I am just now feeling like I’m ‘back’ from fest. This is a thing that happens every time I go. Re-entry is a bear. Some of it is about unpacking, laundry, etc., but most of it is the deeply felt difference between being in fest space and being in the ‘real world’. It takes time to make the transition. Lots of naps. Self-care. We fest goers call it ‘fest head’ or the ‘post fest crash’. I call it a pain in the ass. It didn’t help that this particular fest was full of lessons – about being an adult child of an alcoholic, and how that set me up to be long-suffering when I shouldn’t be, about my feelings about my father’s death, about how much I love my community, about what I would kill or die for. But discomfort of the kind I experienced last weekend is the good kind. It’s the grow me the fuck up kind. It’s worth experiencing, so I’ll take it.
This week has been a bear. I’m not going to lie.
White supremacy is being uncovered and challenged in all of my spaces. It’s very uncomfortable. I witness people i respect (ed) behave in ways that I find deplorable, and i feel convicted to act upon that data. Disconnect. Remove my support. My discomfort, however, is nothing compared to what women of colour experience every damned day. It’s just a little uncomfortable. My life is not in danger. I can choose, because I have privilege, to unplug, to focus on other things. And in the name of self-care, I do. I dance in. I dance back. The colour of my skin makes that possible and I *did not earn that one little bit*.
I try to remember that every day.
I have a lot of work to do around racism, because I’m white, and I was raised in this. It’s up to me to dismantle my own racism, to uncover and deconstruct the role I play in the oppression of women of colour, to disavow the trickle down effect of patriarchy, to ensure that my feminism is intersectional.
It’s up to me to shut up and listen. It’s up to me to go white on white when I see someone in my circle doing harm. I’m afraid of doing it wrong, but if I’ve learned anything over the last week it’s that doing nothing is far worse than doing it wrong. At least if I do it wrong, I have an opportunity to learn how to do it right. If I put myself out there, I am in a position to be called out or called in.
And I want that. If I fuck up, I want you to call me out, and if you call me out and I don’t fix it, I want you to burn my shit down. If you see me putting what’s right for business before *what’s right*, I want you to point your finger at me, and say “Uh, no, Effy. Wrong way. Missing the mark. Course correct.” I want you to hold me to it.
I’m lucky to have amazing women of colour in my life & social media feed. They are brilliant teachers, and they take on enormous amounts of emotional labor every damned day. Alexis. Leesa. Staci. Layla. Schooling me. Every day. Full of grace AND righteous anger. Clear voices in the unveiling of what’s been true for time eternal. My teachers. I’m listening. I want to be a part of the solution. I’m willing to fuck up royally. I’m willing to stand in the fire so I can have my own blindness illuminated.
But the week wasn’t all hard or uncomfortable. Here are some highlights.
Wednesday, I went to see Bladerunner 2049 with my bestie. It was EPIC. I hadn’t seen him since the Wednesday before since he took off to New York on Thursday, and didn’t return till Tuesday. We went for our usual drive. I got to turn some of what happened over the weekend inside out with him as my faithful, gentle witness. We did pre-movie dinner. Held hands some. Drove home in awestruck silence.
Thursday, I had pints with girlfriends. Soul nourishing. I wasn’t *quite* ready for that much social, but I managed a few hours of ‘pants on, inside voice off’ before Stacey dropped me home so I could cocoon a bit more.
Friday, I *finally* got everything that needed doing done AND I cooked a gorgeous feast of coconut chicken curry. Watched four episodes of Star Trek: Discovery with my bestie. We’re in love with it, and can’t wait for more.
Yesterday was all work, all day, filming for a lesson that’s due out on Monday.
This is definitely worthy of Sunday Swoon. I painted that! Me! It’s a scarlet ibis, and it is *identifiably a scarlet ibis*! *Swoon!* It was my response to drawing The Star card in the tarot. The draw led me down a rabbit hole of symbols, and this is where I landed. Among the stars.
And that’s me for now.
Quiet inside. Coming back to earth. Listening. Deeply. Loving what I love.