On Mackinaw island in Northern MI, where cars are prohibited and only people of color serve you your dinner, I ventured by ferry with a group of progressive queers to the Grand Hotel for dinner and to present my piece Talkin’ Trash in the Homo No Mo Halfway House.
Last week in an e-mail the queer non-profit sponsoring the event informed us,
Men are required to wear a coat and tie and women a dress or pant suit.
Okay, that pissed me off. Boys dress like this and girls dress like that. Whose rules do we follow?
So on Saturday I bought a skirt that went beautifully with my Zegna summer weight charcoal gray suit.
Gender Queer, I marched through the dinning room, a living performance art piece. The racial/class divide in the room grieved me. (Knowing too that my own white male privilege enabled me to take these steps).
Time constraints kept me from doing my prepared prsentation, instead I spoke about the power of telling our stories, of white male power and privilege and the need for this particular foundation to learn from the scholars about how to not only be inclusive but to become liberating.
And I felt liberated in a whole new way.
Preach the Gospel at all times, when necessary, use words St. Francis of Assisi