forgot, that speaking,
or more specifically,
espousing a desire, want,
not of the golden variety.
but the punishment variety.
the variety that silences, You.
that silences Your World.
forgot, that speaking,
or more specifically,
espousing a desire, want,
not of the golden variety.
but the punishment variety.
the variety that silences, You.
that silences Your World.
“Resistance” is in my blood … just ask my Mama ;) … and as I look over my unique heritage, I’m not really surprised at all.
Theres the Irish and Scottish colonisation’s, that resulted in their Response and continued Resistance. A few of those ancestors were sent to these ‘colonies’, and tahdah, our line changed. They weren’t perfect humans by any means, in fact there’s a couple who were down right assholes, but I’ll leave that for another post. But their Resistance to the invasion of their countries, was second to none. I admire the fuck out of that part of their narrative.
Then there’s the Jewish blood; the English blood; the French Canadian blood … and of course … the tangata whenua – Maori blood.
Learning about my tipuna and the layers of my Indigenous culture, has given Me a tonne of strength; it’s answered a heap of questions for Me; it’s made Me realise that I already know, deep down, what I need … Who I am … where I want to be. It’s given Me layers upon layers of beautiful healing.
And I am made up of multiple layers of Resistance and Response.
That Resistance has been voiced regarding colonisation and the social justice issues We continue to face as tangata whenua, through my art; and more recently that has extended to responding to, and re-framing sexual violence.
This love of justice … fairness … questioning … reframing … is what gives Me that fire in my belly. It’s probably what has helped to keep Me alive at times and I am grateful for it. I’d rather have it, than have nothing at all <3
“Thou Shalt Not Concede”
The Tohunga Suppression Act of 1907:
suppression of the filthiest.
This shit keeps Me up at night. Seriously, it does.
After a thousand posts on Responding and Resisting Control in one form or another, and another thousand on trying to gain and regain some kind of Independence, I am slowly coming to yet another realisation.
But let Me digress slightly first.
I believe we are ‘controlled’ in one way or another, from the cradle to the grave. Some would say that this is ‘good control’, as in we need ‘checks and balances’ and some kind of stability to maintain a sense of order in society. Same goes for our daily independent lives. Routine and roles are allocated, whether we mean too or not.
We are hammered with gender roles, education ‘musts’, societal niceties, allocated roles, parenting tools and health ‘necessities’ from the get go. What we ‘see’, we absorb, one way or another. It’s the ‘nurture’ debate. That our environments mould us. That what we are taught, advertently or inadvertently, we take on board as a ‘norm’.
(not my meme)
Each ‘group’ has a ‘standardised norm’, just as each household or family has their standardised norm. Whether that be that you attend church every sunday, or go to anti-abortion rallies, or discuss the politics of a certain party. Whether you have 2 daddies, or a single parent, or no parents. Whether your mother cooked your meals, or your father did the preserving, or your siblings vacuumed the floors. All these intricacies build up your ‘standardised norms’. Some we take on, inadvertently. Some we fight against.
And what are we fighting against? Control?
And what are we fighting for? Independence?
So we head off into the world to find ourselves; to establish our beliefs. To flex our independent muscles. Only to find that we are met with another, possibly differing set of standardised norms, that we are to conform too. Once again we are met with an array of information telling us what we should believe, what we should fight against, what is considered ‘normal or abnormal’, what is deemed justified or not.
(not my photograph)
And we filter that information based on the learning we acquired previously. Right? Racism is bad because Dad was of colour and he suffered at the hands of whites? Sexism is bad because my sister was made to lengthen her skirt at school and called ‘wayward’ when she didn’t want too? Eliteism is bad because my grandfather fought in the war? Christianity is good because Jesus died for us? Separating the whites from the colours before washing is good because mum did it? Showering daily is good because Nan said we shouldn’t smell?
With that information we decide whether we should be treated a certain way and whether those around us should be treated a certain way. Right? It’s OK not to have wheelchair access in every building because theres not that many people in wheelchairs. Right? It’s OK to ask females that are raped how much they drank because that might have bearing on why she was raped. Right? It’s OK to teach our children to sit quietly and listen to an adult talking because everything an adult says is important. Right?
