In Secaucus we were talking about how kids get pushed into college right after highschool, how there's pressure to go to grad school right after college. How there's no time to rest, understand, process, decide...
We had to get on the train to Penn Station and then on a subway to 96th Street. As we were speeding along, as I was swaying with the car, and he was holding onto the strap - towering over me- he picked up the conversation.
"So you want to know what I did after I graduated highschool?" He didn't wait for me to ask. I only had time to raise my eyebrows.
"I joined the military."
"What, um, branch?" I ask. I almost said "department". Sometimes I don't know what to say when I feel people are on the verge of telling me something big.
"The Air Force. I served in the Gulf War. The first one, the one you don't hear about anymore, the one that was too short to be remembered."

I remember my highschool history teacher served in the army during the Gulf War and how there would be a bitterness in his voice when he spoke of it that I could not understand at 16... and definitely not even now, no matter how hard I might try.
People are coming into the car now and he and I are pushed closer together. I look at him closely and think back to when we were on the Main Bergen Co. Line just an hour ago. I think about how we were talking about how funny it is that there is such a strong sense of Regional Pride in New Jersey. We talked about films, media, the invisible boundaries between different cultures and how film is a medium that breaks those by boundaries by giving the interantional audience an idea of how Everyone Else "must be".
I think about how while we were on the train, he had this story inside of him. I don't know why I sometimes I have the idea that people who have been through remarkable experiences are Marked somehow. The fact that this is not true makes conversing such a pleasure and journey.
"I operated a plane that served as a gas station for other planes. We flew very high and when we looked down, what looked like fireflies, was actually people firing at us."

I look up at him, trying to surf the subway car as I was instructed to do, and listen - grateful to be hearing him because he didn't have to say any of this. He didn't have to start up this conversation again.

But it ended shortly after that. Subways are ideal for these types of exchanges. He said what he had to and I was there to listen until the next stop because then I became engrossed with making stories up for everyone on the subway and I think he was trying to read the newspaper of the woman sitting below him.

We didn't really talk at the party, but every now and then our eyes would meet and I'd raise up my glass of water and smile.
----

This whole interaction reminded me of a Moxy Fruvous song (folk group from Canada). It was written during the Gulf War, but is so relevant today, unfortunately.

Gulf War Song
We got a call to write a song about the war in the Gulf
But we shouldn't hurt anyone's feelings.
So we tried, and gave up, cuz there was no such song,
But the trying was very revealing:

What makes a person so poisonous righteous,
That they'd think less of anyone who just disagrees?
She's just a pacifist, he's just a patriot.
If I said you were crazy, would you have to fight me?

Fighters for liberty,
Fighters for power,
Fighters for longer turns in the shower.

Don't tell me I can't fight 'cause I'll punch out your lights
And history seems to agree
That I would fight you for me.

So we read, and we watched
All the 'specially selected news,
And we learned so much more about the good guys.

"Won't you stand by the flag?"
Was the question unasked.
"Won't you join in and fight with the allies?"

What could we say? We're only 25 years old,
With 25 sweet summers, and hot fires in the cold.
This kind of life makes that violence unthinkable.
We'd like to play hockey, have kids, and grow old.

Fighters for Texaco,
Fighters for power,
Fighters for longer turns in the shower.

Don't tell me I can't fight 'cause I'll punch out your lights,
And history seems to agree
That I would fight you for me,.
That Us would fight Them for We.

He's just a peace-nik,
And she's just a war-hawk.
That's where the beach was,
That's where the sea.

What could we say? We're only 25 years old,
And history seems to agree that I would fight You for Me,
That Us would fight Them for We.
Is that how it always will be?



---

Am I a feminist participating in my own oppression? I silence myself. I discount my feelings. I make excuses for others, but demand More from myself.

It is during these times that I am a hypocrite. That I feel like an imposter.

What place do I have among my books, role models, mentors, and theories/practices that I take in --- but maybe don't absorb?

