of celebrity and influence should chose their words more carefully. Someone hears what they have to say, and take it as the thing to do, or believe, which in turn has greater consequences. As one of my favorite journalists Allison Killkenny once said, and I am paraphrasing a bit... "It is not our job to make bullies and bigots comfortable." People should take responsibility for what they say. This applies to bullies, pundits, but also to community members on the local scope, such as teachers, preachers, and family members.

I'm not a preachy vegetarian, don't be an asshole omnivore

One of my brothers appreciates how I'm not super vocal and preachy and over the top about the things that make me even more of a minority than what I already might be considered. I'm not a super swishy over the top out gay man, and I am not a pushy, preachy, holier-than-thou vegetarian. I figure, just respect people whoever they may be, and let them make their own decisions even if you may not agree with them. In other fronts I may be a little less forgiving, or push back against views I don't necessarily agree with, and my decision to be vegetarian has seldom been one of them. Overtime however, there is the accumulation of small snippy comments along the lines of "more meat for me", and "How could you not like bacon?!" which pile up. They are like small pebbles thrown at my head. They are more annoying then damaging. However if you get enough of them, they accumulate, and maybe slip into your shoes, and eventually fester and aggravate. I have remained respectful of other people's decision to eat meat, and I do not think that it is too much of a stretch of the imagination to expect similar respect in return. However when you crack a joke like pigs are vegetarian, so ham is actually vegetarian too; you are not being clever. You are not being funny. You are being a disrespectful asshole who has become worthy of my contempt. I try to do vegetarian right. I eat plenty of vegetables, and fruit. I try to avoid the bread and pasta pitfall some people fall into sometimes at some restaurants, or at family gatherings where the menu is poorly thought out. I don't constantly preach about how you can actually get more than enough protein being vegan or vegetarian if you eat the right grains and legumes, or how it helps you lose weight, and lower blood pressure, or the other multitude of benefits that being vegetarian can bring (if done correctly). If you crack a joke like the ones I mentioned above when I mention I am vegetarian to you, do not be surprised if I smack you upside the head for your blatant disrespect. Granted, I tend to avoid physical violence, as we are supposed to be a civilized people. But I do hope you understand if I do not speak to you again and that you enjoy your heart disease, and diabetes 20 years from now.

convictions, or lack thereof: musings on NATO, protesters, and teaching

I have had NATO and activism on the mind, and I am not sure how I can reconcile my sentiments on this. In spirit, I support the protesters in their actions, but lack the courage and conviction to be out there on the streets with them. What little I have is too tenuous and fragile to destabilize it further, and I am trying to make peace with what I have, and the change I am hoping to enact in this world as a classroom teacher. I recognize that may have been an abrupt transition in topics, but if I make a point of discussing systemic inequities in society in my classroom, is that not a form of protest? If I point out that there are injustices in the world which are not necessarily globally spanning sentiments, but things which are in the very halls of the schools where I teach, in the homes of my students, and in the neighborhoods; and that NOT accepting certain things as truth and immutable is itself an act of rebellion, and a catalyst for change? While I do not want to equate the actions of a protester who marches to express their grievances to the world leadership (who, in my opinion, are clearly not listening or paying attention whatsoever), and my day to day toils with students, in the long term, are we not going for similar goals: change for the better? The kind of change which does not make for a fancy feel-good political campaign, but the change where people collectively feel safer, more trusting in the general good-will of their fellow person, and not looking for any and every which way in which to take down everyone else in order to get ahead, or at least keep another from advancing?
Today many military Veterans symbolically divested themselves from their Global War on Terrorism Medals, Operation Enduring Freedom Medals, and Operation Iraqi Freedom Medals. Neither NATO nor the United States Government send any representative, which I guess were expected to be present, to receive them. Their gesture spoke volumes about the veteran’s convictions; which I admire. I also think that the NATO or US leadership could not be bothered to send anyone to hear the grievances of the protesters is also very telling. The fact that politically, they basically outfit the police in a fashion akin to a soldier going on patrol is very telling of how things have changed now. It is scary, and I hope that in the end general decency and good will prevail; though thinsg are seeming more and more doubtful.

A Wrench in the Works

I had a sort of epiphany this past Saturday which I am only finally getting to write about now. I like making art, I like collecting art. However the kind of art I enjoy making most is not art which I am eager to sell.

Project Brainstorms

I have been inordinately busy, and also blogging has not necessarily been at the forefront of my "things to do". I did feel impelled to write down a few ideas for some projects which I am tossing around in my head and working on intermittently.

