Another Tomboy Becomes A Feminist

As an only child I played with the neighborhood children, who were mostly boys. This worked well for me since I had rejected every doll my family had ever given me. I loved playing baseball, basketball and even tag football in the streets with the boys. And I turned into a tough little girl too. I played as rough as I got, and I had the scrapes and bruises to prove it.

The boys would often play nice with me and then when I would win, they would step up the intensity. I always wanted them to play with me like I was a boy, an equal. Playing like equals was pretty easy between the ages of 4-7. Something happened at age 8 though. I think I become a GIRL, and now the foe.

Ever since I was 8 years old, I have never regained that easy camaraderie with boys or men. My attempts to be an equal whether in school or work have been rebuffed at best. I was now restricted to the company of girls and women. And, so I discovered by age 11 that females were considered by many people to be unequal to males.

But I knew better from my tomboy days...and so since then I have devoted a significant part of my life to ending sexism. I have become a feminist. I have gone to rallies and marches, I have been an editor of a feminist newsmagazine at UCLA, and I have worked at women's organizations in Washington, DC. I guess you could say I've contributed to the women's movement.

But I don't know if this tomboy will ever get to play like an equal with boys and men. But my hope is that future generations of women will have far more opportunities to play ball with the guys. And I hope they win too!

For Art’s Sake

Have you ever wanted to be a painter and live on the Left Bank in Paris? Well I have. So I just decided to teach myself how to paint. For me it was just like the Nike slogan, "Just Do It."
I used up a tremendous amount of paint and paper. My discovery process required making a lot of mistakes. Some mistakes were moments of serendipity where I had an "Ah-Ha". But most moments were just the makings of bad art---no grace or beauty about it. But I persisted, and with each and every attempt I became even more charged up about painting.

Finally, I had a breakthrough in technique, and voila I produced two or three paintings I could put up on my home's walls. (Kathleen has been a very supportive partner who has been willing to live with my art. She's wonderfully kind.)

Since boldness has always been my strong suit, I decided to share my work with the world. I choose to show at Artomatic. It's a non-juried show, so I didn't have to worry about not being "good enough." I just had to worry about being "bold enough" to do it. Well, I debuted in the 2004 show, and several other artists liked my paintings. I had accomplished my goal: paint and show. Now I needed to show and sell---much harder to do.

Meanwhile I kept buying enough paint and paper to fund a third world country. It was using up most of my discretionary income, but I was hooked on painting. I produced a few more presentable paintings and got an opportunity to be a part of a staff art show where I worked. Showing at work was like coming out as an artist to people who only thought they knew me. And since my work is abstract expressionism, they really saw a side of me that I hadn't "shown" them before. Despite my anxieties, everything went well. I now had two shows under my belt.

Finally, I got my big break. I donated a painting to a charity's gala, and my painting sold for a modest amount. But unfortunately, by then, I had painted myself out of money. And I'm still looking for another good job so that I can afford to paint again.

But above all else, my painting odyssey gave me confidence in myself. While I hope to do it again soon, if I can't, I am satisfied with the time I had with my painting---She was a lovely mistress, and she taught me some of my first lessons on becoming a Renaissance woman.

A Defining Moment…

You’d never guess it from my freshman year that I was going to be popular in college. I certainly didn’t plan on it or even plot it. It was just 1982, and I came out to myself and everyone else (except my family). And then there was an open position (or rather a huge vacancy) for a radical lesbian feminist student at UCLA. It was a wide open opportunity. I don’t think I had any competition except my girlfriend, who worked a different angle than I did.

At UCLA in those days we had special interest papers for ethnic, Jewish, LGBT and women’s issues. As a feminist I worked on the women’s newsmagazine, Together. I worked my way up from reporter to editor-in-chief. Finally, as a journalist I had become a BDOC (Big Dyke on Campus) and popular, at least with some people. But being a BDOC wasn’t all fun and games. The position had responsibilities too.

The LGBT student publication, Ten Percent (as it was known then) had lost its Business Manager, and if it couldn’t recruit another one, was facing shut-down. I struck a deal with the Chair of the Communications Board that if we could show support for Ten Percent in the form of a petition and a rally, the Communications Board would extend the deadline for finding a Business Manager and keep the paper alive.

I asked everyone to sign that petition to keep Ten Percent alive. People signed and signed. In a week I had close to 200 signatures. The campus Gay and Lesbian Association (GALA) got into the act and organized the rally for Ten Percent. We mobilized. Now remember this was 1983…it was UCLA but still it was 1983.

