Category: Uncategorized

  • The Idea of the Alpha Male Idol is No More*

    The Idea of the Alpha Male Idol is No More*

    At least for me. Like my childhood belief in Santa Claus, the man and the myth are truly, merely, a legend. For all I know there may be real-world examples that fit the bill. But the hope of finding his example among public figures is no longer realistic.

    But has it ever been? I tend to frown on the idea of worshipping humans. But recent events have made me realize that depending on how certain people show up in the world, I have held onto certain expectations.

    And I know that depending on who you consult, the term “alpha male” can have a negative meaning. For instance, one definition I discovered mentioned words like “domineering”, which led to a definition of that term, involving the word “arrogant”.

    But let’s connect for a moment to its positive connotations: There is the notion of the “alpha male” as a larger-than-life man who people look to in order to fulfill a leadership role within society. Some might consider him a hero-like figure who cares about humanity. Who has backbone enough to stand by his convictions. Who believes in defending and protecting the vulnerable.

    He also knows certain truths. Like the fact that POC and others deciding not to be friends with bigots is a matter of personal dignity, and not us trying to be “divisive”.

    Now, in response to what I’ve suggested, some may try to argue that I’m selfish, and only value these sorts of men for what they can do. “You only want something…”

    Well, excuse me. First of all, that’s not true. Secondly, don’t these men want something, too? I thought one of their objectives was to be respected and admired. (I had the impression that some of their favourite media figures claim that these qualities were lacking in their relationships.)

    But what else could they possibly desire?

    What about the idea of good people feeling at ease around them?  (Never mind those who are evil, or unkind! They can cower, if they choose.) Additionally, of course, there’s the idea of people believing in alphas and thinking of them as—as mentioned before—triumphant leaders in our culture.

    Here I must pause and note that there are those who will disagree with me. They may see the danger in making assumptions about people based on their gender and want to argue that the road to respect and admiration is a two-way street. And I couldn’t agree more!

    If so, then surely, they understand that for most people, respect and admiration are built on a foundation of trust.

    Unfortunately, I feel like that is a concept that certain folks have forgotten over the years. Trust is something that is normally earned. It shouldn’t be assumed, nor is it something that one is entitled to simply because they are born in a particular package. Yet that seems to be what certain folks have been taught and have come to take for granted.

    Meanwhile, it is hard to trust someone who is invested in ridiculing people for things like simply being honest about the harm done by prejudice and injustice.

    Returning to the idea of alpha males being the stuff of legends, in a certain sense, I hope that somewhere on Mount Olympus, the Great Heroes are seeing how their progeny have come to think of others, and are reviewing their Code of Conduct.


    *This article contains hyperbole. There are definitely “great” great men out there. But there are negative examples as well. And lately, the words of one in particular have left me disappointed.


    The picture in this post is an edited version of a photo by Marcin Lukasik.

  • Poetry in Progress: Where to share?

    So I’ve taken to writing poetry. Or, rather, my spirit has taken to sharing pieces that I’ve randomly written over the years.

    I’ve only just begun to bring my private work to the public. And I’d love to do it more often.

    That’s why, for various reasons, I’ve been looking at what it takes for my work to be featured in a literary journal.

    Most of the reputable ones that I’ve reviewed want you to submit work that hasn’t been previously published. Meaning, your poetry cannot have appeared in another literary journal. But I’ve also noticed journals going on to explain that your work cannot have appeared online in places such as your personal website, or social media. 

    In this era of Instapoetry, that’s bound to cramp someone’s style. 

    And for a little while, I’ve felt conflicted. I know what the establishment’s rules are. But deep down, I don’t want to be punished if one day I decide to spontaneously share my material.   

    Finding poetic freedom

    Last week I was relieved to find Button Poetry. They seem to be a legitimate organization. They also seem to understand that art can’t always be contained in an overly-formal box. For example, if you share your work online, that won’t lead them to dismiss your work.

    Meanwhile, much of my poetry is still under development. I’m dusting off old pieces and surprising myself with new ones. I don’t yet know what will become of this new era of my writing, but whether I share it on a stage, or an online page, I know one thing for sure: My artistic freedom must supersede everything.


    Photo by Ksenia Makaganova, featuring a quote by Mary Oliver.

