Abuse is No Excuse: An Overexhausted Trope in 'Stranger Things' and Onscreen in General

I know I'm suuuuuper late to the party, but I finished Stranger Things 3 a few weeks ago, and, well, I noticed a gap in the "hot takes" and stuff floating around the intertubes, one I would think is pretty obvious, but I guess not?

Ok, so let me get this out of the way: I agree with everyone else on the internet criticizing the behavior of Jim Hopper pretty much the entire season. He's abusive towards everyone with which we see him interact- male, female, adult, child, whatever. And this is especially egregious on the part of the writers because it's almost always played for laughs. I'm not saying this analysis isn't true, nor that it isn't important- trivializing that kind of behavior contributes to the discourses that perpetuate it, and having lived with someone who treated me that way in particular, it was pretty hard to watch (calmly*) at times.**

But.

I think a different male character's behavior deserves some critique. And that's Billy.

You see, Billy is a complete monster that does absolutely nothing in the show, in either season in which he's present, to earn any sort of empathy or concern. Rather, the writers simply slipped in a Freudian excuse for his being so awful, but because they never included a moment where he earns redemption (up until the very end- I'll get to that), it just comes across as a cheap appeal to pity and has, at best, no effect. And if you're anything like me, that sad attempt at garnering sympathy only made you hate him more- so, you know, it had the opposite effect from what they were going for. 

 Part 1: Billy Doesn't Earn It

Watch this supercut of all of Billy and Max's scenes from season 2; keep in mind, these are all of his establishing moments, if we think about season 2 as the setup for 3.

Since this is just the scenes between him and Max, this doesn't show the one where the dad is a dick towards him. But... Does it matter? Things he does here, in no particular order:

1) Is just generally a dick to Max at all times.
2) Is demonstrably racist.
3) Nearly kills a bunch of kids on their bikes.
4) Uses physical intimidation and implied threats of violence in attempts to control Max. 
5) Assaults Lucas.
6) We also see the very last bits of his fight with Steve, one that happened as a result of 5. 

All of this, and especially just how these scenes are filmed, with ominous music and lingering camera angles, sets him up as a secondary villain, of sorts.

And then, by season 2, even though Max does get him to leave her alone in:re Lucas, she seems genuinely afraid of Billy, more so than in the first season, where she stands up to him on more than one occasion. I don't know if this is just shitty writing or direction, or if it's more like a deeper look at her underlying emotions about him- after all, much of season two could be viewed as a "brave face," so to speak.

Aside from that, he also deliberately tries to incite a married woman into having an affair with him. And it's not because he cares about her- he doesn't give a shit about her as a person. It's framed entirely as an example, so to speak, of his reprehensible behavior. We're meant to be kind of disgusted by the whole thing- by the grown-ass ladies who while purportedly watching their kids spend the whole time at the pool trying to flash dem tiddies at a teenager; by his absolutely shameless innuendo; by his super-accomplished, machismo-infused swagger once he thinks he's nailed it (or at least is about to, 'natch).*** Again, you can tell by how it's shot and the sound/music production around it all. When he's driving to meet her, it's filmed more like a villain on their way to kill the hero as opposed to a protagonist about to get a little ass. 

All of this demonstrates, then, that every action, every single thing he does, is morally and/or ethically bad, and that he's, thus, a Bad Person. So much so that when he gets attacked at the end of the first episode of season 3, I actually cheered and fist-pumped. 

This made me so damned happy

And while sure, not everybody was as glad as I was to see Billy get what was coming to him, I find it hard to believe anybody was as sad for him as they'd have been if it was, say, Nancy. 

And here's the thing. They could have included more scenes with the dad being abusive toward him. They wouldn't have mattered. 

Because up until the moment he gets snatched by the Mind Flayer, he does absolutely nothing to actually earn any positive feelings. And I really do want to emphasize that the cinematography, sound design, and score all feed into the idea that he's a Bad Dude we aren't supposed to have positive feelings for to begin with, all through season two and during episode one of season three. 

Then, in the sixth episode of season 3, El taps into his memories. 

Part 2: A Shitty Appeal to Pity

El actually sees a few things from Billy's memories: It starts with a memory of him on the beach, surfing, while his mom watches and cheers him on- so happy! Then, she sees his dad abusing him (notably, calling him a "pussy") (uuuuuugh),  then his dad beating his mom (accusing her of cheating and calling her a "whore") (uuuuuugh), and then young Billy calling another kid a "pussy" as he beats this other kid up. She also sees him pleading over the phone with his mom to come back and the later introductions he had with Max. 

So as if him parroting what his dad yelled wasn't enough to say, "SEE?!!? HE'S DOING WHAT HE WAS TAUGHT!!!" we're supposed to feel sorry for him because his mom left, and the fact that he'd had a happy moment with her is supposed to humanize him in a positive way.

This latter part is especially crucial because it's the basis for his "redemption."

Because when El describes the memory to him, while he's actively trying to kill her (granted, while under Mind Flayer control), that somehow makes him decide to do the right thing for a change, and he protects her at the very last second and dies.

You know what that reminded me of, though? At least the "lemme bring up your mom to give you a change of heart" part?

MARTHAAAAA!

And so I just... didn't care. It was at the very end, and it was too little, too late for me. Maybe that makes me heartless, but I have personal reasons for feeling that way, which I'll get to. But I didn't care. If anything, I was kind of annoyed. Like, really? Y'all went there?

I will say, I liked the choice to focus on Max's reaction to his death more than anyone else's. Her face got the majority of screen time during that scene, at least among the living/not dying, and that worked for me. Sadie Sink did a damn good job with that, and she deserves WAY more props than she gets, people. Seriously.  

Part 3: Analytically Speaking, It's Bad

So okay, from a storytelling, screenwriting perspective, it's bad. I know there are pro-Billy people out there, but my feeling is the writers picked a lazy, overdone method to explain his behavior and try to garner some sympathy. TVTropes by no means has an exhaustive list of all of the times where the Freudian excuse has been used, but if you try to read through all of them... Look at how damned long it's taking you! It's overdone! It's old hat!

And just like they talk about with their appeal to pity entry, the Martha mom stuff falls flat. Or, at least it did for me. Because it's an exaggerated example of even bad men love their Mamas. Look, he was happy with her! And look, he was sad when she left!!

But they're memories- they aren't reflections of his actions in the present narrative. I guess we're to assume the dad beat all of that joy out of him, but again, Freudian excuse, dude. I don't care. It's so overdone. So many movies, particularly horror movies, have super asshole-ee bullies, always male, that are just absolutely horrible. The main character(s) are scared of them, not just annoyed by them, and these kids to absolutely awful things. Then at some point, there's a scene that follows said bully home/ takes place at their home, and we see the dad slapping them around/ beating them up/ questioning their masculinity. Now, it's a crapshoot, but I feel like usually the bully ends up getting offed by the killer/monster/whatever after this "reveal," and it's supposed to not only explain the bully's cruelty, but also garner sympathy/make us feel sad for him when he dies. 