The Penance Cycle
This project hinges on my fixation with Arabic calligraphy and the script itself being very beautiful, as well as a moment in my paltry understanding of the Arabic Language, I fixated on a phrase which had a series of "ye"s in consecutive order. Irhabiyeen is a gross transliteration of it. It means "terrorism", conjugated from the root word Irhabi or terrorist. One of the translators clarified the statement on the psychological operations poster hanging in the company area as a sample of a larger billboard which had gone up ion Baghdad asking the populous to not support terrorism. The message is now gone from my memory, but that word stuck. I'm a fan of language and how language works, I thought about my lessons in my 90 hour Arabic immersion course prior to my deployment and all the "I am, he is, she is, we are" exercises, and I thought "Ena Irhabi" or I'm a Terrorist. The phrase itself is very transgressive and confrontational, even if only written out. But to have "I'm a Terrorist" or "Ena Irhabi" written out in Arabic, with its beautiful undulating script becomes something else all together in a post-9/11 United States. I'm still playing with the idea, and what ways I can create images which are both inviting and also engaging for non-arabic speakers/readers.

Idol Worship/Idle Worship
Teaching High School, one of the teenage behaviors which has caught my attention is the fixation on certain celebrities. Students will tape photos onto lockers, or inside binders, and make up impossible fantasies of running away with said celebrity. This is largely a distinctly feminine phenomenon. The male students usually have a particular female celebrity which they objectify, and use as a base for their physical standards which is problematic in its own way. However students of both genders generally have someone which they fixate on. This is where I get my next idea for a possible series. While I do not devote nearly the amount of time or energy to celebrities, I do have a few individuals who I do fixate on either in the arts, performance or music. I was thinking of drawing parallels between the way people worship in various religions substituting celebrity icons for the religious iconography. In a sense this could be an excuse of drawing and painting images of celebrities I admire, but that might be too idiosyncratic.

Pictures with Veterans
I have met with and taken photos with several military veterans; one whose story I credit with giving me the cognitive push to endure my deployment with far more courage, grit, and preparation to accept any outcome regardless what would happen. I have met many more admirable veterans since separating from the Army, and have taken photos with most of them. I painted one photograph already, and have started a second one in the past 3 months. The work on these is sporadic, but I am pleased with the results. I do think if I keep going with this it can become a coherent series rather than a disjointed jump-start-stall of a body of work I normally do which has little coherence or reason.

One of the reason I articulate these ideas is basic ownership and a rudimentary effort to hold myself to some manner of accountability. Amongst the other things I am trying to nurture and grow, I figure something will come of this.

Shocking War Videos and the Forgotten Context of War

Recently there was a video of four United States Marine Fighters urinating on the corpses of alleged Taliban fighters. Rick Perry drew some criticism for comparing the video to the Daniel Pearl video as noted on the Daily Beast. Asra Nomani wrote a very compelling response to the concept which Perry brought up. Reflecting on my own experiences with the criticism of war videos and the criticism they will draw, I am compelled to reflect and respond to this. There have been numerous videos which have emerged from both sides of the ideological “War on Terrorism”. The “War on Terror” itself is problematic, and I am certain historians are busy writing their dissertations on the matter. Something that people forget, and Perry touches on this, as well as Nomani: War is one of the most destructive, devastating and catastrophic forces in the world. Part of the outrage which stems from the Marine video urinating on the corpses, as unfortunate as those actions are, is that in this ideological war, we idealize and elevate our fighting forces to a status comparable to paragons of virtue, defenders of all that is right and just in the world. They are representatives of American virtues and values. They represent everything that is purportedly good and wholesome about America. In the paradigm set forth by the ideological narrative of the “War on Terrorism” our enemies are subhuman. They represent everything that is wrong with that “other” culture, with their antiquated belief system (which ironically brought Europe out of the Dark Ages). They are barbaric murderous savages who embody all the vices which American Values abhor. The worst of the inhumanity is represented in the video where they butcher Daniel Pearl, and subsequently Nicholas Berg, and numerous other innocent casualties of war. This is an enemy who by the existence of these videos does not value human life, and is so ravenous and violent American forces are paragons of virtue fighting the forces of evil. Killing someone in such a manner and disseminating a video of the butchering can be nothing less than an inhuman act of people. We forget these people are in fact human. Nomani states that one of the men who killed Daniel Pearl retched and had to step out of the room when Pearl was being dismembered. However, both the Taliban forces just like the US Armed forces are at the end of the day human. I am not absolving the actions of either group. I am merely seeking to point out an important omnipresent fact: we forget the humanity of those we send to fight in war. Our society is probably all very jaded and so protected and removed from the realities of war that when a video such as the one the Marines have is shocking and appalling. The narrative and the reality of war is so far removed that it is a cold hard slap to the face when it is dropped on our news narrative again. The idealization and simplification of something as complex, brutal, and transformative as war seems only natural. War is so volatile that even the most virtuous people shed a bit of their humanity, and civilians do not and arguably cannot understand this. I deployed to Baghdad Iraq in 2005 through 2006 and I maintained a blog as a means of communication with some friends since I did not have all their e-mail addresses, and I could jot down my thoughts on a word document and paste it later. One of the discussion that emerged on a blog post not of my own involved a video which was at best a display of military power, at its most base and banal Neanthderthal-like, it is testosterone driven chest-thumping military cum shot. The person who posted this video was decrying how horrible it is and all the atrocities that military forces were raining down on Iraq & Afghanistan; a narrative of someone who clearly was unfamiliar with war, or deployment. In my deployment, I was a paper pusher. I worked logistics, so most of my time was either driving all over the Baghdad military bases or command complexes picking up and dropping off materials. I would hardly consider my deployment going to war, so videos such as the one this individual posted were common circulation as a means of passing the time, and entertaining ourselves because the time between missions, and a form of stress relief (albeit sophomoric, and juvenile, but stress relief nonetheless). I defended this video as such, and for daring to speak my opinion and the most memorable and insightful reply I received was “You are worse than Satan.” Now as the New Yorker Magazine cartoon once brilliantly stated “On the Internet, no one knows you are a dog.”, so to this armchair activist, it did not matter that I was a deployed troop/college student who had some insight into the thought processes behind why these videos are made. To them, I was probably some gun-toting hick from middle of nowhere southern United States who voted republican always and unapologetically. I too drew conclusions about this blogger and his comments. When I read Nomani’s editorial piece, I reflected on this. Maybe our culture has experienced War fatigue. Afghanistan is no longer a feature in the headlines because of the issues with the economy. Stories about troops coming home and going on post traumatic stress injury fueled fits of violence are seen as uncommon, or exceptions to the rule (which in some cases they are) I read this and I think…. A lot of people truly do not understand war. I include myself in that demographic. I think I have meandered beyond the main idea of what I wanted to get to. I do not think we should be all that surprised that for every terrorist posting a video of the butchering of a human being from the “other side”, we should not be surprised when our own fighting forces do something like piss on the corpses of their enemies. I say this without condoning or absolving the actions of either group, but with the intent of getting the few people who read this to think before they so quickly cast judgment.

