Justice for Brisenia Flores

Justice for Brisenia Flores

Nine-year-old Brisenia Flores was murdered in her home in Arivaca, Arizona in May 2009. She pleaded, “Please don’t shoot me,” right before she was shot — point blank, in the face — by a member of the Minutemen American Defense Corps (MAD)1

The alleged mastermind behind Brisenia’s murder, Shawna Forde, has publicly represented anti-Latino hate groups including the Minutemen and the Federation of Americans for Immigration Reform (FAIR). Forde is currently on trial in Arizona for the murder of Brisenia and her father, Raul. As we speak, the jury is deliberating and will return a verdict within days, or hours.

Our community is waiting on justice for Brisenia.

Her murder represents the violence that follows when hateful and dehumanizing rhetoric and the groups that promote it goes unchecked.

Brisenia’s story has been largely ignored in the mainstream media, but her life has galvanized people around the country to speak out against hate violence towards Latinos. We at Presente designed a poster to honor Brisenia’s memory, and to send a statement that we want justice.

Source of text and image here.

 

“Feminist” Men

       I have been thinking a lot about “feminist men” (whether they self identify/are involved in writing about or organizing around gender issues) because of experiences in organizing, academia and elsewhere in my personal life, and also because of a recent Incite post about the disruptive role of abusive men in organizing projects . I also came across this post entitled, “Are You a Manarchist?”, which listed a bunch of familiar behaviors. I am also sick of ways others also enable this; I am recalling the time a white male organizer who surrounds himself with qwoc  grabbed me inappropriately at a queer party and I was told to ”get over it”, as “everyone makes mistakes”.

       Most recently, I criticized a male organizer for uncritically presenting an objectifying and shallow poem at a predominantly female youth conference. I got a long, back-patting sort of apology back. Apparently the female partner he wrote it about had called him out a bunch of times on the patriarchal dynamics in their relationship and he’s supposedly changed and grown so much since. I was baffled by why I was expected to congratulate him or something, because clearly he decided to present it anyway after all this processing. He admitted he had clung to a more hetero version of the poem bc of his insecurities about his queerness in south asian settings. 

      I’m sick of men who blithely continue doing what they’re doing and and then remind me that it’s a “process” for them to be less sexist. I’m tired of hearing about this arduous “process”, in other words, that I am impatient and should wait it out while he continuously shits on women. This is what I heard a lot from someone I have come out of some sort of abusive and manipulative relationship with; I realized that the guy pulled the same thing with other women and will probably go on doing so, all while surrounding himself with female activists and gender studies profs. I can’t say I have any sympathy to the idea that it’s this huge effort to see me as a full human being. His guilt and self-loathing were twisted into indicators of his lofty complexities that people like are too simple to comprehend, reasons to wallow in self-pity than to take responsibility and engage with others with decency and care. I’m tired of the expectation that I should coddle some guy’s compensatory sexism because his life is so hard as a queer and/or brown man. I feel like I’m running into the same excuses over and over again, including the expectation that I should function as a aid for men’s personal growth (particularly in this email exchange, along with with lip service to being mindful of caretaking dynamics). I will also mention the experience of having my gender analysis dismissed because Party B has read lots of feminist theory, always knows better than me about my own marginalization, and has somehow rationalized away the fact that he screams at me. And the experience of having a man in domestic violence policy work make a joke about how I should find a date to feel better about being punched.  

 A lot of the interpersonal traps that we’ve discussed wrt white defensiveness apply, but I guess I’ve been late to this party due to where I’ve been for the past few years.

this is what i had written:
“you know, i’ve noticed that in a lot of male poetry about love/sex, the body of the female person is abstracted and fragmented, not unlike mass advertising representations. when i was harassed and assaulted on the street this year, it was made clear to me that the other person saw me as body parts and not as a whole person with her own subjectivity. for this reason, i had a discomfort with the initial draft and left the room when it was presented. i felt there were some interesting differences with the other poem that was read at the time. i understand there’s a race angle being represented too – the feeling of racial alienation and intimacy with another poc. but at the same time, the other person seemed to be represented in the abstract as brown skin and t+a. fucking a brown woman isn’t inherently revolutionary.” I really didn’t learn much else about this person besides that they were brown and bangable to you.
 
* i’m also not sure how to use more open, non-binary, non-essentializing language here and i’m open to suggestions.

Talking about a revolution…

When you see photos like these, what do you think about?

Egyptian Revolution

These pictures make me think of change; for me, they encapsulate democracy.  They are the start of securing rights that help us all live, and therefore are worth death and sacrifice.

These pictures remind me of the civil rights movement and the urgency of demanding change, the changes for which work and parties and conventions and committees could wait.  The changes that could send you to jail one day and entitle you to visit any private business you wished the next.

Women Protesting in EgyptPictures like these have inspired hope, political pressure, and the courage to resist.  They are iconic.  They are lessons in civics.  Sometimes, governments do not work for you.  Sometimes, it works to protect itself and its bureaucracy and injustice.  Sometimes, you need to remind governments whose interests they should protect.

They are not waiting for our children to dream.  They are [making] all of our dreams true, today.

These events are not lessons in pride to be shoveled back to a relic in time, some hundreds of years from now in dusty tomes to be revised and shelved.  They are continuing lessons in humility to the overwhelming force of collective change.  Lessons we should honor, we should reteach, and we should always heed.  The consequences of collective change always resonate through our lives, and none of us, no matter how oblivious we try to be, will miss the fallout.

It is time to respect ourselves and the world we live in and demand peace.  Demand responsiveness.  Demand unity.

Many thanks to my co-blogger Bq for the album links and the youtube link and her general fabulousness and friendship.

 

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