Category Archives: politics

post regarding the death of osama bin laden

I write a lot about privilege. About how white guys get a whole lot of it, and guys in general, and white people in general. I also write about how, even though I am a female of color, I have been afforded a lot of white privilege. And I generally hope to encourage those with privilege to identify it and acknowledge it, because that’s the only thing that can lead to fewer disparities between genders and races. I don’t think I’ve ever said that acknowledging, or actively giving up, that privilege is easy. Or fun. Privilege is awesome. And there is a certain kind of privilege that I have, which I identified yesterday, that I have absolutely no interest or intention in giving up anytime soon.

It is this privilege that keeps me from rejoicing in Osama bin Laden’s death. I’m not sure if it’s that privilege that keeps me from having any feelings about his death whatsoever. That could just be my own way of processing, and my own way of remembering how completely baffled I was when I was 13 years old and it was September 11, 2001. That year was incredibly confusing, and I couldn’t figure out who had caused the attacks, since everyone kept talking about this bin Laden guy, but then we decided to take down this Hussein guy instead.

I have middle class American privilege, and it’s probably also the same privilege for much of the upper class and even the lower class, as long as it lives in America. There are three facets to that privilege: murder, military, and political awareness. That privilege means I grew up in a world where murder has never, ever been necessary. This is a truth on a personal, tangible level, because I did not grow up around violence, but also, in my eyes, political, because the United States is blessed with an imperfect but rather efficient justice system that may include but does not require the death penalty, and because the United States is blessed with having, until recently, been a first-world nation, so in my understanding, we should have quite a few strengths at our disposal, enabling us to reach conclusions, agreements, or justice in ways that don’t require the death of humans, whether civilian, political, or military. Speaking of that, my microcosm also, until very recently, did not include any members of the military, so I did not live in a world in which people had to (by making a choice to be in a career that required the to) kill other people, or put themselves in harm’s way, and I did not live in a world where I knew people who died in the line of action, or who had missing spouses, children, or parents because they were away doing stuff I still don’t pretend to understand. Finally, that privilege extended to my political awareness, because I did not grow up in a society that required me to know what was going on in any sort of life-or-death way. I did not grow up having to understand why it was that I had to avoid the landmines next to my home. I was not an American preteen living during one of the World Wars, being encouraged to buy war bonds or plant victory gardens, or being told that rations just did not allow for a real Halloween with real candy. I was never a Cuban teenager being required by Castro to be brainwashed and then charged with the task of brainwashing others. I am very lucky not to have to deal with excessive politics just to get my day done. My awareness of political figures when I was young went from the mayor straight to President Clinton, who was mostly just that guy who played the saxophone and then did something with some girl named Monica that made everyone mad at him. So the September 11th attacks came as a huge shock, but also kind of as a huge nothing, to me. And so, because of this great privilege I have (and it’s the murder-is-never-necessary part that I don’t want to give up; the other parts I already have, for the most part), that I do not feel it is appropriate to rejoice in the death of someone.

I can understand the feelings of relief some people might have, and I can see the political implications for Obama’s reelection, and I can’t say that I’m politically sad he’s gone, but frankly, I can’t say Osama bin Laden has been up to much except hiding for the past nine years (again, that could just be my privilege of ignorance talking), and regardless of the major tragedy he caused, in my worldview, killing him should not have been on the table.

And while I accept that there are limits to my compassion here, because of that privilege, and I am not unwilling to let others have their feelings about bin Laden, I am offended by the crass statements I have seen on Facebook for the past twelve hours or so. Some just seem silly, like “I will sleep easier tonight,” because, again, if you live in the United States, I sincerely doubt that you have spent every night in the last nine years with insomnia. Especially if you’ve grown up with any of the privileges I just outlined. Statuses like “ding dong, the dick is dead” just make people look like ignorant assholes. And that Obama meme that says, “Sorry it took so long for me to show you my long-form birth certificate–I was too busy killing Osama bin Laden” bothers me for so many reasons, like how I am a pacifist, and like how Obama himself did not kill bin Laden, and like how it presumes Obama’s political agenda when this is just another enemy he inherited, and like how it panders to those assholes who constantly try to discredit Obama, and for a million other reasons. I also hate seeing all those facebook statuses because I just don’t understand how that kind of mind works. Growing up Jewish, with social activist parents and grandparents, and growing up a Democrat, and growing up an intellectual, I am struck that people who respond to death in that way (again, this is colored by my privilege) are supremely ignorant and irrational. Nobody told me to be a pacifist when I was growing up, but the fact that I was raised to question and to research, the fact that I was required to perform volunteer work year round, and the fact that my parents talked to me about all manner of things and encouraged me to read about all manner of things, made me so. I’m not trying to de-legitimize the death of someone’s sibling who fought in Afghanistan, or anything like that, but to boil everything down to “It is because Osama bin Laden existed that my brother, Soldier X, is dead” shows, to me, an incredible lack of critical thinking and human compassion. Sure, that is exactly what it boils down to, but there’s a reason we don’t boil things down. If you boil your water for too long and it all boils off, your pasta burns and you’re left with nothing. If you boil events like this down to that level, you are missing an awful lot of complexities, responsibility on the part of many nations and groups, and cause and effect (i.e. how did bin Laden come to have the ideas he did? What is it about the culture and politics of the US that attract hate? What crimes have we ever committed in the name of religion? What are the social and cultural impetuses for hate crimes and terrorism?) I know I can’t see the whole picture, but I wish people would acknowledge that few of us can see the whole picture, rather than make broad generalizations and offensive statements because they don’t want to. Feel closure, sure. Be hopeful for peace ahead. But feel closure because of the possibility of less violence, not because a human is no longer living. We should never be happy that bad people are dead. We should be sorry for the circumstances that made them angry, violent people, and we should be sad about the damage they caused. But just as Obama reminded us that the best way to honor the memory of people like Christina Taylor Green is to try and make the world a better place, I don’t believe we should be happy that we’ve made a statement about killing people by killing someone else.