Feelings of loserdom, and grappling with the reality of now

I have been away from this blog for a while, and I had a musing which simply begged it's way to my fingertips onto this computer screen. One of my students made a comment to the effect that he believed I was secretly very successful and doing a spectacular job at hiding that fact. There was some stuff that I read into that statement which basically entered the realm of being a teacher was the "Clark Kent" to my secret identity as an art world "Superman". I recognize that as an egocentric grandiose delusion. I'm a part time teacher working two teaching jobs, digging my way out of crippling student debt, living with my parents. I have had the very recent and inordinately fortuitous luck of exhibiting a substantial artwork in a National Museum. That is such a mind blowing occurrence to me as such a drifter in life with such a late start into anything which could be considered a career. And to one of my students I am "successful".
I understand perspective is very much at play here, and this student only sees one sliver of my reality. What he says and believes is a compliment, and I should take it as that, say "Thank you" and move on. But in my warped sense of what a successful thirty something should look like, the idea that I am successful is such a cognitive dissonance in what I understand to be successful.
Now this alone was just some existentialist ennui until I heard a very thought provoking episode of Citizen Radio where a 26 year old listener refers to himself as a live-with-parents-loser. He goes further to articulate how he is trying to make things better for himself. He was both very candid, and really funny in how he wrote about his situation. His plight prompted many people too empathize and reflect on their own very similar situation. This too, resonated with me, and hearing this caused my student's statement to echo. Unfortunately, in reflecting on my own situation and the age disparity, I felt a little bit worse in the apparent solidarity of college graduates in similar situations. I have friends who are married, have a place of their own, have a well established career with some job security and an overall sense of stability. Contrasting that my own life seems frenetic, and stress has a distinct rhythm which is concurrent with the stability of my income. The past four months have been more stable than the past three years.
Given the fact that I am among the generation of college graduates who had the misfortune of graduating into one of the worst economic times in the history of the United States, I can justify my current state. However, my mind has been warped by the narrative which has been pushed in the media, and socially for the past twenty years or so. In spite of my acknowledging the reality of my situation, cognitively, I have a dissonance which upon self-reflection, nags on me, and provokes the self-identification as a loser.

Making Things

Some weeks ago, one of the artists I am showing with at the National Veteran Art Museum told me I looked like someone who needed to drop all my responsibilities and make something. While I have issues letting go of commitments, I have started making things again. Taking a page from the methods of a friend, I started doing silhouette collages with duct tape sheets, and decorative papers. It is a start in terms of making things. As far as the methods go... well.... Imitation IS the sincerest form of flattery.

National Veteran Art Museum: Radical Vulnerability Installation and Interview

I knew this was coming because I was present when it happened. I felt very "Art:21" ish when I was working and answering the questions. But actually seeing the video and listening to myself....

Well... Look here