Dear Ben Carson: Who's a Homophobe if You're Not One?

I stirred up a lot of controversy with my post Speaking the Truth in Love, about those who deny their bigotry while insisting that the LGBT community should have fewer rights than everyone else. In it, I assert that people believe

• "that it's not possible for "nice" people to be bigoted..." but "if you believe that discriminating against people based on their presence in any minority group is okay, particularly if you believe that solely because you cannot imagine the world otherwise, you are a bigot....the honest thing to do here is for you to acknowledge that your position is prejudiced. The honest reaction is that you prefer to be prejudiced and accept the label of bigot/homophobe."

So I'm calling Dr. Ben Carson out as a homophobe and asking him -

Who is a homophobe, if you are not? What is homophobia, if you personally do not espouse it? Is the only way to be a homophobe to actively physically assault members of the LGBT community? Or to support imprisoning them/killing them? 

Don't believe me that he is a bigot? Read this and tell me if he could be otherwise:

• “Obviously you don’t understand my views on homosexuality. I believe our Constitution protects everybody regardless of their sexual orientation or any other aspect. I also believe marriage is between one man and one woman. There is no reason you can’t be perfectly fair to the gay community.” 
• “They shouldn’t automatically assume that because you believe that marriage is between one man and one woman that you are a homophobe. This is one of the myths that the left perpetrates on our society and this is how they frighten people and get people to shut up. That’s what the P.C. culture is all about and it’s destroying this nation.”
• Also, Carson signed the National Organization for Marriage’s presidential pledge, which demands support for a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage, the reversal of any policy that recognizes same-sex couple’s marriages, 

• and the end to any nondiscrimination protections for LGBT people. 

(this is all cited from a Think Progress article about Ben Carson's views of non-straight sexual orientations). 

Advocating the removal of rights from gay people via creative legislation is bigotry, especially now that the Supreme Court has ruled. Believing that people should be fired solely for being (or even just seeming) gay is bigotry. Believing that people should be denied housing simply for being gay is bigotry.

As I have already said, I don't hate bigots, but I do have a problem with the bigoted lifestyle.

And I don't think bigots should get to represent or lead groups they are trying to hurt.

Statement about Spring Valley High

Unusual concision from me:

Society just taught a room full of students that violence brings power and is the way to get what they want.

Society just taught them that it's okay to hurt people when people do something they don't like.

Online commentary has been justifying violence against women for minor offenses, so we're teaching women that future violence against them is their fault, they deserve it, and they shouldn't report it to the police, because the police will also hurt them.

That is the message this incident sends.

Confessions: Why I'm Literally a Lipstick Lesbian Right Now

The word literally is overused in English. I use it with care here, as the direct opposite of the word figuratively, and as taking in the real sense something that often is symbolic.

That is, the idea of the "lipstick lesbian." Also known as a femme, doe, or the more feminine person in a same-sex relationship. I've written on this before, a lot.

Lately, I've actually been wearing lipstick with some regularity, not to seem more attractive.

Nope.

I'm a little ashamed to admit that I have a lip-biting habit, especially when it starts to get dry outside during Michigan fall and winter. Sometimes I will bite the dead skin so hard that it's raw. I need to stop, and one of the best ways to do that is to apply lipstick. It doesn't make me want to stop biting my lips, but it makes me more worried about getting lipstick on my teeth than whatever else I was fussing over. And getting a good lipstick application in means keeping lips exfoliated and moisturized, which for some reason I'm more willing to do for aesthetic reasons than comfort ones.

So, given that this is a lifestyle blog, here are some products I've started using in this journey to break the habit:

Trader Joe's peppermint lip balm - dirt cheap, very moisturizing
Tarte Ritzy lipsurgence - a coral-colored lipstick that for me is a little peachier than my natural lip color, but not so much that I feel weird about it. It stays put pretty well,
Tarte Glamorous lipsurgence - a raspberry lipstick that again, is a little darker and more purple than my natural color, but not too much

Me, wearing Tarte Glamorous and enjoying our balcony for what I hope what won't be the last time this season

Tarte lip exfoliant - helps me keep that dry skin at bay and gets a more even color

Luxury of Believing We Couldn't Lose my Brother

I thought, after my brother's death, that it wasn't preventable, that there was nothing we could do and nothing we could say, and nothing anyone could have done to save him. That it was his time. None of us thought that he would commit suicide. None of us truly, in our hearts, believed that it was possible that we could be living without him.

And I thought, no family could possibly anticipate this. No family could anticipate that their son would be dead. No one could possibly live in fear of that and go on, given what I know about how awful it is to go on when something like that happens.

And then I read about Tamir Rice. About Sandra Bland. About Trayvon Martin. Mike Brown. Amber Monroe. About so many more. I read an article about a woman validating her right to be an "angry Black woman." And I read about African-American families instructing their  children how to behave with the police. How not to be pulled over, because if they are anything could happen and they could be anticipating a life without their children. I read about teaching these children, often so so much younger than my brother was, how to behave in this world that  treats them like they are not people, and I think, that 

these people do anticipate something awful happening. 

Even when it shouldn't, they live with one hand in the idea that something bad could happen. That they must take precautions. And even with those precautions, bad things keep happening, and they keep being blamed. The victims keep being blamed despite everything they have been doing to avoid this. And I think, my readers, my dear readers, how awful it must be to live in a situation where one anticipated that this might happen, aware that they may have to live without their brother, dear sister, their father, their best friends, their loved one, and they did what they could to prevent it, because they believed that it could happen, and they were not successful, and then the mainstream media, the White patriarchy blamed them. 

Whites maligned them, treated them like entertainment, like a news story, treated them like any sin they ever committed justified this death.