GALA got at least 12 different speakers for the rally. A crowd of at least 100 people gathered. Finally, my turn came to speak. All I could think to say was a rallying cry. So I raised my fist in front of that crowd and shouted “We’re gay and we’re not going away.” The other gays and lesbians in the crowd picked up the rallying cry and repeated it several times. Before long the whole crowd was chanting it.

From that moment onward, I knew what my heart’s mission would be in my lifetime. I had experienced my defining moment.

By the way, Ten Percent did get a Business Manager and is still thriving (albeit under a different name) today.

In My Day

What did you do in “your day” way back when? My day was when I was a student at UCLA in the early 80s. Oh, I did the typical pseudo-intellectual stuff---I drank a lot of coffee and smoked cigarettes (we still smoked in those days) while philosophizing about who knows what (I think we were really just exercising our developing minds). Later, after a six-month stint of hanging out in a Santa Monica gay bar, I launched into women’s studies classes, feminism and finally I become an editor of a women’s news magazine.

Meanwhile, there were romances and really just hook-ups, but it was all very lively and entertaining as I recall. Oh, there was heartache and heartbreak too. Let’s just say there was lots of drama, as you would expect from a university in the middle of movie land.

I even wrote a screenplay with a friend. It was a punk vs. mod new wave version of West Side Story titled Masquerade. Gee, I can’t believe I can still remember that pitch line. I must have repeated that pitch line to every agent and producer who would lend us an ear. My friend and I even got some action (interest) from a producer (a woman, of course) at Tristar. But unfortunately, the pressures of the biz contributed to the break-up of the collaboration between my friend and me. Oh well…

We didn’t have many parties in “my day” (because who could afford it? We were students after all). But we had one memorable party. This Halloween costume party stands out in my memory because people really came as themselves but just dressed up in costume. I came as Batwoman, and my collaborator, who we thought might have TB, came as the GERM. We were a motley assortment of characters.

So what about you? Please write me a brief comment about what “your day” was like. Did you come out? Get straight A’s in college, or just cut up a rug dancing your heart out? Come ‘on, tell us a little about “your day way back then…”

I Googled Her

Have you ever googled your Exes on the Internet? Just to find out what they’ve been doing since you’ve left their lives? I’m not a stalker. Not by any means. I’m a storyteller and the most familiar story I know about is my life and the lives of my friends and lovers. And anyway, I’m just a curious person I guess. I’m always wondering how my college friends and lovers’ lives have turned out. I guess people go to reunions to find out about that stuff. Well, now you don’t have to dress up or pay to go to a reunion. We have Google and a search by name.

The problem with googling your Exes by name is that so many people will have the same name as they do. I’m sure you all have encountered this on Facebook as well as the Internet. At least on Facebook you have a picture to work with. Not so if you do a Google search. It’s a name, a description and your best guess.

The funny thing about the searches I’ve made of my lovers is that Kathleen, my dearest of almost 16 years and who is into IT, can’t be found on the Internet. Gives me pause to wonder---what do those IT folks know that we don’t know…Anyway, most of my college friends and lovers turned up---some in expected places and doing expected things and some in not so expected places and doing unexpected things.

It’s not surprising that most of my friends and ex-girlfriends can be found on the Internet. They all were drawn to the spotlight and were mostly student journalists way back in the day at UCLA. Most of them have done a lot with their lives since college. I can’t wait to Google everyone when I suspect we’re all retired. Won’t that be interesting…I wonder what trouble we’ll all stir up then…

Come Out!

October 11 is a big day for us. It’s National Coming Out Day for the LGBT community. It’s a day full of challenges and inspirations. How you will come out depends upon you. Many of us are brave and come out to family, friends and in our workplaces. For others who need to take baby steps, it may be as simple as sporting a haircut that makes you “look like a lesbian.” Whichever way you choose to come out, remember this: only come out on your own terms and in your own way.

Many straight people are happy more of us are coming out. And yet they are unaware of the risks we are taking when we do so. I wrote the following rules for straight people. Please pass it along as you see fit.

LET THEM TELL YOU

A gay person faces many perils when coming out. If you are an LGBT person, coming out is a life-long and constant process.  For the most part, whoever you are, whatever you do and wherever you are, LGBT people are assumed to be straight.  Our society considers all of its members to be straight unless otherwise determined.  This puts the burden on LGBT people to reveal themselves, often at the risk of losing friends, family acceptance, their careers or even their personal safety.

