Whimper

After some strikingly distressing movie experiences this weekend, I find myself in the midst of an unaccustomed bout of despair. I could as well be in a friendlier and more accustomed mood of hope. But driving through the fields that surround Boulder this afternoon, where my favorite activity is watching for hawks and coyotes, I realized that my mood was leaning more toward “oof” than toward “yippee.” 

I attribute this largely to these two movies I saw that were both inspiring and deeply troubling. I was thinking about writing something about the inspiring part of each of them—and I will mention that—but I found myself overtaken by this distressing feeling I carried away from the second one. More a punch in the gut that a kick in the ass, to borrow neighboring metaphors. Here's the story.

On Friday night—some hours before they closed the CU campus to outsiders like me (and sprayed the grass with fish fertilizer) in an effort to stop the 4/20 “smokeout”—I went to an event on campus. The campus is beautiful on these spring evenings, and I was prepared to enjoy my outing.

The event featured the film “Precious Knowledge,” followed by some speakers.  This film is about a Mexican-American Studies program in a Tucson Arizona high school that got cancelled because powerful folks thought it taught kids awful things—like about their ethnic roots, about oppression, and about self-empowerment. Never mind that the graduation rates among these kids soared (heck, the staying-in-school rates soared, pretty much a prerequisite for graduation). Never mind that these kids were learning personal responsibility and collective problem solving. It was seditious, what they were teaching! It was hateful and racist! It violated what Martin Luther King taught! All nonsense, of course, but the folks in power had the wherewithal to declare it so, and the program was cut. Heartbreaking.

There were great stories here, too, of kids who made it through school because of this program and, equally marvelous, of kids who decided they would work to change the world because of their experience in this program. Actually, they have already tried mightily, lobbying, fund raising, even running as a relay team from Tucson to Phoenix to testify before state officials in an effort to save the program. One girl had a tattoo on her ankle that she designed as a reminder of her need to work for a better world. Inspiring.

Then today, I saw the film “Bully” (now in a theater near you; here’s the official trailer … more clips online). This is a film about a handful of kids in various towns (all in the Midwest and South, unless I missed someone) who endure daily, relentless bullying from their peers. Their collective sin, of course, is that they’re different. The adults in the film—especially school administrators at all levels, police, government officials, and other “public servants,” but also parents—somehow just don’t get it. They ask the bullied kids to change instead of insisting that their tormentors stop. They write it off as “kids will be kids.” They minimize, trivialize, disregard, and blame the victim until it made me want to cry. No, actually, it made me cry.

There were uplifting stories here, too. Parents who have taken it upon themselves to spend a lifetime working to end bullying, although it took their losing a child for them to do that. A lesbian teenager who chose to stay in her small town, even though her parents said they would move to someplace more welcoming, because she wanted to help change things. “If we move away,” she said, “they win.” She finally decided she wanted to move, but still plans to work to change things—just somewhere else. Inspiring.

Then, to add another layer to the weekend, my partner was off in Minnesota, participating in a major event designed to educate folks in that state about same-sex marriage ahead of their anti-marriage equality ballot initiative this fall. This, too, has both up and down sides. Upper: How wonderful that people from all walks of life are now gathering around to support LGBT folks in their battle for marriage equality. Not long ago, little such activism could be found. Downer: Why is it necessary to prove that LGBT people—heck, any people—are entitled to the same rights as other human beings?

Usually, I’m pretty easily able to grab onto the uplifting parts of stories like these. To feel inspired, see them as lessons for my own life and reminders that good things are happening. Usually, I’d be saying, “Isn't this cool? Look at all the ways that folks are working for progressive change!”

But this time, I just came away bummed. It’s wonderful that these kids are standing up against racism, homophobia, oppression of all sorts. It’s great that they’re aspiring to noble, change-the-world goals. But it makes me so sad that they have to. It’s wonderful that parents become ambassadors and organizers for their kids. But how tragic that they lost a child before they were moved to do that. It’s great that the world is beginning to grasp that equal rights for LGBT people is simply another form of equal rights for all. But why is this even a question?

I’ll get over this, I’m certain. Soon. But sometimes, I just need to suck my thumb and whimper.