  • Lose Your Likes

    Lose Your Likes

    After taking a huge social media break earlier this year, I thought I was making progress. I’d been a good girl. I had deleted the appropriate apps from my phone. If I absolutely had something to share, I’d found ways of posting that didn’t involve using my phone or spending time scrolling.

    And then, earlier this week I caught myself.

    I let myself loose on Twitter. Current events had set me off. I enjoyed myself, even if just a little.

    And yet…

    While scores of folks post fun, informative content, in the end I couldn’t help but see its negative side. That site can feel like an outrage factory. Not that there isn’t enough to be mad at these days—world wars, racism, Lisa LaFlamme getting fired for no reason

    In the end, it can feel a lot like information overload.

    And then sometimes I’d tweet, and start thinking about reactions, or a lack thereof. “Likes” mean that you’ve been heard, and what you’ve said resonates with others. A lack of them can feel lonely.

    This week, I had to ask myself exactly why that was.

    And this is what I heard back. “Lose your likes…”

    Or at least, your taste for them. I’d felt this before, but never so strongly. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thankful for recognition. Above all else, though, when you’re online, you need to remember that you are living in light of your purpose. And your drive to pursue your purpose needs to exist, whether you’re “seen” or not.

    I wasn’t the first one to say the following. But if likes make you, then they can truly break you. And the reason you were created is far stronger than that.

    As a writer, the world’s news and ideas can be inspiring. I can’t say I’ll stop using social media altogether. But I’m definitely reinvested in adopting a utilitarian approach to it. My mental health depends on it.


    Photo by Aman Pal on Unsplash

  • Mind Your Media: The Diversity Double Standard

    Continuing my discussion of how racism is reflected within our media, let me give you a concrete example. There’s a media host whom I’ll call Craig. in the past I’ve seen Craig use his platform to promote someone who can’t grasp the idea of why fetishizing people from within a particular non-white community might be a bad idea. Yet via another outlet, he had absolutely no trouble discussing why women as a whole need to be careful when dealing with men who are strangers to them.

    Similarly, I’ve seen moments on social media where men will defend the hell out of women. Yet concerning race-related issues, either they say nothing, or they easily back down from any defense they may have started to make.

    The incidents that I’m referring to reflect a particular type of hypocrisy that needs to be called out:

    Certain people support justice, regardless of who seeks it. In theory, a lot of people love the idea of being noble and standing up for what’s right. (Who doesn’t love The Hero?)

    Yet I’ve paid attention to what some folks do in practice: They have no trouble with the idea of defending a woman’s honour. (Here, one might ask: Who do they think of as women, or specifically, women that deserve to be held in high regard?) 

    In contrast, when the time comes to stand up for people of colour, the hand wringing begins. In spite of some folks’ claims, there are limits to their unconditional kindness. It’s quite interesting to note: Their chivalrous energy evaporates when the people who need defending are from a group that they might not want to be intimate with.


    Photo by José Léon via Unsplash

  • On expressions of grief in the Age of Social Media

    This post was originally shared January 28th on Medium.

    Photo – Mike Labrum on Unsplash

    This past Sunday in the wake of the news about Kobe Bryant, I had a lot of thoughts. Among them, I was wondering whether or not I should post something on Instagram, and if I did, what would I say?

    In the midst of my questions, there flickered an idea. It was one that I’d had before: “If you don’t post, people might not think that you care…” Deep down, I know that this isn’t true. And in the past, I’ve been silent regarding certain events.

    But honestly. Those words capture the kind of world we live in. For some reason, a small part of me didn’t want to seem like I was some sort of unfeeling soul.

    For a moment, I mulled over the idea that perhaps this presumed need for statements from people — including regular folks like me — is a reality I need to accept. I shared two posts about what happened on Sunday. And although I certainly don’t feel like I was forced, I know that nothing I say will ever be enough.

    But earlier today, I opened my Instagram feed, and saw this:

    In an instant, I was captivated and comforted by Demetria’s honesty. I agreed with her fully and completely. I began to stop feeling bad about not knowing what to say about Kobe.