A pretty current example I think a lot of people should be familiar with is Henry Bowers from It (2017). And it's also a really good comparison, because I suspect Billy is modeled very deliberately on Henry. This video goes through the entire history of Henry, based on the book (and using clips from both the 1990 miniseries and 2017 movie, as well as direct excerpts from the book); and while the whole video isn't necessary to understand the parallels, the first four minutes or so give you an idea: Henry's dad is abusive, so much so that his biological mother left when he was little but without taking her son, and it's clear that he projects his anger/pain onto the people he bullies, but also that he's pretty unhinged, even before whatever evil influences start affecting him; and I think most importantly, it's blurry as to how much of what he does after the evil entity starts influencing him is a result of that or his own desires, or if the evil entity is simply exacerbating those desires and pushing him to act on them more. Much like how Max has to divert Billy's car from hitting the boys in Stranger Things, Victor in this scene thinks Henry is taking it too far when Henry wants to carve his name into Ben's stomach in this scene:

Henry dies as a kid in the 2017 film, but as an adult in the book and miniseries, and it's that 2017 interpretation I think is closer to the more common trope. Admittedly, I've never read the book, but from the sound of it (from what I've seen in research, like that video explaining the character's history), Stephen King's original vision for the character, that we see him as broken and washed out, is a richer, fuller examination of The Bully than we seem to frequently get.  

My guess, with respect to Stranger Things, is that the Duffer Brothers wanted to "subvert" the idea of a bully via the memories El taps into, as well as his last-second sacrifice. But they had done such a good job of making us fear and loathe him that by the time that moment came, it didn't matter to me. Like I said in comparing Henry to Billy, it was unclear to me how much of Billy's actions after S2E1 were purely a result of the Mind Flayer's psychic direction. He tells Heather not to be afraid just before the Mind Flayer does its thing, "it'll all be over soon, just stay very still," but why would the Mind Flayer care whether its victims were afraid? And the last shot of episode 3, for example, is Billy smirking as Heather knocks her dad out with chloroform- does the Mind Flayer experience pleasure at its ends being achieved? I just find those sorts of things hard to grasp. Billy says he "tried," but how much of what the Mind Flayer was getting him to do did he not want to? Given his sadistic nature before, it's hard to tell, and that almost makes the choice of having Billy be the Mind Flayer's conduit worse- because the line between Mind Flayer's direction and Billy's inherent desires is too blurry. 

I'm not saying it would have been impossible to do, either- but again, given how awful he'd been before, it's hard to tell what's Billy and what's Mind Flayer. So then his "humanizing" and "redemption" fall flat.

Part 4: My Own Hangups

Now I do want to admit I've experienced abuse, in multiple contexts before. And I know for a fact that this is influencing my feelings on the matter. After all, I'm not an asshole or a bully- I'm the opposite. And while the prevailing theory in the cultural zeitgeist says that abusers beget abusers, there's actually not much research to back that up. If you look at that report closely, basically they figure that results are often somewhat cherry-picked, samples aren't great, and variables aren't isolated enough to really say abused kids end up abusing their own offspring. Some of the language is kind of jargony, but the overall conclusions are important to note because they underscore the weakness of the trope of the abused bully. 

And I guess you could say I'm a case study in a kid becoming the opposite of what they grew up around, as well as the opposite of a partner perpetuating what a previous partner did- and this is entirely deliberate on my part. I choose not to drink regularly, I actively seek to be understanding and keep my temper in check, and while I don't have kids of my own now, I certainly wasn't a bully as a kid- quite the opposite, actually, since I was often the kid getting bullied.

So there's a part of me that doesn't have sympathy for a character like Billy because, well, I didn't bully people, so fuck that guy, so to speak. I acknowledge this fully. 

I feel especially disgusted with his treatment of Max. As a kid, I put myself out there in the line of fire and took the brunt of the negativity in my household in order to shield my siblings from it. I've come to terms with all of it and stuff by now, as much as I can, anyway, but similarly to the "I didn't become a bully!" bit, part of me feels like he should have been protecting her, not scaring her and intimidating and controlling her. Instead of trying to prevent what had been happening to him from happening to her, he does it to her himself, to a degree, and that just... God, it makes me so angry, on a personal level. 

It's kind of stupid- it's just a TV show, after all. And yet, it drags up memories and feelings and yeah, I judge Billy as a "person" and compare his actions and choices to my own, finding he comes out wanting. I don't think I'm a saint, by any means, but in making the comparison, I end up putting Billy in the bottom dregs of humanity. 

That still doesn't mean the memories El uncovers were really enough for earning Billy the redemption the writers clearly wanted him to get. 

Part Five: Is it Necessary?

One could also argue that the memories and abuse he experiences simply serve to make Billy more complex. I'll buy this a bit more than the fact that they're supposed to make me actively feel sorry for him (at least in season two- the way the memories are portrayed in season three, they're obviously meant to make us feel sorry for him, so I'm not sure if this was a change in direction or what). But I think TheMarySue did a good write-up about whether redemption for complex characters is really necessary via Catra in She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. And it's kind of great because I was going to basically say some of the same things.

Why does Billy need a redemptive moment? 

I think it's scarier to consider a dude that's just irredeemably awful, even to his family, for one thing. Like the guy in the video about Henry Bowler says at the beginning, when it's not just the Big Bad that has to be contended with, the tension and fear are heightened. There's no safe space, or at least far fewer, for our hereo(es), and this raises the stakes.

Like Catra, Billy has a right to be angry at the world- his dad is abusive and his mom abandoned him, leaving him with that abuser, at a young age. But it's what he does with it that makes him irredeemable, and that's okay, from a writing perspective. Or at least, it should be.

And don't get me wrong- I do think there's something to be said for demonstrating a Bad character's humanity without turning it into an attempt at earning them redemption for their Bad Behavior. In the real world, actual abusers are still people, after all. I've forgiven anyone that's ever hurt me, and I wish them no ill will; I still grieve the loss of my dad, and I still hope my ex will someday get to see his son again, despite the custody battle he was dealing with when we were together. But I can still acknowledge that my dad never did anything to atone for his treatment of me and my mom, and that my ex remains a narcissist and will probably never be capable of a healthy relationship, as far as I'm aware.  

Like I said before, aside from that moment when he sacrifices himself, he does nothing to earn redemption. And the trouble is, I can't really think of anything he could do that would earn it for him, while not seeming like a cheap Pet the Dog move or, worse, come across as patronizing. Because while I mentioned that he perpetuates the household abuse by being so awful to Max, at the same time, it would have been really hard for the writers to show him protecting her from their dad without it coming across as super sexist.

Part Six: Masculinity and Gender and the Abused Bully

I mentioned before that the abused bully is pretty much always a male. And again, in some rather on-the-nose, Hammer of Subtlety slamming, Billy's dad calls him a "pussy" as he beats him in one memory, and then in pretty much the next one, Billy calls a kid he's beating up one. Plus, there's the whole sexuality aspect, his enjoying the attention from the moms at the pool and talking Nancy and Mike's mom into meeting him at a motel, as well as how he saw his dad call his mom a "whore" when he was a kid. 

