Why Was I So Angry? (Reflections on Springfield MO, Burnett and GO:61)

As the year begins to wind down, I'm looking back at what all has happened and drafting my end of the year post. A whole lot of crazy stuff has happened, for sure. A lot of people think I'm this raging activist and I swear I'm not. This year, however, I was angrier than I have ever been. Ever, in my whole life. And I'm still angry, it just burns deeper and makes coals that fuel what I do. Today, while time stood still in the waiting room from hell, I identified a core problem that has manifested itself in a thousand smaller problems. And one question I have never really answered was the one everyone asked: why are you so angry?

It wasn't ever about nipples. And for me personally, it was about so many things I had to really dig deep to puzzle it through. Today I had hours to kill today in a waiting room, so I finally had that kind of time. I mean, it wasn't blind rage, I had good reasons to be angry. But I had not taken my time to really work through the whole "tweets of fury" thing and analyze it to understand it thoroughly. This is only from the angle of why was I so angry. There will be "why were you so skeptical" and "why did you punch so hard" posts to come later that will tell it from those perspectives. Because this was only a tiny part of my problems with what went down in our local government and charities putting out unverified information. This is just about why I was so angry that it came off me in waves.

Ultimately, my rage comes back to this: I am furious because people want me to be afraid. On a small scale, I've been threatened this year alone with being raped into making sense, beaten into making sense, and being held against my will while someone coerced me into agreeing with them. On a bigger scale, the world wants me to be powerful but "ladylike" (a word whose definition changes from person to person so I'm encouraged to play it safe and not risk offending anyone), strong but not so strong I make anyone uncomfortable, and intelligent but not show up the wrong people by speaking my mind if I know better. I was supposed to sit in the back row, be quiet and courteous and if I played just right, maybe someone would listen to me if I followed all the subliminal cues and asked nicely.

Ain't nobody got time for that. And I found out the day my city voted against me as a full citizen and learned that Burnett was going to use this new tool to squash a legal protest, that I just gave my last fuck about what someone might think of me. I was going to say what I thought, and own the consequences. There came a point when I committed and decided I would rather go down fighting than stand by and do nothing. We were suddenly lesser people by our own city's law, and that could not go unchallenged. Women pay the same amount of taxes, but now we have to make sure we don't cause "affront or alarm" or we risked having our morals judged and sentenced on a whim. The fact that our rights were even being voted on was sickening to thousands of women who watched and hoped and were eventually let down. They literally created a fashion police to keep women obedient.

This understanding of trying to scare women into obedient submission is the root of a problem that has held us back for... well, since forever, since that conditioning starts in childhood. Then my city passed a law that said making people uncomfortable with my choices in dress was illegal. IF they decided to enforce it. The "if" was supposed to make "the right ones" feel better while "the bad women" had a lingering threat to keep them in line. Then Burnett recommended a half-baked charity that among its many claims stated that women could be ordered up like pizzas. Helpless women, stupid and needing rescued, those defenseless little things. Except they never produced a single woman who vouched for their service or the quality of help received. Still, women's credibility as capable beings took a ding while nearly everyone swallowed this load of bull without question. Though GO:61 has shown themselves to be cowards who consider questions like "how much money has been donated this year?" and "how much of that goes out in direct aid?" too aggressive. Well, no. I disagree. If someone is going to assert that 600 women are for sale like pizzas and that is double from the month before, that person had better be ready to show their math. They refused.

I had a good friend tell me when she spoke to her husband about discrimination she experiences, and he simply dismissed it with "no, you don't." That was it, subject closed. In his superior knowledge, he had the nerve to tell his life partner what her experiences are in a workplace he has never seen. Dismissed without a bit of thought about the possibility that she knew something he didn't about it. Because it was her own fucking story she was telling him, I'm just guessing she had some facts to impart. That kind of dismissal happens all the time. Each one hurts like hell. "I know something." "No, you don't. Go make me a sandwich." RInse and repeat and wonder why we get so emotional. More of that conditioning for you. And this was from a nice guy, I should mention. One of the good ones, so imagine what all the wives of average and subpar husbands deal with.

All of those things happened in a two week span. No. NO. Never, no, no fucking way.