Despite these risks, many LGBT people have come out and refused to live in silence and invisibility. There are many levels to coming out.  First, LGBT people must come out to themselves.  This self-recognition can happen anytime during the course of a lifetime.  Usually, the next level is when an LGBT comes out to other LGBT friends or a potential lover.  Later, people often seek out the LGBT community for friends, significant others or sexual partners.

There is an unwritten code in the LGBT community that it will not endanger its members.  This often translates into not “outing” someone’s sexual orientation to straight people, anyone who is not a member of the community or who is deemed untrustworthy.  This trust issue is where things get tricky in the community.  Sometimes it leads to a degree of paranoia within the community.

The next level of coming out is to straight friends and eventually family members.  For some this comes early depending on the expected level of acceptance from family and friends.  For other who have reasons to expect a negative reaction, it comes later or perhaps never.

Coming out in one’s career can be very difficult.  For most LGBT people the workplace is still one of “don’t ask, don’t tell.”  Many people have been either harassed or fired for revealing their sexual orientation.  In some municipalities non-discrimination laws are on the books, but in many workplaces the climate is still chilly for LGBT people. Exceptions are on the rise, and workplaces that endorse a “pro-equality” position encourage LGBT people to come out in this significant part of their lives.

Finally, the ultimate coming out is a public declaration in the media.  These LGBT people, nowadays often celebrities or politicos, go on record and often become role-models.  Ironically, the media attention often acts as a shield from detractors---not hiding or living in fear makes one stronger and less vulnerable.

Given the dangers and potential losses of coming out for LGBT people, straight people are advised to let LGBT people tell you.  Don’t come out for them.

October 11th is our day to come out and be proud. You may be surprised just how many people come out. Remember there is strength in numbers…and our numbers of brave people are growing every day. Let’s make October 11th a great day! Come outf
 

Such a Deal!

My friends and I are having ourselves a BFLYS (Big Fat Lesbian Yard Sale) in a couple of weeks. I’ll be liquidating the last of my hand-made tie-dye at clearance prices. Everything is priced to go.

Several years ago (in the deepest part of the recession) Kathleen and I tried our hands at making a small (in this case tiny) business go and make a profit. We were in the business of making and selling tie-dye t-shirts, tablecloths, scarfs and bandanas. The name of our business was Serendipity One, Retro Textile Designs, and all our products were hand-dyed and originally designed. Kathleen and I sold our wares at a county park’s flea market in an ice skating rink. The 1st year’s sales were encouraging, and we almost broke even.

I wrote the following promotion piece for Serendipity One’s Facebook page (which is still up and has photos of the t-shirt’s designs and colors) after our first day selling the t-shirts.

Why I Tie-Dye…

About a year ago, I went to my favorite arts and crafts store. This store is like a candy store for me. So many possibilities only limited by imagination and inspiration. I wandered the aisles and found myself in the blank white t-shirt and fabric dying aisle. I have never considered myself a crafter. I have always had loftier ambitions. I mean I’m an abstract expressionist painter. I’ve shown, for god sakes! But I found myself drawn to the tie-dye kit. “Oh, I can play at being a hippie,” something I was never very good at due to my bourgeoisie pretensions. I bought the kit, telling myself that I needed something to do with all my time since I was recently unemployed.

Well, I had a blast! I bought a handful of shirts and did tie-dye. A few of my creations even got compliments from a professional artist friend. My mother in LA was completely baffled by my new venture. “What about your painting?” Well, I painted, and then I fit in the tie-dye. I wore the t-shirts every day and everywhere. Soon I was buying t-shirts wholesale and dye from Dharma Trading Company. I was in production mode. I even got my girlfriend into making them. We bonded over tie-dye, and I even quit my 3 pack a day smoking habit—a miracle!

Soon all the shirts were creating a storage problem. So I bought bins and then more bins. I sold a few but I mostly sought encouragement by giving the t-shirts as gifts to friends. Much to my surprise, my friends raved about them. Quite frankly, I didn’t quite see what they saw. But doing the tie-dye was keeping me off the cigarettes, and I was grateful for the distraction.

Next, my friends began requesting a fall line, with darker colors and long sleeves. So why not, I was into this thing that had overtaken my life and kept me off the dreaded nicotine. I changed my dying methods and voila—a fall line. I sold a few more.

Meanwhile my part-time contract job was finishing up, and I decided that with little prospect of finding another job during this severe recession, I’d go into the tie-dye business. I’d start out with t-shirts and do custom orders for big jobs like tablecloths and bedspreads. So I took $200 out of my checking account and bought a $100 worth of t-shirts and another $100 worth of dye. My plan was to do a summer line of 40 shirts, all of which would be hand dyed.