And while The Bully is often a storytelling device- in It, the way the adults look away when the Bowler Gang is torturing the Losers signifies the denial said adults are in on the general level, and it helps increase the danger of the atmosphere in which the story takes place, since it means the Losers have no one to turn to for help, for example- I think the fact that they're almost always males at least inadvertently is making a statement about masculinity. I don't know what this trope is supposed to be saying about masculinity, but a pretty generic analysis reads that hypermasculinity is bad, and that oft' used term "toxic masculinity" leads to all sorts of problems- emphasized in the back-to-back uses of "pussy" in Billy's memories, and the "whore" line from the dad.

But I think a more nuanced look really comes down to the struggle within contemporary men over, well, what to do. And that without a proper, positive model, men who have been abused and told by their father(s) and society that they're bad and "toxic" have little to no recourse. They don't really know how they're "supposed" to behave, only that everything they do do is "bad."

Natalie Wynn talks about this kind of stuff in her most recent video:

And I think this actually garners more sympathy than having El tap into a memory of Billy laughing on the beach. 

The problem with this, naturally, is that it's pretty difficult to incorporate a male character's perceptions of the hegemonic discourses surrounding men and masculinity into a TV show or movie without it getting dry and/or feeling like it's derailing the plot- and in a TV show or movie, the plot needs to keep moving forward. 

 Part Seven: I Dunno

I'll admit, I don't really know what to do about it. Like I said, The Bully often serves as a storytelling device- an easy, convenient one. I think my best notion is that we don't always need the bully's backstory. Why does it matter that they're being an asshole to the main character? I usually feel less frustration with bullies in movies and TV when they're just tertiary obstacles the protagonist deals with, when they're outside the main conflict and are presented more as another inconvenience the main character deals with regularly.

To bring it back to Stranger Things, the group of kids that go to school with and pick on the main characters bothers me a lot less than Billy does. Because I don't need to know "why" they're bullies- it's middle school, there are going to be assholes like that. I don't need to hear about how one of them lost his dad in a car accident or armed robbery or something, I don't care whether one of them has an older sibling that beats them up or not. They exist as a realistic obstacle middle schoolers would deal with, but that's it. Middle school bullies as a Thing don't need an explanation, and the show doesn't bother giving one- and I'm fine with that.

Another thing I can say is I accept the times when the person that used to pick on the main character(s) ends up being chased alongside the latter by the Big Bad and they end up teaming up/allying themselves to take Big Bad down a lot more easily than the appeal to pity approach. I'll take a pragmatic partnership over a generic sob story any day.

What may be interesting is if the "cycle" gets directly confronted. I can't say I've really seen this before, but if someone finds out and uses that as a way to get through to the bully- if they express their sadness for the bully and desire to help them, and this gets the bully to stop bullying, that could potentially work, if done right. It could very easily just end up super fucking cheesy, but a "don't be like your dad" speech has at least some potential. 

But overall, I'm just not sure. I'm not a screenwriter, and like I said before, I'm somewhat personally invested in the trope itself, so I'm probably too "close" to the issue to come up with a decent solution.

Still, I think it's something that has the potential to be really interesting, but usually falls flat. And as much as the rest of the internet seems to think Billy's arc was "great," I didn't, and this comes from both just a general pop culture consumer perspective, as well as that of an abuse survivor. I just hope I'm not alone in it. If I am, that's fine, but if you, reader, thought it was good before, I hope this longass rant of mine helps you understand why I felt the way I did when watching it unfold, and maybe even helps you reconsider your position. Either way, thanks for reading. 

*There was a lot of vocal "WHAT THE FUCK" and "fucking ASSHOLE"ing whenever he was being a shit.

**And while I didn't bother reading all of the above-linked critiques of his behavior, just in case none of them mentioned it, the fact that he's 1) police chief, and 2) beats multiple dudes up- in front of Joyce, nonetheless- only adds to the terribleness. Having witnessed what he's capable of, a woman not in a TV show written by men would have been absolutely terrified about what he'd do if she crossed him/pissed him off/etc. "If I don't do what he says, he could kill me and get away with it because he's the chief of police." Hell, any reasonable person would think that. 

***There is some interesting film symmetry in how during both of his first scenes in the two seasons, females are oggling him. In the first season, as you can see in that supercut, it's highschoolers; in the second, it's the moms.

Spooning and "Just"ing

I've been sort of on a mental health kick lately here, but I've got another topic I want to talk about; it's been in the back of my mind for a while, and a conversation with someone I love the other day made me decide to just get it out of my system.

Let's start with that lovely Spoon Theory, started by Christine Merisandino. While she came up with it on the fly to describe what it's like living with lupus to a friend, the idea has been carried over into other areas of disability and (in)capacity to "even," as it were. So although depression and anxiety are, at least in theory, mental/emotional disorders (because keep in mind, mental and emotional exhaustion pretty much always ends up leading to physical exhaustion after a point), the metaphysical "spoons" needed to carry out one's day whilst living with conditions like these translate similarly to those of a physical condition, like Merisandino's lupus. But essentially, the idea is, you have a finite amount of resources (the "spoons") to use throughout the day in order to do... everything. Everything from getting up in the morning, to showering, to getting dressed, going to work/school, eating, errands... Everything. And if you run out, you're basically fucked. So you have to kind of prioritize and decide what you absolutely must do sometimes, what you can put off until tomorrow, etc., if you have enough spoons to see a friend, treat yourself to a dinner out, etc. She also points out how sure, you can essentially take out an "advance" on your spoons and pull from the next day's supply, but you also can't be sure something won't crop up that will make that day all the harder.

While no analogy is perfect ("Why a spoon?" "What if you had a few huge spoons?" etc., for example), especially when acted out physically, as she did with her friend, it actually really can drive the point home. A few years ago, I simulated it with a colleague that genuinely wanted to understand my depression and anxiety (we used hangars 😂), and her reaction was pretty similar to Merisandino's friend.

So what?

Well, I've talked before about how best to comfort someone going through a hard time. I still use the bad behaviors I talk about there as an indication as to whether or not I should confide in someone. But another thing I use is what I (and the friend I talked to) call the "Why don't you just __?" Litmus Test.

And the reason this is related to the spoons is that if I'm out of spoons, no, I can't  "just" do anything. I'm out. My supply is empty.

And, if I'm out of spoons, I can't even begin to think about the "just" or coming up with a plan to "just" in the first place. It takes spoons to even start contemplating how to use spoons, let alone actually using one.

Sometimes, I just need the chance to wash and recuperate my spoons before I can think of what comes next. We all do. So even though it would be great if you "just could" whatever, even though a part of you knows there's something you "could" be doing, the idea of even thinking of it is just so not happening, because the prospect of the spoon cost in even that endeavor is just overwhelming.

And this. This is something that doesn't really get brought up enough, not in this capacity, anyway. Because there's a difference between not being ready to do something, and not being ready to think about doing something. And while I see discussions of the former, I don't see many, if any that I can recall, of the latter. How it takes spoons to think about how to use more spoons.

In other words, spooning is hard.

