I tried to stay low radar in this issue. Because I am always afraid that I don’t know the whole picture. It isn’t easy to advocate, when you don’t know the complete history of what you are advocating for. When I met with Jane, my adviser, she thanked me for being willing to take her on. I told her I didn’t agree with everything she said, but I was going to learn craft from a woman who still had craft lessons to give.
We talked about the requirements first and then, there was no more avoiding the issue. We talked. I told her I would be cursing in my manuscript, that I would use powerful language, that it was in my nature, and that she should not work with me if it would offend her. She told me I wouldn’t offend her.
I saw in Jane an urgency that reminded me of my own grandmothers. She asked me what I thought her message was about and I said, “self-censorship.” She was flabbergasted, she never considered that would be the take-away. I likened her speech to The Minister’s Black Veil. She had a message that was misunderstood and instead of clarifying, she was standing by her speech. She was still wearing the veil hoping people would understand the message- but all they could see was the guess as to why she was wearing the veil. (Sorry if I got literary-metaphor here but I figured you could all handle it) Specifically, she was giving a speech that’s message was lost. She was giving a speech with intertextually different meanings to the audience than the speaker.
We talked about the requirements first and then, there was no more avoiding the issue. We talked. I told her I would be cursing in my manuscript, that I would use powerful language, that it was in my nature, and that she should not work with me if it would offend her. She told me I wouldn’t offend her.
I saw in Jane an urgency that reminded me of my own grandmothers. She asked me what I thought her message was about and I said, “self-censorship.” She was flabbergasted, she never considered that would be the take-away. I likened her speech to The Minister’s Black Veil. She had a message that was misunderstood and instead of clarifying, she was standing by her speech. She was still wearing the veil hoping people would understand the message- but all they could see was the guess as to why she was wearing the veil. (Sorry if I got literary-metaphor here but I figured you could all handle it) Specifically, she was giving a speech that’s message was lost. She was giving a speech with intertextually different meanings to the audience than the speaker.
I never considered “being kind,” was asking someone to shut up. Each of us has experiences, some shared, some private that speak to our own intertext. For example, one of my wounds is a particular flower, a flower that grew in the backyard of the man who raped me. If I see that flower, it will trigger in me a PTSD reaction, yet the people who own that flower just think it is a lovely fluted purple flower. When they see it they don’t see it as a rapey-flower. As a mother of children who were adopted, I know that within the adoption community there are people who are very offended when asked if their children are “real brothers and sisters.” For me, I have tried to take this as a time to look at the intent of the person. I usually educate then answer. “I’m not offended by your question, but within the adoption community people prefer the term ‘biological,’ my children are not biological siblings.”
Intent, to me makes me decide how to handle the transgressor when they are hurting me. However, make no mistake, I in no way think I have the right to tell another how to feel, when to be hurt, when to speak out. For me, intent makes me chose my battle weapon, be it a smile, or full on Philly-Jersey tough girl.
Intent, to me makes me decide how to handle the transgressor when they are hurting me. However, make no mistake, I in no way think I have the right to tell another how to feel, when to be hurt, when to speak out. For me, intent makes me chose my battle weapon, be it a smile, or full on Philly-Jersey tough girl.
Jane hurt people, or reminded them of past hurt. I understand that. After I spoke with Jane, I too felt isolated. I felt burdened with knowledge others didn’t have. I felt a deep sadness, the next day I sobbed, sobbed in a way I had only sobbed handing back my children after pre-adoption visits. I sobbed for feeling isolated. I sobbed for feeling like no one knew the truth. I sobbed for all the hurt, and I sobbed for the burden of it all. I felt like a great disservice had been done to all of us, Jane included. Misunderstanding, we are literary people but the connection from message to receipt seemed so desperately lost.
Race, sexuality, politics, religion, these are all minefields, I try to avoid. When I consider my life I have advocated more than I have backed down. But there are times, I just don’t. I try to, I think I should, and sometimes I just don’t. Sometimes, I am so shocked; I lose my words, lose my power and I make the world think their hate is OK.
I have to say, I don’t think Jane is a racist, sexist, homophobe, whatever… I think she is a woman who grew so much in her life and advocated so much, that her advocating muscles have grown a little resistance. And honestly, she has advocated more than most of us, in a time when there was more at stake. Now, while I may disagree with her method, I have to respect the courage it took to voice this speech. And maybe it wasn’t on craft or politically correct, but as a writer, I expect to have someone tell me to “be nice,” and I have the uncensored right to reply, “If you want nice go to the Hallmark store, we don’t sell that shit here!”