I tie-dyed shirt after shirt. Slowly I built up my numbers. After approximately 30 new shirts, I mixed them into my inventory from the past year. I was ready to debut. Now I needed to find a location. I’m well aware that it’s all about “location, location, location” when it comes to business. But the arts and crafts exhibitor world is like a food chain; the better ones cost more in entry fees and are juried while the less desirable ones are cheaper but with questionable returns. So with the sage advice of my girlfriend, I decided to start small and hope to grow—I chose an upscale flea market.

Last Saturday we packed up the car and left at 6:45am for the Flea Market in the Park. The location was a covered outdoor skating rink in a county park. We had about 25 vendors ranging from the hat lady to the cake lady. (There were plenty of people doing the typical yard sale thing too.)

My girlfriend and I made sales well beyond the cost of the entrance fee. We felt like a success!

Well, we probably sold over 200 handmade t-shirts over the course of two years. I loved doing tie-dye but just couldn’t afford to keep putting money into the business. You know how it is… cash flow problems. But I have no regrets. I had the time of my life.

Now I need to move about 50-75 of the leftover t-shirts. I hope to sell them at The Big Fat Lesbian Yard Sale. Serendipity One’s t-shirts that sold for $15 will now be marked down to just $3. Where else can you get a cool looking t-shirt for $3 bucks? Such a deal, I’d say.

So if you’re in the DC area and on the listservs, keep an eye out for The Big Fat Lesbian Yard Sale. Details will be forthcoming.

The Line-Up

Guess where I am during the evening commute? I pick up my dearest at the Metro Kiss n Ride. It's really a happening place. I pull up and line up behind the other cars. We're all waiting for someone to emerge from the Metro's exit and get into their car. I often come early, long before Kathleen arrives. (So that I'll get a good place in the line-up and hopefully, move up to the front by the time Kathleen's train comes.)

At the Kiss n Ride I've got time on my hands. So I listen to the radio and drink a soda. Often that amuses me. But sometimes, I'll admit it, I people-watch. Lately I've been playing a game which I call "Can you match the car with the passenger?" or another one which is "Who goes with their bumper stickers?".

In my neighborhood almost everyone has bumper stickers and/or vanity plates. My neighbors aren't shy about advertising their political views, spiritual beliefs or preferences in restaurants. Some people are an easy match-up with their bumper stickers, and other people you would never guess so.

We do the pet bumper sticker, as you might guess. Since we're cat ladies, it all comes down for us to a short and pithy "MEOW."

In My Movie

You know how every town and industry has its own lingo? Well, I grew up in LA and went to UCLA. So as you might guess, I was surrounded by movies and their magic from the time I’d watch black and white movie classics with my mother as a pre-teen to now when I pick up another Netflix movie from the postbox.

When I was growing up movies were my portal to the outside world since I was stuck in conventional suburbia (and just hating it). But I didn’t just watch movies. No, I imagined movies or more precisely my future life as a movie. In Hollywood lingo, this is called imagining your own personal movie.

I guess you could say I have an active imagination. But ever since I left home at 18, I’ve been living out my imagination, whether it was horseback riding on the beach in Baja, Mexico or when I was working in Washington, DC for a progressive professional association that was just a short walk away from the US Capitol buildings.

It seems like life itself needs to be imagined and then willed into being. I know this is a Hollywood philosophy and from people who have more imagination than common sense. But there’s just something attractive and thrilling about being “in your own movie.”

So the next time you pop in a DVD into the recorder, hit the pause button and imagine what’s going on “in your movie” a year from now. You’ll probably be surprised!

It’s CHAOS

That’s right! Our house is in a state of CHAOS (Can’t Have Anyone Over Syndrome). Just saying that our house is in a state of disarray or just needs a little tidying up would be disrespectful to the creative state of upheaval our house has become.

Of course, my partner and I both have issues about this CHAOS. We both want a tidy and clean house, but we just don’t seem able to execute the chores to make it so. So what do we do?

We buy books about housekeeping (My partner even reads them!). We also try “take back your house” programs (with some success until we’re overcome with some additional stressor that derails us for a while). Or we do the sure fire method: invite people over to our house for a get-together or a party. (Now it’s necessary that you actually care about what your invitees think about you; otherwise this motivational technique fails miserably.)

Still, after the party, the read book, or the Internet housekeeping program, our house de-evolves into another creative mess. At best our cleaning and tidying up rotates like the lunar cycle. Now, it only takes 28 days for it to become a full mess again.

But things are getting better. Both my partner and I are committed to overcoming the CHAOS somehow or someway. Because, you know, we’re really not messy people.