Whites watch them struggle to survive waking up every day into their worst nightmare and instead of doing something to stop one more family from having to live through this destruction, society makes it worse.

And I think, what a privilege that we never had to assume something bad might happen to him. What a privilege that in his death, one that might've been filled with rumors, or judgments, given some of the circumstances, everyone said lovely things about him and told us the wonderful stories and we were filled with the happy memories of his life, and every transgression ever attributed to him was set aside for that time. That should not be a privilege. I wish for us that we had believed we might really lose him. Maybe, now, I think that there is a reality somewhere where everything is different and a million tiny things added up means that he survived and thrived, but that if he didn't at least we would have hugged him a little more, called more often, treasured him more.

I wish for others, though, that the world would view the death as a tragedy. My brother's death may not have been preventable, but Trayvon Martin's and Mike Brown's, Sandra Bland's, Amber Monroe's, so many other's deaths were. Their families suffer untold pain on top of what I know. Every family that loses someone too early carries the pain, the emptiness, the loneliness that I know. And they suffer with the knowledge that there is a reality somewhere where everything is different and a million tiny things added up means that their loved one survived and thrived.

And this is why I call for improved gun policy, for better mental health care, for racial justice, an end to transphobia and homophobia. Because to me, it's not just a philosophical argument or a principle. It's not just a slight increase in my tax rate. It's life or death for many. It's joy or suffering for families not so different from mine. 

Accepting Imperfections, #househuntersdetroit style

We are supposed to have the final inspection done today. As we speak, an environmental quality scientist person is taking an air sample, and soon the inspector will check the plumbing.

The boiler was supposed to be checked today too, but the seller hasn't had the gas turned on, so we can't. And we already have enough concerns without turning on the boiler that we will probably have to ask for a concession of some kind.

We did this before, with the last house that most of you didn't know about. Nothing seemed organized, nothing stayed on schedule, our best faith efforts were ignored. This house feels different. 

I still miss the Florida room from the last house. It was incredibly peaceful and soothing, and I could imagine so much happening there. But this house, the whole house,

Feels filled with stories I don't know yet. 

I imagine we'll have so many family holidays in the dining room. I imagine our church small group in the living room. I dream of a workspace from a converted sleeping porch/sunroom so that I can write and draw and think.

(Picture above: living room fireplace. Below: upstairs sunroom/sleeping porch)

When I say that I am buying this house, it feels strange, because how can this belong to me? How can I own a tree, or a story, or any of this? I don't know how it can belong to me, but I belong here. 

MI Love: Greenacres - All the neighbors will stop by

I mentioned yesterday that we had a meeting with our contractor (Rufino Labra of Labra Design Build, who should really get his own MI Love post at some point, but for now you can visit his website to see his portfolio) to figure out if we can afford to fix the house.

I arrived to our house early and sat on the porch to wait for the realtor - and I decided to wave at cars as they drove past. Most waved back. Some called out hello. Rebecca laughed at me, but I'm pretty sure waving was the right thing to do.

We had a productive meeting; I love watching Fino's problem-solving process. We're still waiting on a couple items from the inspection, but we tentatively have a plan in place to get the house livable, though it will be a few years before it's restored to its former glory. (How long? Part of that depends how many of you volunteer to spend a few Saturdays helping with projects.)

And then our next door neighbor came home as we were leaving and stopped to chat; he said once we close and move in, all the neighbors will stop by to say hello. He acknowledged that high insurance prices are an issue and that there are other challenges, but he also said he wouldn't want to live anywhere else, and after every single visit to Greenacres, we can see why.

Now we have to close.

It takes a village: How my heart missed mine

I've read studies in the last few years suggesting that people living in villages, even with less wealth and development, are more content than many of us living in cities and suburbs. I'm not sure it's the case that the suburbs and cities themselves cause unhappiness, but I drive through both with some regularity, and I've noticed things.

I've noticed that keeping up with the Joneses doesn't seem to satisfy. I've noticed that students at expensive private schools aren't happier than ones at lower income ones. I've noticed that many of my families with a stay-at-home mom are still overwhelmed, even with modern technology and the delegation of many tasks and what seems to me to be a lot of financial resources.

And I've reflected on when I've been happy. When my life has felt full. It hasn't necessarily been when I've had enough of everything, but here are a few times:

When I lived in the dorms at MSU (yes, with my S Mason crew) and we played Settlers of Catan almost every night, including while we did laundry so the laundry hexxer wouldn't destroy our clothes.

When I volunteered at Cristo Rey Community Center every week, and the kids and staff there were like a second family.

When I started teaching at Oak Park Alternative with a childhood best friend and we got to have lunch together.

When I found out a friend who likes cooking challenges and adventures lived a mile and a half away and we started meeting up on the regular.

When we joined a church that gets involved, takes people in as family, and tries to meet daily needs.

When I'm at our new house, and the neighbors stop to introduce themselves, chat, tell stories, etc. (Also when I found out that they do neighborhood holiday caroling.)

And I think we can create our own villages. For me, walkability and proximity are really key. I don't do well staying at home, even when my home is comfortable and has everything I need. I love that the side door of our potential house comes into the kitchen, since it feels like that's where I usually am when I'm home. I want to do more than wave politely at my neighbors. I don't want to have to drive long distances to get out of a subdivision. I have a dream that if we ever have children, their friends will stop over often, and I will have piles of shoes in a variety of sizes by my door. Not everyone likes unplanned visits. But as I've mentioned before, I'm okay with people finding out that I'm not a perfect housekeeper. I've accepted that I'm not Martha Stewart. And I've also accepted that I need a village.