But I guess I’m just lucky to be able to say that.

Slightly edited in an attempt to be more clear.

home is where the hate is

In the last few years, it has become uncomfortable to be an Arizonan. In the last year, it has become embarrassing, because when I tell people where I’m from, the response is something along the lines of, “What’s up with that?” or “What the hell is wrong with you people out there?” And I don’t know how to answer. But lately I have had an increasing amount of anxiety, some of which I know is unfounded, especially when I am stopped at an intersection and see a car with violent, militant, pro-gun, and/or Tea Party bumper stickers on it. I am literally scared that they might hear me playing Juanes on my car stereo, or they will just see that I’m brown, and they’ll shoot me. I know that that’s a bit over the top, but it’s an anxiety that has developed out of living in a place where people literally think that certain groups of people don’t deserve respect or basic human rights.

Lack of gun control scares me. “Journalists” and “politicians” who recommend militant action and then pretend to be shocked when crazies go out and commit acts of violence terrify me. People who think that the right to bear arms somehow translates to the right to kill senselessly scare me. People who think that political change can be achieved through assassination are awful. People who think that political problems are the responsibility or fault of one single person are misinformed. People who want to harm other people who are trying to serve sadden me. And anyone who thinks violence solves problems is an inhumane person. I am so sad about what happened today, and I am so scared to live in a place where something like this can happen. I love Tucson, but I am scared that I can’t move away fast enough, and it saddens me to think that if the country doesn’t realize where it’s headed, home might be a place I never feel safe going back to once I move away.

thanks a fucking heap, america

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought young people are the future of this country, or something like that. I’m 22. I vote. I go to school. I have three part-time jobs. I volunteer. I have plans for my future. I’m graduating from college a semester early from a school that boasts that 50% of its students graduate in six years. I believe that makes me one of those young people who is being handed the country, so that in the next few years I can shape it and influence it. That means that right now, current political leaders are supposed to be opening doors for me, preparing the country for me by passing laws and policies to make it a better place. And then my generation will take over.

Well, thanks a fucking heap, America. A special thanks goes to my home state, Arizona, because I know how much its politicians hate me. I know it’s pretty unforgivable that I have brown skin, a Mexican last name, and the ability to speak Spanish more or less fluently. Thanks for passing laws that make it next to impossible for other brown-skinned students like me to succeed even if their finances or educational background doesn’t make it easy; that leave my parents and sister in danger of not having jobs anymore (or at least being required to teach a prescribed, edited curriculum with rewritten history); that ensure that we will have to start the civil rights movement over again if we want to get anywhere as a country; that bar the most progressive reform the country has had in years and once again makes it impossible for me to have affordable healthcare; that pretty much ensure that rational and reasonable protests, rallies, and lawsuits will happen to no avail because politicians don’t need to abide by human rights or the law anymore.

This is everyone’s fault, and what’s sad is, I don’t really believe in my generation’s ability or willingness to demand change. We’ve grown up with this attitude that we don’t have to work hard for things, and we definitely lack my parents’ generation’s knack for war protests and channeling Gandhi. Also, the recession’s forcing us back into our parents’ house, jobless and directionless while we change majors a million times has made us less apt to feel like this country is someday going to be ours. And it’s not going to be. Not when the new politicians are ensuring that the legal system keeps us from succeeding even when they’re all in nursing homes. These new laws, like SB1070 and whatever things Tom Horne, Jan Brewer, and John Huppenthal have up their sleeves, will be legally hard to change. And even when they’re arguable, they will be argued in courts judged by the same agenda’ed politicians. The entire system will be flawed for years to come. One thing I will say about these assholes is that they’re good at getting their way.

So where the fuck was my generation yesterday? Why did I see next to nobody wearing “I voted” stickers? Why were my friends asking me where the polls were, because they couldn’t even be bothered to go online or check their mail for their polling information? Why were people my age, who have been eligible to vote for the past five Novembers, voting for the first time yesterday? Why is everyone attending school out of state pretending that it’s in some way difficult to request an absentee ballot? Why did all of the Latino voters listen to that asinine ad saying that the only way to show the government how you feel is to abstain from voting?

I never had any interest in politics growing up, and then I realized that I couldn’t be a person who cared about social justice without caring about politics. I couldn’t be a functional member of my very politically-minded family without caring about politics. I couldn’t achieve my own personal goals without caring about the politics and social constructs that govern whether I can have access to the resources I need and want. It’s not like it’s particularly fun to care about politics. But we have to do it. It means having a little less fun and maybe spending a little less time worrying about our social lives and television shows, but isn’t it ultimately worth it? Apparently not.

I have very little faith in the United Sates’ ability to overcome this and be a place of functional heterogeneity in the future. I have very little faith in my generation’s willingness to give up our dreams and fight this. Hell, I don’t want to. I’m still young enough to be working on myself right now. I should be planning grad school, falling in love, and working with mentors, not protesting and rallying for basic rights I should already have. It’s mentorship time for my generation, not leadership time. Not failure time. But now we have a choice to make, and it’s to be selfish and let a lot of our peers fail and fall, or to maybe abandon some of our personal goals for collective ones. I’m not sure if any of us, even me, is prepared to make the right decision there.

Today is November 3, 2010. I am 22 years old and almost a college graduate. I am a world traveler who is always happy to come home again to a hometown that boasts cultural, socioeconomic, religious, ethnic, and racial diversity and a country with tons of interesting things to do and hope for and reach for. And today, I am completely ashamed to be a United States citizen.