I am at Netroots Nation in New Orleans, in spite of a myriad of obstacles, including spending twice as much as I anticipated (read: my income is fixed, my travel companion couldn't come and I am gonna hurt next month and have to shave a few plans in my cash and carry, homeless life. On the other hand, had I not come, I would've lost the stinky United Airlines we-won't-even-credit-the-outlay-for-another-flight basic economy fare[Southwest you're a feature in my travel future!], and possibly a chunk of sanity in the rise of the Putin supported, white supremacist, authoritarian, kleptocratic rise in my country).
I am, as of October of last year, a grandmother as well as a mother. I am responsible for other lives on the planet; a responsibility I do not take lightly. That they are here at this historical juncture pains me in ways I am unable to articulate. I find it difficult to believe that their lives will have challenges I couldn't have imagined. Being now seasoned with age, I know we often need time to see bigger pictures with anything approaching genuine comprehension. I am positive, therefore, that what goes on is perilous in a way that it has never been in my lifetime. One place in which grave political realities are not shied away from is Netroots. My own grandmother taught me that they must be faced — I walked the barrio with her as a first grader to register voters and hand out glossy folded flyers for JFK; she knew lessons needed to start early.
The Pub Quiz is as lighthearted as any collective gets here. It was a favorite event for our heartbreakingly absent community member, Bruinkid, Sean Wang. He would be remembered at this years quiz so I was going to be there. I am not an avid participant, let alone member of a longstanding fiercely competitive team. In my attempt to slap together a team, I (after seeking those engaged in respiration, at least) approach others, mostly strangers, who shore up my own weaknesses — in Detroit & Atlanta I was devoid of hip-hop & wrap knowledge, local political history, and ‘trending' stuff in the realm of the young. I disclose my shortcomings as I try to collect the required number of participants of 8.
Stunningly, a team was managed and the game was afoot. And then,…
One of the young women I'd approached (her group joined a young cadre instead) came to speak to me before things got under way. She was a young woman of color. She said she had to ask me to consider how I had disrespected her and her cohorts by mentioning the hip-hop; they had all heard one note from me, it was disrepectful and minimizing. She said she was trying to be respectful toward me and I have to agree she was. She mentioned being at Netroots meant we believed we had to go to uncomfortable places for honesty; yes, I agree. I told her I could understand that that was what she felt (she didn't hear me try to recruit anybody else, the majority of those strangers being white because that's the pool). She didn't know I said the same thing to anybody who considered signing up.
I was proud of her for confronting me with her understanding of what had occurred. In this event, what had occurred was a genuine misunderstanding I believe. I don't know what she took away from the encounter. I offered to return to her table and acknowledge to them why I may have seemed dismissive, along with an apology. She asked that I not because her friends had asked her not to confront me.
Dear young woman, I am positive that situations like this are often NOT misunderstandings. Stereotypes are not beneficial. Myths must be challenged. Agitation is nearly always a critical ingredient needed in the mix for change. Do not be afraid to confront them all. I salute you for it. These are necessary conversations; life is better for them.
And there was not one hip-hop or wrap question in the quiz in the end. Even so, I'm glad I brought it up.
And, Sean, if you were here, I think you'd join me in that h/t to a self-posessed young woman. So, here's to you, kiddo!