    A moment later, I learned that people have been upset with another celebrity for not commenting on the tragedy via social media. My curiosity was piqued, so I ventured over to said famous person’s account. (For now, I’ll call the person I’m referring to “J”. Although I didn’t know it until today, J is a friend of the Bryants. )

    In the comments section under their latest post, J made their perspective clear. [I’m purposely not going to quote this person. I feel gossipy enough as it is, writing about this incident.] To J, social media is a business tool. Hence, they’ll post about their particular branch of the entertainment industry, and their work in it. But they believe that none of their personal life — including their response to the loss of people who meant a lot to them — is ANY of the public’s business.

    The more I saw J graciously dealing with trolls, the more a wave of relief seeped through my soul.

    Since late last year, I’ve been reevaluating my relationship with social media. An obvious part of that equation is my “WHY?”. Literally.

    Why am I posting something? Is it out of a genuine desire to share, or am I being performative? Or, as some might feel in the shadow of a tragedy, is a post being composed out of a sense of obligation?

    Here, I’ll offer a caveat. If you feel the need to memorialize someone, I don’t mind. I think a well-worded tribute can be beautiful. But if you don’t want to share your thoughts on a loved one who has passed away, please know that that’s absolutely, perfectly ok.

    As I think of a years-old personal loss that I still haven’t publicly discussed in detail, something about J’s comments set me free, and I hope they do the same for you.

    Firstly, I decided to release myself. It’s important to keep things in perspective. Going forward, if something terrible happens, and I don’t feel like commenting on it via social media, I won’t. (And I won’t feel guilty about it, either.) I don’t have to, and my not commenting does not mean that I don’t care.

    When words fail us, in this era of free communication, we deserve the freedom to say nothing at all.

    Secondly, it does’t matter to me how famous or non-famous you are. Our phones have us literally living in each other’s back pockets. And sometimes, that proximity is a bit too close. Please remember: whether you’re feeling overjoyed, or absolutely horrible — you do not automatically owe strangers pieces of your life. We are not entitled to your intimate details, whether whole, or in fragments.

    There was a bit of a presumptuous tone in some of the comments directed at J, and the audacity of them threw me off. If nothing else, I hope that certain people will evolve beyond using folks’ status as “public figures” as an excuse to invade their privacy. “Public figures” are still people, who, like the rest of us, bear the weight of their own humanity. And this burden can be especially overbearing when the unthinkable happens.

    In Jesus’ name, have some compassion.

  • Can we talk about racism in the church?

    How about now?

    In the wake of one of gospel’s greats finding the strength to share his story, I wonder how much longer it will be before he receives an appropriate response. I also wonder about the kind of opposition he might be facing. I keep imagining Christian celebrities and civilians muttering behind the scenes, warning Mr. Franklin not to rock the boat.

    Meanwhile, I would like to thank him for his bravery.

    The way that TBN (the Trinity Broadcasting Network), the Gospel Music Association, and the Dove Awards has behaved is proof that these institutions can be just as racist and cowardly as the rest of society. The pattern is typical: Enjoy Black people’s time and talents. Delight in our worth, on a superficial level. So long as we entertain you, all is well.

    Yet let us honestly discuss issues that cause us real trauma. Suddenly, we’re too much. Suddenly, we don’t deserve your support. The pain that we feel shouldn’t be expressed. Our realities deserve to be eliminated.  

    If you participate in this kind of erasure, perhaps you may not realize it. But when you tell Black people to keep quiet about what we’re going through or what we worry about, you tell the truth about just how much you really care about us. In spite of your statements about being one in Jesus’ name, the truth is evident. Your love is not sincere. Your concern is not genuine.

    I want to say more about racism in the Christian community. I’ve felt an urgency in our political climate, as people have begun to reveal their true colours.

    Back in the day, before putting pen to paper on this issue, I felt the way I usually do whenever I’m about to write something: There were moments where I caught myself wondering if I could find the words to express what I was thinking. However, now, I realize that what I really need is the nerve.

    Will Kirk Franklin’s honesty embolden me? I’m not sure. But if nothing else, I know this: The way that the predominantly white Christian church–and therefore, white Christians–in North America regard people of colour needs to change. People on the fringes of the faith have known this for years. The question is, now that racism in Christian contexts has been mentioned in the mainstream, what will happen next?

  • Who’s baking your kid’s biscuits?

    Somewhere in America, an elementary school teacher let a feminist bake her class some cookies.

    I’m a feminist. Hence, I can understand looking at that sentence and thinking, “So what?”