I decided to fight back by refusing to give in. I am not afraid someone is going to scoop me up and take me away. I'm not afraid of some stupid flashing light on my cell phone and would never blame an innocent business for my hysteria. I refuse to be cowed and I will not back down. I'll call a bluff every time, because I have earned that right. I am competent, strong and a fully developed person in my own right. I don't owe the world my best outfit every day and a smile when I don't feel like it. I am held to the same standards as men, and therefore I demand the same rights. When my very own councilman tried to make me worry that my boobs might get me arrested, I had finally hit my limit. So I put it to the test.

I was (partly) right, too. The first thing that hit was a wall of intimidation. Threats by the gazillions flooded my Facebook inbox, where the bulk of this took place. Some came through my site, but the worst were always through Facebook. I didn't take it to heart, I just blocked them if they crossed crazy lines and went on. But I read every single one, because I feel obligated to read every word sent to me. It was hard as hell to not be afraid of that, especially when it was at its peak. But when I decided I wasn't going to be afraid and held it, they quickly ran out of ammo and faded away. And that was it. A flutter, a scream, and dead silence afterwards. Some tried to keep a banter going, but they were weeded out quickly.

So now I know what to do to combat the source of my rage. I'm going to wear whatever I want, say whatever I want, and I goddamn dare someone to try to stop me. Because if my mailbag had any themes in common, it was thanks for giving words to the ideas that many women were thinking, and secondly for standing up and saying "oh hell no." Women I've never met still write to me regularly, taking baby steps in standing up for themselves, and it all started with one little dipshit who can't understand the difference between scripture and law for all citizens of all types. After the ACLU is done with this, it will likely all be rolled back to how it was before. What will have changed is that there are new people paying attention to what goes on around here.

I guess I'll shut up and get back to it. When you find yourself waiting for hours, some people sleep and some people write the mother of all blog posts on their phones. But here's one that I feel I can answer and do it justice. This all happened so fast, and there were so many things I said I'd answer when I could take some time to do it right.

The "Journalism Style" Talk - Mission Statement

I have been spending a lot of time on Facebook, but I still post things over here (and will be doing even more soon!). I'm going to start parking several posts about my writing and online work for reference. For example, when I am about to write something I plan to link back to many times, like the cussing talk.  I have recently responded to many remarks about my style and my approach. I'm going to explain myself one more time, and try to say it all in one place. Not just for the people who are new to my feed, but for myself.

Let this suffice as my future mission statement and an explanation for why I write the way that I do.

I'm direct. I don't apologize, and I'm not going to start. It's how I am in real life, and it's going to be how I am online as well. There are enough perky blond fluffballs and serious old white men telling the news in the same polished tone of voice. I'm over it. I'm going to say it in my voice, and those who don't like it can simply tune in to a channel they prefer. I don't feel that it's my job to make information palatable or comfortable, and I'm relieved at how many responded positively to this. We're adults. Let's just fish out the facts first, then decide how we feel about them. When I write about my feelings - and I will - I will write it separately and make a point to better separate the two. My Facebook is where I write my thoughts. My articles are where I publish my findings. Those two have mingled poorly in the past when I have written about my thoughts and it be confused with my factual writing. This is one of many things I have noted and will correct.

I am not going to sugarcoat or sell anyone on what I do. Those who like it have stuck around, those who do not have moved on, and that's how it should be. I'm really happy to see how many have stuck around. I sorely miss some of those who have left, but I respect their decision.

Unlike the people I have been writing about lately, I want to point out that I work completely in public view. I don't hide what I do, and you are here to see every triumph and every mistake. I'm not trying to toot my own horn, but this is the thing I am most proud of, for The Bon Project and for myself. It takes all the nerve I can muster to work in front of friends and readers I don't want to disappoint and critics I can never please all at the same time, and I've done okay so far. It has kept me honest and diligent and I like that. I believe in transparency, period.  I'm proactively living up to my ideals by putting my future career on the line. I walk an unconventional path and I wouldn't have it any other way. I've been rewarded with a lot of trust and love, and smacked with a lot of criticism. I've listened to both very carefully and I implement aspects of both. I do not chase approval, but I can tell when I've rightly been called out and I do my best to take that to heart.