And I think this is especially important to consider vis a vis Millenial Burnout. We're so busy spinning our wheels and working our asses off (whether it be juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet, or the constant connectivity to our workplaces, generated by social media, email, and smartphones, that translates to never really, truly being off the clock), that we feel like "simple, mundane" stuff takes up more spoons than we can spare- so we put it off. A huge part of that comes from how Peterson talks about debt not just being about student loans, but the lies we were conditioning our lives around: "It’s also about the psychological toll of realizing that something you’d been told, and came to believe yourself, would be 'worth it' — worth the loans, worth the labor, worth all that self-optimization — isn’t." But because we've been, again, conditioned to go with it, since it's all we know, we keep spinning those wheels. And while both simultaneously becoming more and more disillusioned and continuing to believe, we are damaging our very psyches. As she goes on to say, "We put up with companies treating us poorly because we don’t see another option. We don’t quit. We internalize that we’re not striving hard enough. And we get a second gig."

And this fucks with the spoon supply.

For me personally, too, Petersen's discussion of how being poor taps into your spoons has stuck with me since the article first came out. 

"In recent years, new scientific research has demonstrated the “massive cognitive load” on those who are financially insecure. Living in poverty is akin to losing 13 IQ points. Millions of millennial Americans live in poverty; millions of others straddle the line, getting by but barely so, often working contingent jobs, with nothing left over for the sort of security blanket that could lighten that cognitive load. To be poor is to have very little mental bandwidth to make decisions, “good” or otherwise — as a parent, as a worker, as a partner, as a citizen. The steadier our lives, the more likely we are to make decisions that will make them even steadier."

It's important to bring up financial insecurity when talking about burnout, then- juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet and living paycheck to paycheck isn't just physically exhausting, but mentally so. For people like me, whose anxiety can get the best of them sometimes, the fact that I don't make enough to save yet- when I'm in my mid-thirties, nonetheless- is a huge drain on my capacity to even, often because I (we) fear both the costs of handling things I/we know I/we should and the repercussions of not handling them. This isn't new to Millenials, but it's not restricted just to people living on SNAP and in Section 8 housing- it happens to the people that make juuuuust enough to cover their stuff, but not enough to save, too. I have a roof over my head, my bills get paid on time, etc., but there isn't enough money leftover after each pay cycle for me to invest, drop into savings, etc., so shit freaks me out. 

Example: The light on the air filter button in my car hasn't been on for a month, indicating to me the filter probably needs to be changed. But I'm too scared to see how much the fix would cost/ actually go get it done because the last three times I took my car in for something routine, I was out an entire paycheck and still needed to borrow money because lo, that other thing I thought maybe was a problem but never looked into ended up being ginormous, or some other thing happened that ruined everything, etc. But, I need the air filter because it helps reduce my exposure to allergens, thus reducing the likelihood I get a sinus infection and/or strep; and I don't think it's a coincidence that I had the former last week (still on antibiotics), and so part of me knows it's only a matter of time until I do get strep again and am down for the count for three-plus days. And while yeah, strep doesn't sound like that big of a deal, keep in mind, I'm paid hourly, for when I'm there. If I'm sick, I don't get paid, which means bills don't get paid. So that is why I don't want to get sick. Thus, it's this huge internal conflict every time I get in the gorram car. And even though I'm not really doing anything, that takes up spoons- the seeing the light not on sends my brain spiraling, and it's hard to deal with on a less-good day.

And if I brought this filter thing up with anyone, the vast majority of people would say, "Why don't you just take your car in?"

So let's get back to that litmus test. "Why don't you just__?"

It doesn't have to be phrased exactly that way, of course, but the basic idea that you're not doing the obvious and/or easy thing of your own volition and will assumes 1) you're in a condition to do so and won't, and 2) are in a condition to come up with the plan and execute it, but won't. And like I said before, that second assumption is the one that doesn't get talked about as often. But it happens: When you're in the thick of things, sometimes it's literally impossible to picture a way out. Not because of hopelessness or despair, but because you're drowning and your gorram brain literally can't go there.

You're out of spoons. So you shut down.

And this? This is trauma. Shutting down doesn't happen out of stubbornness, or laziness. It's a neurological reaction to stimuli, conditioned by past experiences, and a manifestation of the brain's response to those experiences. I shouldn't have to tell you that trauma effects your brain- just Google it and read some of the research on it. But suffice to say, shutting down is a survival tactic, initiated by your brain when things get too heavy. I'm not saying being overworked is the same as being in a car accident or getting assaulted. But. I think there's a reason some of the symptoms of the aftermath are similar- similar things happen to the brain in these situations, and the resulting behaviors afterword are related.

When there is enough trauma, the brain starts to go into survival mode by default and, among other things, the fear centers go into overdrive. It's an adaptive behavior, meant to preserve the body, but your brain doesn't understand your emotions and situations the way your actual consciousness does. So when something realistically harmless but existentially frightening comes your way, your brain either panics and you start freaking out, or it just nopes the hell out of there and you shut down.

Shutting down is basically
the "flight" reaction

I think this is especially why people get perceived as "dragging their feet" when it comes to getting mental health help, at least sometimes. Even if they want to improve their mental health, the idea of figuring out how is, in itself, terrifying and overwhelming and would just cost too many spoons to follow through with. So they grit their teeth and force themselves through another day, because at least they know how to budget their spoons on a regular day without taking on such a big task.

The somewhat ironic part is that often times, even just having a plan ends up increasing your net worth in spoons. I've been there before- where the idea of figuring out how to solve a problem was too terrifying, but then once I did- and not even necessarily did the thing I realized I needed to do, just, y'know, realized it- I felt so much stronger, more alive, like I had so many more spoons. 

Now, this doesn't mean I "should just" anything. I didn't attack it directly earlier, but too often there's a sort of moral superiority involved in conversations involving the "just" assertion on the part of someone. A judgment and normative evaluation of the person they're talking to. An implication that if they "just" got off their ass and pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, everything would be fine. Even if not intended, and honestly, even if the person making that "just" statement actually means well and wants to help, they come across as at best, sort of know-it-all-ee, and at worse, a raging asshole. But obviously, the person making this judgment is either (best case) unaware of or (worst case) ignoring the fact that making a plan requires at least one spoon, and well, the other person is out.

And like okay, there's also the "reading the room" factor, too- anybody whose spoon supply is that low already knows it, and being reminded of it by a "just" statement only makes them feel worse- and, hey, probably diminishes their spoon supply right there; go figure!

ISN'T MENTAL ILLNESS FUN!?!?!

My point with all this is twofold. 

1) I want more people to acknowledge this. That it's not just about having the capacity to start doing something about the hardships in our lives when they crop up or accelerate, it's having the mental and emotional resources (spoons) to come up with how to do something about those hardships sometimes that keeps us from doing so. 

2) Asking someone, "Why don't you just..." or making statements equivocal to that is insensitive, at the very, very best. I want to reiterate something I said in one of those older blog posts I linked above in this one: Sometimes people just need to vent. Ask if someone wants advice before giving it. And be very careful about how you do phrase it. Never in any way make it sound like the thing you're suggesting is easy without first acknowledging how hard it will be to get it started- otherwise, by saying it's easy, you're insinuating the person you're talking to is lazy/not trying/etc.

And I think if the first point happens more, the second will follow. How hard spooning is in some contexts will be more understood, so fewer "just"ing will happen to people having a hard time. 

It would be nice if this was the problem:

Instead, it's this:

And once we understand this, like Neo, we'll all be better off. 

