| | Life is a series of compromises we make that sacrifices our
desire merely in order to survive.
Constitution is the ability to survive in a state of constant
warfare. I am finding that perhaps the
reason we (collectively) call it a “struggle” is because it is indeed that, a
struggle. Look at my current
position. I work a near-minimum wage
job, part time, in one of the most heavily-trafficked suburbs in St. Louis county. Gas is outrageously expensive, and tainted
with the blood of innocent Middle Easterners.
In the world that I dream about and strive for, there would be no crappy
jobs 30 miles away from the inner city. There
wouldn’t even be any suburbs, and there sure wouldn’t be any oppressive system
of control, such as the oil industry.
Yet my poverty, my victimization resulting from that very oppressive
system, affords me no choice but to partake in such a vile and corrupt
system. At least that’s what makes me a
different anarchist than the one sleeping in the MetroLink tunnel. If it were up to me I would probably
completely withdraw from this system, and go home to Africa
and live amongst my true people and smoke all day. But I realize there’s work to be done, and I
will never truly be free as long as the rest of my people are still in chains. J. Ivy once profoundly stated, “It’s true I
may need my loot by rent day, but that ain’t what gives me the heart of Kunte
Kinte.” We press on because we really
have no other choice. We tone down our
notions of revolution so that we can help empower more people like us. We fight the power, all the while realizing
that the power controls the fight. May
we one day have the strength to bite off the hand that feeds us, and liberate
ourselves from tyranny and the state.
Isn't it interesting how 99% of all of our insecurities can be traced back to problems with our parents as children? All my life my relationship with my mother has been built on deception. She has never, ever, accepted me for the person I am. While she loves me like a mother loves her child, an honest look at our relationship reveals her lack of respect for me as a person. I've been realizing this as the days go by since she kicked me out her house about a month ago. I classify my mother along with a generation that has by-and-large turned their back on my generation. I understand that we're messed up, that our priorities and values are wrong. But don't look down on us with contempt. Don't forget that it was your social responsibility to raise us properly (which you failed to do), and it was also your mistakes and failures that led to our degradation (i.e. AIDS, gang violence, and crack). My mother used to smoke and drink (all my aunts and uncles did, many still do). She wasn't married when Donielle was born. Even if she nows views those things as mistakes, you'd think she'd at least understand where other people are coming from. But she goes around telling her friends that I'm a thug and a criminal. In retrospect, I realize that the only times we've ever gotten along where when I've done things to her enjoyment, which is usually contradictory to my own values. Growing up was mental and physical torture under her house. She used to call me a "lazy bitch" and a "fat fuck" as a child, because I was heavier than most. When I was 13 I went to El Salvador and lost 25 pounds in three weeks (at age 13!!!). When I was in high school I began wrestling and my mother told people I was bulimic. I became obsessed about my weight, a major insecurity that still tortures me daily. I don't like talking about it, so I probably won't answer any questions you ask me. Don't be offended, it's just one of my own demons. Anyone who knew me as a child knew I grew up rebelling against my parents. Since then, I feel like I have spent so much time trying to make my parents proud (I'm not even gonna get started on my dad, I might just start drinking myself stupid). But why can't they, or why WON'T they accept me for who I am as their son, an individual with a different perspective? I'm tired of the superficialness and the lies. Being kicked out a month ago was one of the most liberating things I could have felt at the time, yet I still feel trapped mentally. What can I do, where can I go, to flee this bondage?
If I could get over that hump, then maybe I will feel better...
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| | Posted 4/26/2008 3:44 AM - 300 Views - 4 eProps - 2 comments
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