The people who don't like my methods regarding GO:61 have to at least admit I have taken full responsibility of my every action, which is something they cannot say. I was bold, I asked questions, then I demanded answers when nothing added up. I don't feel it's my job to make them comfortable for failing to provide information they are legally obligated to provide or operate in such a way that their purpose and results are clear. Those who disagree have said their piece and were not censored. Unlike councilman Justin Burnett, I have left the entire record stand on my Facebook feed for public scrutiny. I have taken ownership of my words, and I stand behind every single one. When I made a statement I provided the evidence or full train of logic for comment. I did my homework, and thanks to tips and public support I got many leads to check out. That was a first for me, and it changed everything.

As I'm rather fond of pointing out, I'm an acquired taste. I'm not for everyone. However, I do promise to be myself at all times. I have been myself all along, as my friends can attest. My rage is real, when I'm angry. My sadness is deeply felt, when I write about some of the things we want to pretend don't exist. My happiness is genuine when I get to report something that tells us the world is doing something right. I do not get paid for my coverage of local events. I pay out of pocket for all of my costs, including upcoming Sunshine Law requests. If I ever write for conventional press, my editor will have a lot of say in what I write and how. This may be the only time I may ever truly own my voice. I'm going to use it for the ideals I support, and I'm not going to try to sound like everyone else. I'm going to write millions of words in my life. I want to come back to here and remember these days, when I worked full-time and was in school, not sleeping because there was one more thing to look up. This was when I fell in love with what I do and decided to go about it my own way. The flirtation became the lifelong commitment. Journalism, I love you, even when you're an asshole or make me get up before sunrise on my day off.

On a serious note, I'm not going to always write what people want to hear. Or get to write what I want to say. Sometimes I have to write the truth even when it sucks, and the work isn't very fun. But I get so many messages from people saying thank you for researching an issue, or for giving them the words they wanted to frame their own thoughts, that makes it worth it every time. I keep them all, and when I need to read some comfort I bring out the praise. When I worry I may be going down a path I don't like, I read my criticism and remember how the people who don't appreciate my particular style view me. It helps me be aware of what I can do better, and I feel like I can focus more on getting it right.

I've learned SO MUCH during this process. I had a lot of help and folks who helped me think things through, and this has given me insight I can use for the rest of my life. No classroom could prepare a person for the things I've seen.  One story at a time, I am going to find issues that matter, that affect people, and I am going to stick with it until it's done. I enjoy the narrow focus that lets me really work best. Even if there is no conclusion to be made, I will at least fully prepare and publish my work and have thoroughly checked it out. That's my mission. When there is an issue that nobody else will cover or want to dive into, let that be my groundwork. Let me learn from these so I can complete my education and do a good job going forward. When this wraps up and I take on my next project, I have a long list of things to do to help me do this better. If I had to boil this down to one lesson, I'll say this experience has taught me to ask every single question no matter how simple it might seem.

The thing that makes me the person I am has to add a few conditions. God help the person I catch harming another, because I will not hold back. I will have no mercy for the cruel or the people who take advantage of the helpless or the gullible. I will look down every path, even when I don't want to, and record my findings objectively and thoroughly. Then I will ponder what I find. Then I'm going to say what I think about it, evenif I don't like where the investigation has taken me, and whatever heat I take is not going to stop me. I will do all of those things every single time. Those who choose to disagree with my analysis are welcome to do so, but I hope my fact finding and sharing of resources also shows my dedication by letting people look at my work and grade it. Whatever path this takes me down, I will go gratefully and happily.

If you can take an occasional jag of cat pictures and an occasional (and by occasional I mean frequent) F bombs, I hope we can have a good time here on social media while I write what I feel compelled to say. But if you can't, I understand, and I wish you well on your journey.

Dear Springfield City Council

I was at City Hall on September 8^th. What I heard was one side asking for permission (or demanding their "right") to discriminate, and another side asking for reasonable safety and protection from discrimination. Every citizen should be free of discrimination, but vulnerable populations need the assistance of government to ensure their safety. Some tried to say LGBT discrimination didn't exist. Surely none of you could have sat that meeting and believe such discrimination doesn't exist. You stared it in the face for hours.