Hot Take: We Don't NEED to Talk About It, You Just Want To

This is going to be tricky to do, so forgive me if I kind of veer off course a bit, but I'll try to stay on-target.

I'm not sure exactly when it started, but as of late, it seems like every other headline starts with the phrase "We Need to Talk About..." And while some of the issues that "need" talking about are somewhat valid, I find that the vast majority of articles that express this level of urgency in their headline end up being about something superficial at best. All this, while it sometimes feels like the world is burning down around us, and I just find it annoying and disingenuine, not to mention irresponsible on the part of journalists. Let me explain.

I think my overall frustration with this has more to do with the extra trivial stuff that isn't going to change any systems of oppression in this world. Here are some examples of this frivolity (some are spoilers for Game of Thrones or Avengers: Endgame, so be warned):

We Need to Talk About Martha Stewart's Instagram

We Need to Talk About the Night King's Perfectly Shaped Nails

We Need to Talk About Rami Malek and Real Life Angel Lucy Boynton at Met Gala 2019

We need to talk about Jaime Lannister's 'f*ckboy' move at the end of this week's 'Game of Thrones.'

We Need To Talk About Nick Jonas And Priyanka Chopra At The 2019 Met Gala

We Need To Talk About The Celebrities Who Didn't Stick To The Met Gala Theme

We Need To Talk About Gwendoline Christie's Fashion Game Because DAMN

You get my drift. No, we don't need to talk about Lady GaGa's (or anybody else's, for that matter) Met gala outfits. The short version is, 

Especially when in the greater context of things we really do need to talk about- and I'll get to that later.
One from that above list, the one about Jamie, could actually have been much better-written/have had more meaningful content, and it's a good transition move for me, here. If you aren't caught up on Game of Thrones, skip ahead to the gif of the puppy, since up until then, 

I had a lot of issues with the latest episode (S8E4), and one of them was that moment when Jamie rode off into the night, leaving Brienne a crying, sobbing mess. I can understand why it was actually REALLY great, development-wise for him, because, as Awesome Boyfriend pointed out to me, it was the first time he actually, undeniably owned up to his sins and his faults. Any other time, he had been dodgy, at best, so good on him!!! Except... it came at Brienne's expense. And thus, it kind of cheapened their entire relationship, made him knighting her two episodes ago and even so far back as when he got his hand cut off for her (which, come to think of it...), makes her nothing but a plot device for his character growth. She showed him how to open up and look, now he can face his sister (my theory is he's going to be the one to kill her, but y'know, whatevs). I mean, it reduced her to his manic-pixie-Big-Girl-with-a-Sword (or manic-pixie-dream-knight? I dunno, but, doubtless, you understand my point). So in the greater context of the show and how shittily it handles its ladies, it just was beyond frustrating and eye-roll-ee (and especially when considering how bad that specific episode was for those ladies, too, ugh).

So yeah, this is something worth talking about. But the above article, for one, doesn't really address these problems and turns it into more of a joke, and anyway, saying we "need" to is still a stretch for me.

Another bit from that episode, and this time, the article at least approaches it from a more analytical lense, as opposed to just comical. 

We Need To Talk About What Sansa Stark Said About Her Trauma On "Game Of Thrones"

As a survivor, especially, this was a really... emotional... bit to watch. I think, like one of the Twitter posts showed in that article, what happened was this:

The writers meant to convey something like, "Yeah, my trauma was pretty shitty, and I certainly wish it had never happened, and wouldn't wish it on my worst enemies. But I've grown past it, used it, and by getting through it, I realized how strong I've been all along. It will always hurt, but at least I can say I lived through it and came out swinging." 

But it came across as, "If I hadn't been raped, I would have stayed an immature prat, so thank goodness for Ramsey!"

Basically, the implication because of the word choice was that, had it not been for her trauma, she never would have matured at all. Which is garbage. But as a survivor, I know for a fact that saying trauma like that contributed to who we are today is a common thing for us- I would never say I was grateful for it, or that I wouldn't have matured or evolved as a person without it. It's a PART of me, but it doesn't DEFINE me. And even if I hadn't experienced that trauma, I still would have evoloved as a human fucking being.

So yeah, I get what they were trying to do, but just, dude, so, so much no. Sorry, D&D, but it has never been more obvious that women don't write your scripts than this episode. And yeah, it thus means that again, they're using that super-tired trope of sexual assault as character development for women. 

Le sigh.

Swing and a miss, bros. 

IT IS NOW SAFE TO CONTINUE

Those GoT things are some of them- here are examples of other articles that are at least about issues worth discussing (more spoilers in these articles, no doubt):

We Need to Talk About How Game of Thrones Treats the Dothraki

We Need to Talk About the Sexist Garbage in 'Octopath Traveler'

We Need to Talk About the Game of Thrones Race Problem

[SPOILER WARNING] We need to talk about the Avengers: Endgame finale

‘Avengers: Endgame’ – We Need to Talk About This Black Widow Situation

What I'm saying is, these are perfectly reasonable things to want to discuss. I think we should, given the range and reach of those two main franchises in those articles. And I have to wonder how I would feel about the "We Need to" part of the headline (at least for Sansa) if I hadn't been inundated with declarations of needing to talk about fucking dresses and hairstyles and music videos, etc. 

Call me a cranky old crone, fine, but don't you dare accuse me of not caring about "isms" in pop culture. This is my blog, so I'll bitch if I want to, and said blog is ripe with critiques of pop culture through various lenses, usually those of feminism, race, and/or disability. Like, so much of it that I'm not going to even bother linking to any of my past articles. Seriously. just scroll back for a while, or read a few of the posts featured as "most popular" on the side (it's kind of obvious from their titles which ones count). So yeah, I'll be the first to call out something as problematic, as sexist, as racist, as ableist, as classist- as whateverist.

But I never claim that my critiques need to be viewed by anybody. I would never presume to title one of those posts in a way that makes the situation sound life-or-death the way this "We Need to Talk About..." stuff goes.

I guess what I'm saying is that since "We Need to Talk About..." gets used in such UNimportant matters, instances where I actually do care about pop culture seem less deserving of the phrase itself. And discussing pop culture or allegories isn't quite as impactful as real events. It can be a platform for starting a discussion about the real world, but that's not quite the same thing.

Even titles like Let’s Talk About Avengers: Endgame’s Big Moment of Pandering/Female Empowerment, Depending on Your View  or LET’S TALK ABOUT AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR’S RACE PROBLEM are too close to the "We Need to Talk About..." type nowadays for me to not get a little grumpy. Probably because yeah, I'm just so inundated with useless crap about clothes and gossip that I've been tainted. 

It gets less frustrating for articles like these:

It’s time to talk about being white in America

Amanda Zhang: We need to talk about sexism in tennis

On Steve, Julius and the Christchurch murders: Why we need to talk about hate speech

We need to talk about death: I was not prepared for how lonely grief would be

We have to talk more about suicide. Even if it means I have to run a 5K.

Because the racism being discussed in these articles is in the real world, is actually happening, and leads to hate speech, as referenced, and yes, hate crimes. The sexism in the tennis community is tangible, is negatively affecting women in tennis every day. Grief is a real thing most of us have to encounter at some point in our lives, and no, we really don't talk about it enough. Suicide is real. It happens. 