Why is it so hard to practice what I preach, to get out the words that are in my head?
It's too hard for me to be angry so I always give up. Say, "Oh, it's okay" "Yea, of course I understand" Placating, never demonstrating.

I am so restless.

Vince said to me today, "I notice when I ask you about school you never seem excited, like it's an obstacle."

"It is. I don't want to be here."

I pick up packets on volunteering/interning abroad constantly - Knowing that when I look up the cost and think about my savings/the time involved ... that I can't do it. I know I'll have a lot of time after I graduate, but I mean NOW. I want to go somewhere now.

Alternative Spring Break cannot come fast enough.
A year from now can't come fast enough.

I am constantly looking up air fare to India. Comparing prices.
I can't lie, it's not so much the scenery, but the people. Oamjie. Like a hole in my chest, Oamjie. And Lakamma, who would grab my forearm and talk to me in a language we both knew I didn't understand. Manjula, Aravind, Pinkie...

If I had enough to go after I graduate, I keep thinking. But I don't see how I can.

--

This alone occupies my thoughts. I do not want to be involved with anyone because the desire to leave is much stronger. And I guess the Fear that it could happen is just as strong. I don't care if I stay in the country, I just need to go.

The "why" of that will be analyzed later, I'm sure. Why am I not satisfied here? There is nothing to hold me here, maybe that is why. Everything is so temporary. There isn't much built on a solid foundation. Where I live, temporary. My friendships, Time will only tell. The activism that I'm doing is very isolated to this campus. My jobs, all have concrete end dates.
I have my mother.
I have one of my Sisters.
I have another Sister coming back soon.
--

Tonight was Take Back The Night. I spoke. A lot of people spoke. Some men spoke. I was glad of that. I talked about how women who have bad male role models in their family have a better chance of being scared all of their lives.. scared that the man they are dating will be like their Father. They will probably, at some point or another, date someone who is just like their father. Maybe they will date someone like this more than once.. angry at themselves for never learing the lesson. They are more likely to go without food, or stuff their faces full.. trying to fill some void.
"they".. Me.

Then I went to a meeting and some guy said "You should really take Professor ___ if you haven't already. She's amazing. And a plus for the guys, she's really hot"
Fuck you, __! I felt like saying. Fuck you for objectifying someone, for only noticing women's appearances. And the same goes to the guys who feel like harping on other women's appearances in front of other women.
I am really tired of "pro-feminist" men who believe just because they give themselves that title, it gives them a carte blanche to say whatever they want because "You know I'm joking, I'm a feminist!" I feel as if those are the worst because they are not only lying to others, but themselves.

Do you see how much distrust I have?
And the anger... I wanted to ask all the men in the audience tonight "Do you get it? Women have come up here and shared stories of being urinated on, raped, verbally abused, ignored, silenced, hair pulling, yells of "you're my property".. do you get it?
And if I said it .. it wouldn't be because I wanted to make them feel guilty about being men, but able. Able to do something. To talk to their peers. I wanted to ask them, All those jokes I've heard about bitchy feminists, loud women who won't be quiet... Do you envision These Women when you tell those jokes? Because that's who you're hurting. This is the movement you're trivializing when you call a woman a cunt in a derrogatory way, when you think a woman is a bitch because she's sticking up for herself, A prude for saying No.

I'm quitting. Never should I work in a place where I eat candy bars to feel okay, ignore customers b/c they're vile human beings, mistake a dead mouse for a gerbil ("oh no, that's a mouse, it's just bloated because it's been stuck in that trap for so long"). Fucking store.
Hello Breaking Point, nice to meet you.




---

The cars the cars
they go faster than me
It's okay, it's not a competition.
Take me off the road?
Sign that fucking petition!!
And see what it does, to my will.
Come back tomorrow, I'll be here still.

Ped'lin my bike as fast as I like
Down right lanes and up Left Only hills
Powered by my two wheels.

Powered by my...
Legs that are pumping
My heart that is thumping
My body that is feeling the thrills..

Of taking a close turn
See how it feels
To be close to the ground with only the sound
Of the spinning of your two wheels