Adding LGBT citizens to the list of those protected from discrimination doesn't force people to like them, sign off on their existence or allow them to be who they are. They exist already. They are who they are already. They simply depend on you to send the message that they must be given the same respect and consideration that is offered to every other citizen of Springfield. We don't all have to get along on a personal level, but everyone should expect to be treated fairly in matters of government, business and employment. You are using your power to set that minimum standard. I beg you to use your power wisely and in accordance with the Constitution, which protects our life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. One side's pursuit of happiness is to work and live in peace, the other side's objective is to protect the right to harm others.

These citizens are vulnerable because they are a minority. However, they pay taxes and deserve the service and representation of their government. They are not criminals, and therefore deserve freedom. They are only a small percentage of the population, yet over half of your speakers recognize their equality. Because we love them. Because I cannot imagine looking into my friend's faces and not saying I fought like hell for them, with everything I could muster. They would do it for me; I have no doubt. See, I'm not even gay. This isn't even my cause. I was just raised to be better than this. And right here in Springfield there are thousands of people like me, who aren't gay but love someone who is. We're watching. We're voting. And writers like me will make sure you are held publicly accountable for whether you decide to protect all your citizens or just the ones you deem worthy.

You represent Springfield. You can show that this is a city where people can expect to be treated fairly, or you can send the message that only approved citizens receive the full services of their government. Many have tried to muddy this discussion with shades and variables, but for you it is black or white. Yes or no. And you will have to say, with the entire city watching, are you for discrimination or are you against it?

An Important Talk About Vaccination, Scientific Principles And Mass Hysteria

Science hasn't told us what causes autism.  However, it told us without question that the vaccine myth wasn't real.  Secondary research brought up many questions.  This is peer review at its finest, serving its role in filtering out questionable results.  Other researchers were unable to reproduce his results, because they were not scientifically sound. Because one team published false results, there is a threat out there that we must examine with fresh eyes.  It is better to hold out for the right answer than to accept the wrong one out of fear or impatience.  By working together and circulating peer-reviewed knowledge instead of conspiracy theories that don't hold up to scrutiny, we can play our part in helping.  The scientific community can then battle the disease and stop taking time out to break it down for people who are unable or unwilling to do their own research.  Their job is to save the world, not boil it into a user-friendly diagram for public consumption.  We have an obligation to be savvy enough to interpret their findings and analyze them on our own.  That's why they taught you all that sciencey gobbledygook in school.

The media and people seeking fame have pandered to those who wanted to hear "you were right all along" and "here is secret knowledge that others don't have" because it gives people false empowerment when worried.  It tempts them to take the answer that's in front of them instead of risking it all to get the answer that holds up to testing and review by the world's most brilliant minds.  It is a seductive lie that promises everything and delivers nothing, because until a solution passes the scientific community's standards it cannot be implemented in medicine and used to improve lives.  The anti-vaccine movement  has misled millions.  There's nothing we can do about that except renew efforts to discover truth and facts that move us in the right direction.  Scientifically.  Not through John's Conspiracy Blog or Martha's Underground Information Center.  I've seen those emails.  They make me shudder.

"Science once told us the earth was flat," some people inevitably say as ass-backwards  justification for ignoring science (while telling you about how they are scientifically correct).  Not so.  People once told us the earth was flat because they wouldn't listen to scientific observation.  People once told us that sneezes were demons and that our planet was the center of the universe.  Science told us about why we sneeze, shown us the depth and measurable dimensions of our planet and its relation to the universe, and has explained the rules that govern how planets orbit their stars.  Science triumphs over man's false assumptions because one is law and the other is rumor.  It hurts our pride occasionally, but in the end we come out knowing the truth of how something works, and mankind benefits from that knowledge.  Galileo had an epic neener-neener moment that surely felt great, but don't underestimate the benefit to the generations who were able to take that knowledge and run with it, and not have to recreate the wheel every few decades.  That is the power of science and knowledge.

People test scientific principles in classes and labs every day.  That's how it should be.  That's the point, and when it weeds out a conclusion and the author admits he is a liar, that's a sure sign that we need to continue looking and not be hasty in declaring something as fact. This debacle is a cautionary tale that will haunt science for centuries.