But some things about which I would definitively say, "Yes, we need to talk about this," are:

Flint, Michigan

The vast numbers of indigenous women and girls that have gone missing in North America

The Homelessness Crisis

How over 20% of the children in the US live below the poverty line

Climate change, bruh

So, overall: I'm sick of seeing, "We Need to Talk About..." in article titles. This doesn't mean I think none of the stuff these articles are about is of value- social critique, be it of society itself or the consumable pieces of it that get spewed out, is really the only way society as a whole will progress. Citing and critiquing hegemonic discourses in pop culture can make people more atuned to their existence IRL- this is something I fundamentally believe and is fucking why I rant so much about how stuff is "problematic" and why I can't have nice things.

But unless I see that it's about clean water or saving the planet, I'm most likely not going to read an article with, "We Need to Talk About..." in its headline nowadays. And I really wish that phrasing would stop being so overused. I said above that it comes across as irresponsible on the part of journalists. I said this because it creates a numbing, false sense of urgency about some inconsequential piece of, essentially, gossip, while people are starving, the planet is dying, and Flint still doesn't have clean water. And so fucking what if they're entertainment blogs? It doesn't matter. They're still acting like the most important article you'll read that day is the one about Bae's lipstick. And that just makes me do this

The Eeyore and the Piglet

Content Warning: I open up about my own mental illnesses, including suicidal ideation 

Introduction

My main vessel for libations (of the non-adult variety) at home has been a really great Eeyore mug I got in I want to say high school or college from the Disney Store. It's yellow-orange, and features a cute picture of Eeyore smiling, surrounded by white flowers. I had two of them, and as far as I'm aware, my mom still has the purple one, in the same shape, with the same gloss, but a different picture of Eeyore, at her house, and I use it when I visit. I'm using said yellow-orange mug as I write this, having just snacked on a bunch of Cheez-Its (extra toasty, of course) and in need of some hydration.

Eeyore and Piglet were always tied for first place in my heart in the Winnie the Pooh Pantheon when I was a kid. And while I know it's been proven that A.A. Milne didn't intentionally write these characters (and all the others) as having mental illnesses, as I got older, I realized I liked, no, cared for these two specific ones so much because I would see them struggle- watch Eeyore try so hard to be happy, watch Piglet worry and obsess over the multitude of possibilities due to a single decision or occurrence; I would see this, and think, to put it in modern terms,

"It me."

Seeing what looked like depression in Eeyore and anxiety in Piglet was sometimes hard, sometimes cathartic, but always real for me. I didn't know what these things were until I was older, and it wasn't until three years ago I was officially diagnosed with either, but I think I've felt this way my whole life, or at least once I was past the bobbing toddler phase.

(And before I stray too far from Winnie the Pooh, I want to reiterate that yes, I get that Milne didn't mean to depict a bunch of DSM-certified stuff in his characters. BUT. I also want to emphasize that if you ever want to find out how to be close to someone with any of the various disorders that can be seen in the characters, just read the books or watch any of the series or movies, because everyone is always supportive, accepting, understanding, and unquestioning of the others' worth in the world of Winnie the Pooh, in any incarnation. When I have kids someday, they're going to be one of the staples in our household in order to teach kindness and love.)

Part One: The Eeyore In Me, Otherwise Known As Depression

A friend of mine posted a link about chronic suicidal ideation yesterday, and it spoke to me, too. I don't think my feelings are quite as "strong" (in the sense as persistent) as that of the author, but I do remember when they were, not too long ago. For a long time, I would waffle around from actively wishing it would end to thinking it would be easier to quit to wondering what the point was to thinking everyone around me would be better off if I was out of the way. Thinking of this last one in the opposite direction, much like the author in that piece above, was what always brought me back from the darkest times, the times I came closest to acting on anything.

I haven't felt that way consistently in a few years. But I see myself falling closer to where I was when it started, sometimes feeling the lesser extent of all of it for a little, and it frightens me somewhat. I have a plan, but can't act on it because of work stuff  (therapy requires, y'know, time in an office, and I have no way to consistently have that, but I have a PCP that can prescribe meds, at the very least). But before I continue here, if you're someone that knows me personally, know I'm okay and not in any danger, just like that author. I have a good support network, both near and far, and it isn't my person I'm frightened for, but rather my heart and habits, my general emotional well-being and overall state of mind. I'm frightened because I thought I had moved past those feelings, and I see myself getting closer to them on a consistent basis again.

Right now, I have a lot to be grateful for, reasons to be "happy." I have a roof over my head, an amazing boyfriend that loves me better than I ever thought I deserved, two awesome cats, tons of board games, internet, food, transportation, the aforementioned support network, a stable job (and another one that while it's retail and the schedule changes, I feel as loved and supported by everyone there as if I was family, and I'm not exaggerating- I genuinely tell my boss, "I love you," as we hug goodbye every time (if she doesn't say it first)), and I'm in a program that will get me into the disability field in one of the most on-the-ground ways, as a special ed teacher.

That doesn't mean it's easy. Honestly, I don't think my life is more stressful than average. But I struggle. I can't play a friggin' card game without bursting into tears on a bad day (true story; in response, that great boyfriend checked in with me and when I said, "I'm just having a hard time just being happy," he didn't miss a beat. He's good like that, and I'm lucky like that). I have to actively fight against crying every waking moment some days, because it hurts so much.

Some days, I can hold it in, keep it together, and if I'm lucky, I'll feel a little better the next day- enough that it isn't so hard, at least. But others, it goes more like this:

Thank you, Nathan Pile, for making such
delightful comics. 

Seriously, raise your hand if ever you've been on the struggle bus all day and keeping your cool, when something as innocuous as your gorram pen falls out of your hand and rolls under the fridge and you start ugly-crying so hard someone would think your cat died. I have days like that. Lots.

But that's not the whole of it. See, what I think gets missed a lot in talks about depression is also just that straight inability to enjoy things, especially things that normally would bring joy. It isn't always feelings of sadness or pain, but more like a lack of feeling that goes beyond neutrality. An active hole inside, a vortex you can on some level perceive sucking your emotions out. It can lead to a sort of indifference, a "whatever" feeling, inability to give a damn about anything. A weird, not-quite-passive indifference to everything. (And I think what happens to some of us is this indifference to the things around us can lead to indifference to life itself, and the aforementioned suicidal thoughts.)

There are days where I feel like a ghost, like I'm made of air and mist and could walk through the wall or float through the floor downstairs to the parking lot of my second-story apartment. And not in some fancy, magical, "I'm lighter than aaaaaair!" way. No, as in I feel insubstantial, and that's about as much as I can "feel" at all. I go through whatever motions need going through, if there are any, but those are the days I'm most likely to binge a whole season of something on Netflix if I don't have to work; if there's anything else I should be doing (laundry, grocery shopping, calling my mom or a friend I've been playing phone tag with), it ain't happenin'. 