    Well…There’s more.

    This woman didn’t just bake any cookies. She made VAGINA cookies.

    From Reddit:

    …Friday rolls around and the kids are excited. Autumn Lily Speaker [pseudonym] comes into the classroom with a pan full of treats and brings them to me and says with a smile “I decided you can use these to teach the kids about the woman’s vagina today”. Baffled and completely caught off guard I slowly peel the aluminum foil off the pan to behold a plethora of sugar cookie and frosting vaginas. Not just any old vagina, but ALL KINDS OF VAGINAS…

    I wish I made that up, but, well…If you didn’t already, click the link above.

    Now, I didn’t post this to insult feminists. Like the redditor who posted it said

    Feminism is about gender equality and shouldn’t be grouped with off the wall people like this.

    All I can do is shake my head. I am seriously concerned for that woman’s children.

    HT: Kari, an online friend who linked to the story via MadameNoire.

  • “Looking back, looking back, looking back…”

    Over on Blogging While Brown I learned that Bee of 83 to Infinity was hosting a blog carnival devoted to posts that celebrated the year gone by and the year to come.

    Every day offers another chance to close the door on what you don’t want, and open another one. The media reminds us that the new year supposedly gives us the ultimate opportunity to start over. And quite honestly, I can’t deny it. Twenty-fourteen seems like the perfect time for me to keep giving my life a reboot. There’s a lot that I’d like to embrace…And leave behind.

    Twenty-thirteen has been good to me. I started to pursue my dreams in a city that I love. I’m making new friends and meeting new people. Basically, my life is taking a turn for the better, and I’m thankful.

    I also can’t help but be pensive. Over the past while I haven’t updated this blog. That’s partly because I haven’t had time. But I’ve also hesitated because I’ve been thinking about my content. Lately I’ve had questions about whether or not my site offers an accurate depiction of who I am or who I want to be. Last week I made a decision–to either scrap my blog and start over, or write a “that was then/this is now” post. This type of change is actually new territory for me, so I asked an unbiased source for feedback. She suggested that I could go either way. In the end, I decided on a bit of a compromise.

    Friday night I went through this site, removing and otherwise suspending a ton of old posts. If you’ve been here a while, you know that I’ve written quite a bit about religion. I’ve often railed against the establishment–I’m no right-winger. Yet lately I’ve been concerned about the meaning that religion of any kind has in contemporary society–even religion lite.

    Furthermore, currently, I’m on a bit of an alternative spiritual path. Some of my thoughts are bound to upset old friends and close family. I’m processing how I’d like to explain my evolution.

    Ultimately, as I look ahead to 2014, I’d like my blog to offer a more accurate representation of myself. In the future I may or may not be more transparent…We’ll see. The longer I live, the more I understand that I need to make self-care a priority. It turns out that all those clichés about what it takes to keep a human being in one piece aren’t pretentious BS. They’re actually true!

  • Thought of the day.

    Tree_Snapseed

    Human beings are teaching me more about God than religion ever has.

  • Get ready?

    I have one week before school starts. You’d think I’d be more prepared. 

    One final but vital detail needs to be sorted out. If you’re spiritual at all, pray or send out positive vibes.

    In spite of that concern, the other 99.9% of me is overcome with excitement.  I’m really looking forward to experiencing the city, especially its FREE offerings. (No matter how expensive Toronto is, you can always find something decent there–to see, to do, or to eat–that won’t cost you a penny.)

    In the months to come I look forward to featuring more local content.

    tea

    It’s weird. When I blog from where I am now, I’m preoccupied with my privacy. I haven’t publicized certain posts because I’ve worried about readers stalking me figuring out where I live. Yet once I’m in the city…I don’t know what it is. There’s more to do, and more to share. Something about that space really inspires me in spite of myself.

    As for this blog, a few nights ago I caught myself stalling. I know I’m supposed to be participating in 31WriteNow, but I was torn between two blog posts.  Although both were important to me, I couldn’t bring myself to post them. I kept wondering if I’d regret sharing my thoughts later on.

    Even as I type that, I hate realizing that my old friend fear is trying to maintain his hold on me. Deep down, I know I need to shed a lot of my old post ideas before I get to the good stuff. I feel like my writing has a deeper purpose, and I can’t wait to find out what it is!