Someday, if we get out of its way and listen to what it is trying to tell us, science will tell us the truth about how we can really lower the risk of autism and better treat the people who suffer from it.  The truth won't do us any good if it's lost in a hysterical babble of urban legends and invalid theories.

To believe an admitted liar over thousands of professionals whose livelihoods depend on their accuracy is insane.  Right now the denial and ignorance of some are hindering the scientific community's ability to confront and eventually diagnose the problem.  It's not like scientists won't continue to explore the possible links between autism and vaccinations, but since there are huge flaws in the theory let's not jump to conclusions and tell people the world is flat, thereby hindering the very people who are working to save us.

With billions of lives at stake, we can't afford to let ego and fear outweigh reasoning and knowledge.  If a person can't understand that the world is at risk from outbreaks and mutations of diseases we once all but eradicated, they are an enemy of the issue.  As we overcrowd and travel we have created the perfect storm for a global infection.  That should keep us awake at night, not fears based on a lie that fell apart upon examination.

Why We Should Care About What Happens To The Homeless When They Die

I posted this to my Facebook in response to a recent story "What Happens To The Homeless When They Die?"  I had several people contact me privately and tell me they too knew what it was like, and ask that I share this as much as possible.  My blog seems like a great place to start.

This article upset me because it reminds me how fast we forget those left behind.  We have homeless people in every city of modest size.  People judge them, spit on them, beat them, rob them, or never see them at all.  The fact that people don't know what happens to the homeless when they die shows how removed we are from their circumstances.

Without further ado, here is my Facebook post.  To read the original article that set me off, you can find it here.

When I was 18, I lived in my car for a good while because I had nowhere to go. It was cold and it was awful. Nights last forever when you aren't warm enough, and days are endless when your belly is empty. This experience forever changed my view of the world and the people in it. It's also why I take this story and others like it so seriously. Compared to some, I was still living a life of luxury because I had a car for shelter. But oh, what I would have given for some warm, dry socks.

I am sad beyond words that these people are being thrown away simply because they have nothing. Literally, without any caring or consideration, they are bagged up and disposed of with the same measures used for roadkill. Tell me this is a nation founded on Christian principles, and I'll tell you that you're full of shit. Otherwise, we wouldn't have megachurches with shopping mall lobbies and top notch recording equipment while people freeze to death or suffer from chronic malnutrition.

But the homeless were discarded long before they died. And that's the real problem, isn't it?

We see the homeless as they are right now, dirty, desperate, bitter or lost. We do them the injustice of not knowing or forgetting that they are spelling bee champions, math whizzes, artists, dancers, friends, musicians. They could be mentally ill, they may have suffered a tragedy, they might just not know how to function in this world or some (like I was at the time) could be one break away from making it. They may have kids, they most certainly had parents. Someone might be praying for them right now, hoping that the world is being kind to them. Their relatives may never know that their loved one was found, scraped up, cremated, dumped, perhaps logged into a registry IF anyone ever knew their name. Or they find out that's exactly what happened, and are left to mourn in a field without markers.

So yeah, let's do something about that. Support a shelter, just remind yourselves that there but for the grace of God go we all, give however you see fit or are able. But do something, goddammit. There's a million ways to make a difference in a person's world, and only a few of them require money. A cup of coffee, an understanding ear, or just not being condescending to the less fortunate is a great place to start.

I know what it's like to have life hit you so hard you can't get up right away. I also know the power of a single act of kindness, especially when it comes at just the right moment. I have witnessed how much a good deed is amplified when done in the spirit of goodness. I have spent years hoping that if I ever get a chance, I can be that person for someone else. Twenty years ago, I was one good deed and a stroke of luck from disappearing off the face of the world forever. May I never be too proud or too spoiled to forget what that was like.

So, my beloved friends and readers: if you ever wondered why I delight in showering my friends and family with food just because I can, why I cringe when the wrong person touches me, why I fear being stranded in the cold more than just about anything, why I worry about the animals in the winter, or why I hoard socks like the world is going to run out of them... well, now you know.