And let me reiterate: It isn't like it actively hurts on days like this. I'm not on the verge of tears at all- the opposite, really. In fact, even though I'm pretty prone to crying on the regular, days like this, stuff that would normally get the waterworks going (like a poignant moment in the show I'm binging) don't do more than maybe make my eyes get a little hot. And dude, I'm The Gal That Cries. I am. But on days like these (I've come to call them, aptly, my "ghost days," in my headcanon about my life), I pretty much can't. 

This is my reality.

Part Two: The Piglet In Me, Otherwise Known as Anxiety

Misconception: "Having anxiety means you worry about literally everything." While it's true, some people can have anxiety that is severe enough that yes, it fits this description and thus becomes debilitating, not every case looks like that. Let me explain, with an example.

I always have to have at least six tubes of Burt's Bees beeswax lip balm in my possession, while not necessarily on my person, at a given time. I keep one in my car, one in my purse, one beside the bed, one in the living room by my usual seat on the couch/somewhere easily accessed in the living room, one for sticking in my pocket for during work, and a "spare" I keep on my dresser for "emergencies" (I honestly call it my "emergency" tube). That way, no matter where I am, I will always, always be able to whip out a tube of B'sBs and soothe my aching lips. Just the thought of needing one and not having access to one makes my heartbeat go up, it genuinely makes me nervous. While I recently switched to B'sBs about two years ago, before that it was mint Chapstick; and before that it was C.O. Bigelow's Rose Salve; and before that it was Carmex; and before that it was REGULAR Chapstick... It's something I did my best to hide from my parents, and granted, when I was a kid and didn't own my living space, I had fewer visible at a given time, but there was always something in my backpack, on my headboard, in the duffel bag I kept my Barbies in, in my desk at school (when I had a desk), and a floater I would put in my lunchbox (when I had one). I'd steal them from my dad, save change from when I was given money to do something with friends, even use birthday or Christmas money from relatives to buy them for myself without my parents knowing. I knew it was weird all along, but I was in Las Vegas, where it was reeeeeeeeeally dry, and so I needed something, right? 

And while this may sound a little obsessive-compulsive, it's the closest I've ever been, so it's not that. I keep so many tubes/pots/whatever around because I'm afraid of my lips hurting too much. I don't have a bunch of tubes because I need a specific one for a specific place or something, it's purely for the "preparedness" angle. I want to be prepared so I can avoid my lips getting too dry. I have a high tolerance for pain, usually, but my lips are the one part of my body I don't tolerate it and actively try to prevent it by having such a huge arsenal. I pretty much always have a headache, and I don't take anything for it until I reach a certain threshold; but the moment my lips start to tingle, I'm all about that lip balm.

This is the most extreme-on-paper example I have. Writing about it, I feel kind of nuts. But I've figured out how to not worry about my lips: just have a shit-ton of lip balm lying around and fuggedduboudit. 

I have my own social anxieties, but I wouldn't say I have "social anxiety" in the way you're thinking. I'm fine meeting new people, provided I have some context or reason to; I freak out over things, with people I already know, like, "What if I picked the wrong restaurant?" "What if he doesn't really think I'm beautiful?" "What if she's only laughing because she feels sorry for me?" "Does he/she hate me?" I worry about upsetting people, being misunderstood, seeming clingy, seeming aloof, sounding dumb, sounding elitist...

A lot of it comes down to "I just want errbody to like me." With the people I'm closest to, like aforementioned Awesome Boyfriend, I'm terrified of doing something to change how they feel about me. On our first date, over two years ago now, I was more at ease talking to him than I am some nights in our apartment. It's almost like a reverse-typical-social-anxiety thing: The more I know you/you know me, the more worried I am about what you think of me, how I come across, etc. 

And of course, I worry about things, too. From how shitty other drivers are (somewhat reasonable) to how evenly I chop an onion (pretty unreasonable), I can get caught up in fretting and stressing over things that are part of a regular person's life. 

Like right now, Awesome Boyfriend has confirmation a package was delivered to the leasing office like ten minutes after I left it, and we have a package slip from our mailbox from earlier that day saying said leasing office should have it (it didn't when I went). He's not worried about it, but who has two thumbs and is terrified the board games he ordered are lost/stolen/etc?

And there's a part of me that knows it's probably fine, that it's safe in the leasing office and it'll be there in the morning when Awesome Boyfriend goes to retrieve it. But I. Can't. Help. It.

But I'm sitting here now, writing this thing. I made dinner (frozen burritos, but still, I fuckin' ate, aight?), I'll go to bed soon, and I probably won't have any more problems sleeping than usual. So it's not debilitating, and so no, I wouldn't say I have severe anxiety, but I have enough of it that ridiculous stuff like if the super old Forever stamps I have are still good, nevermind the whole "Forever" part, makes my stomach plummet to my ankles.

This is also my life.

Part Three: So What?

This doesn't mean I'm "miserable" in the sense that I don't ever experience happiness or joy. I've ruminated on what "happiness" means to me before. I still believe it, that happiness isn't a constant, and sometimes we have to make our own joy, seek out and find ways to experience happiness, since it won't last on its own. So I try. So fucking hard sometimes. And there are days where I've tried hard enough that it worked, I sort of made myself believe it, if you will.

I'm not saying I think depression can be "overcome" with the "right state of mind" or some ableist bullshit like that. Fuck your walks through the woods and your yoga.

What I mean is that, sometimes, I can find some light in the dark, and that's worth living for, too. 

As uncomfortable as my life may be sometimes, it's still my life, and I'm going to keep on living it, to the best of my ability.

"The things that make me different are the things that make me me." Quoth Piglet.

Fin.

"Not Like That"- A Compendium of Thoughts on That Thing That Happened

I'm going to keep updating this as new info comes out, so if you're someone that gives a damn, maybe check back in a couple days. But I'm going to just sort of spat thoughts on the thing with the Catholic kids and the Native American elder. So there's no thesis or main point, here, just venting. I've been festering over this, and reached the point where the zit needs to be popped.

This article by Indian Country Today is a good compilation of videos encompassing the whole thing. The super long one, the one by those guys who identify themselves as Hebrew Israelites, hasn't really been given enough attention, and I want to start there- makes sense, chronologically, but also because what these guys were doing was pretty awful, too, and the reason all this shit went down to begin with.

So these assholes showed up to the Indigenous People's March, to protest it, apparently. And they were shouting all sorts of racist, disparaging things at the people marching. If you listen to the beginning of their (again, long) video, you hear them yelling at the Native Americans about how they knew Native history better than the Native Americans do- there's some garbage about how "before Natives worshipped totem poles," they had worshipped "the true God," or something like that. And that because of this "idol worship," their "land was taken from them."

I have to say, it's pretty vile to protest against indigenous people marching peacefully. Like, what are you really protesting to begin with? I guess, based on the shit they were saying, it was to "save" them? But, as people try to talk to them, they're entirely uninterested in dialogue and just talk over them, being super rude every time. If they were there from a place of genuine love and compassion, they would want to talk. No, they were there to pontificate, not to really help anyone or save any souls.

Something that confuses me: at 38:18ish, the guy with the phone starts mocking one of the students for wearing a MAGA hat to a Native American protest- and like, what? You've been standing here, telling Native Americans it's their own fault they're the victims of genocide, and now you're going to "call out" a white kid for being disrespectful? I mean, the thing is, within the first two minutes minute, they completely dismiss/talk over one of the Native Americans that is... wait for it... trying to point out that they're being disrespectful. I mean, seriously, I don't think the dude is able to finish a full phrase because the guy in the Hebrew Israelite group wouldn't shut the fuck up. So like, who the actual fuck are you to care about respect for the Indigenous march? "I'm just here to tell you what you have to do," he says to the Indigenous man. I guess the boarding schools didn't try hard enough.

Point there is, these guys are hypocrites. And they incited the whole thing, and their part in it hasn't been explored enough, as far as I can se.

(At about five minutes, a Black woman who has been visible for pretty much the whole video starts trying to talk to them and they say shit like, "Where's your husband?" as if to say he shouldn't have to listen to her because she's a woman- so like, dude, obviously these guys prescribe to some pretty regressive shit.)

Because after they mock that first kid, they go all-in at mocking the whole crowd of teenage boys. Sure, it's true the Catholic church has done some deplorable shit, but they're fucking teenage boys for crying out loud- if these Hebrew Israelites are half as smart as they think they are, they should have known that asking if they have "one nigga" in the group and calling them stuff like "dusty crackers" was going to create a huge kerfuffle- honestly, if Phillips hadn't stepped in, there would have probably been a riot (and I strongly suspect they were hoping the rich white kids would get physical with them, based on how they kept going). 

Which is exactly why he did what he did. He says he saw something about to happen and wanted to pray, to calm things down. No, he didn't realize how bad it was until he was in the thick of it, but dude, that's the point. It was that bad.

So then you have those shorter videos in the ICT article, and you see the progression of the behavior of the boys. For starters, it's clear there's space between Phillips and the boys, a space that gradually gets tighter and tighter, with fewer and fewer of the boys on the stairs- indicating the whole crowd was swarming Phillips and his fellow indigenous singers. Some of the boys do mock-Indigenous dances (apparently, some were attempts at the haka, according to Al Jazeera), the whole crowd engages in a mock-chant (more on that later), and there's this Nick Sandmann asswipe.

I first found out his name reading this NYT article, and it led me to his statement. And that. Oh, that. This kid is full of shit. In the first of the shorter videos from ICT, he isn't even visible- which means he deliberately positioned himself in front of Philips. In other words, in order to appear so close, had to push past his classmates. So duh, he was the one "invading personal space." And there's no reason to get that close to someone except in an attempt at intimidation.  As for that ridiculous smirk he had pretty much the whole time, it was obviously one of mockery, the same smirk guys in fake warpaint and war bonnets wear when confronted by indigenous people outside the stadiums where the Braves and Redsk*ns play. His statement is nothing but lies, passive-aggression, narcissism, and backpedaling. I suppose Trump would be proud.

I don't believe the diocese when they say they'll do anything. I just don't. The Catholic church was an active participant in the cultural genocide practiced against indigenous people on this continent up until the 1980s. I've mentioned before that my great uncle was beaten so badly by a priest for speaking Lakota at boarding school that he went to the hospital- what I didn't mention then, was it was a Catholic priest. Stewart Indian School, the last boarding school in the U.S. to stop operating as such (in 1980), was a Catholic school. If they continually sweep molestation under the rug, why would they care if some rowdy teenagers were rude to a Native American elder? I'll believe it when I see it, but for now, I don't.

Also, about that mock-chant in the videos ICT included in that article. It's the same one you hear at, like, Braves and Redsk*n games, or in the scene where they do "the chop" in Robin Hood: Men in Tights. Some even do the hand motion. (I feel like it's in Major League or one of the sequels, too, but this was easier to find, so here's the one from Men in Tights.)

So I don't see how anybody can still get away with saying they weren't mocking- then again, look at what our president gets away with every gorram day?

(As an aside, I'm pretty disappointed with that NYT piece- it's basically pulling an "on all sides" in its reporting, and it's pretty offensive they'd give credence to the claims that the indigenous people were somehow the aggressors, here.)

And yeah, the guy that calls Phillips "Grandpa" shouldn't have engaged with that teenager, but I get why he did it- he was angry, and hurting, and the kid was obviously painfully ignorant (or one of "those" debators, the kind that studies Schopenhauer's ways to win an argument)- whether or not indigenous people crossed a land bridge from Asia is entirely irrelevant to the fact that our lands were stolen from us and his ancestors committed genocide to do it. Aside from that, though, it's pretty clear that, despite the picture Sandmann and supporters are trying to paint, the indigenous people were the only ones that weren't being assholes. 

It's just heartbreaking to watch Phillips at the end, shouting, "RELATIVES! RELATIVES!" and watch as nobody gives a shit. It reminds me of another great uncle, one that taught me about humility and forgiveness. He was a lobbyist for Indian Country, and I remember a conversation we had when I was around thirteen. It went something like this:

"Uncle Gerald, how can you be so kind to these guys that are making laws that hurt our people?"

"Because without grace, we're no better than them."

"But why forgive them? It's not like they've really done anything to make things right."

"Forgiveness isn't for them, it's for us. If we don't forgive, we carry hate in our hearts, and again, that would make us no better than them. We have to forgive and move on, and hope that eventually they'll listen and help us. With, of course, some forceful convincing on our part." [wink]

[He then taught me the Serenity Prayer.]

After all the mockery and meanness, Phillips says, "Yeah, let's make America great! Let's do that!" In earnest. Not sarcastically, not to be funny. In earnest.

One of the kids shouts, "How?"

And the guy that had called Phillips "Grandpa" says, "Not like that!"

And that's kind of perfect.

Nothing is going to get better if all this hate continues. And the kind of bullshit these kids (and those assholes that antagonized them to begin with) were acting out is just making it worse. And I wish I could talk to my Uncle Gerald about how to deal with these zealots- these MAGA-wearing, Trump-loving bigots. Because I strain and twist myself, trying to be compassionate and open like he taught me. But it gets harder all the time. And in the face of stuff like this? I just can't. And I wish I could ask him what to do.  He's gone, so I can't, and that hurts about as much as everything else right now.

And another thing that makes this so painful is the shit Phillips and his companions were dealing with? It's more like an everyday occurrence. I'm glad this one is getting attention, but what I need you to understand, reader, is that this kind of shit happens every day to indigenous people. And to people of color now that Trump is in office. And it's not just elders. It happens to kids at school. Trump gets quoted by fucking teachers being racist to their students. 

And yet, snotty little brats like Sandmann go unchecked when they play the victim. Major news outlets like the New York Times don't call him and his ilk on their bullshit.

And what that does, is it silences us. Those of us whose identities are being attacked. Whose very personhood is being called into question. How can we stand up for ourselves if lies about us, about what these people are doing to us, go unquestioned? If when we call for peace, we're depicted as the villain? If when we try to reach out, we're mocked and ridiculed, then turned into the scapegoat and have angry fingers pointed in our direction? So we remain silent. Because you can't reason with irrationality and delusion.

It reminds me of a quote from retired Senator Barney Frank: "On what planet do you spend most of your time? Having a conversation with you would be like trying to argue with a dining room table."

It's impossible. So I don't have any answers. I don't know what to do. 

I guess I'll just pray to my totem poles that things will get better somehow.