(another, which is not my photograph)
So whether we agree or not, with what is presented around us, this process, based on the knowledge we absorbed before-hand, becomes a field of landmines to negotiate. And we react. We didn’t believe in all the christian stuff, so we’ve decided to turn to Buddhism. We don’t agree with segregation so we make sure we are inclusive to default. We never liked being told what to do so we won’t ever put limits on our own children.
And before we are able to get to the other side of that field of land mines, we happen upon a series of events, called Life. Included are sickness, loss, impairment and injustice. The stuff that was supposed to happen to someone else, not us.
So we negotiate our way around that stuff, as best as we can. Based on what? The knowledge acquired beforehand and after? We tackle sickness by going to the doctors, because thats what mum did and thats what the poster at the clinic says. We sign up for every single job we can find because grandma said ‘idle hands are the devils workshop’ and dad said ‘the bills don’t pay themselves. We ignore the lady that says she has ‘friends who are black’, because mum said ‘suck it up, you need the job’ and ‘Mary’ in HR was ‘let go’ after she made a human rights ‘complaint’. We pay the parking ticket even though we know we weren’t parked illegally, because dad said you can’t win against the system and every moment we delay not paying it, to fight against it, a ‘late fee’ gets added. We get insurance, like my brother suggested, and all the television adverts suggest, so the next time we’re robbed we can replace our stuff quickly.
We take up the cause or causes based on the information we ‘know’ and what is presented to us. We take the drugs because the specialist says we should. We send our children to school because they ‘need’ an education. We vote for a certain political party because their beliefs align with ours.
(also, not my meme … apparently owned by a ‘herbs’ place. JS)
Whether we explore other options seems to come down to a couple of things. How trusting we are and whether we can think for ourselves. Right? But what if the other ‘reasons’ for how we respond or react, actually have nothing to do with trust or independent thinking? What if there was another piece of information we were missing?
We take the drugs because we are afraid of the outcome if we don’t. Our children get an education because it is illegal for them not too. We vote because it is the only system afforded to us.
These are not the options generally presented to us. We are usually wooed, blamed or sold the former. I’m assuming because it’s easier to get people to comply inadvertently than offer them a informed choice. Imagine if everyone decided to not choose as was pre-destined for us to choose. So does that mean that these choices are pre-destined? Would that not then make them not real choices? To be offered an alternative that isn’t really an alternative, is therefore a controlled alternative, is it not? By design, the alternative response is also a controlled response.
(&this lil beauty i wish i had written, but alas, also not my meme)
So we react or respond. We ‘free-think’ and come up with resistance. Awesome – Right? What if there was No need for Resistance in the first place? That the Resistance itself, is still Controlled? But what is there instead of complying or resisting? What is there instead of the notion of dependence and independence?
And this is where my realisation came too:
For Me, as an Indigenous person, I am able to look to what my tipuna cohabited like, prior to colonisation. In this existence there was No Dependence or Independence. There was only Interdependence, similar to the ‘community’ concept.
We had no concept of or word for poverty. There were no genders or allocated roles based on gender. There were only states of being that were seamless, transparent and interconnected. They Just Were.
And so I am left wondering, why am I trying to ‘reconcile’ or find wellness, within a superimposed system that was not designed for Me; does not care for Me and does not have my best interests at heart? Why am I trying to strive to be Independent when in actual fact, there is No such thing for someone like Me?
As morose as it may sound, colonisation was not designed to assist Us. It was utilised because complete annihilation and slavery was being abolished by the time the Crown hit our shores. We were not supposed to survive. Rather become willing slaves.
Now even in this realisation, there still has to be a silver lining, Right? Because what is the point otherwise?
What I hadn’t quite comprehended till today, was that just because they’re serving the dish, doesn’t mean I need to eat it.
By doing things ‘their way’, e.g.. -their drugs, their compensation, their options, their reasons, their labels – I am wanting and waiting for them to come up with the assistance and solutions, because somewhere deep down, I must believe they know best? That they have ‘more’ than I do and are able to assist Me with what I need?
But if I also believe what I quoted above – that colonisation and the Crown, were not designed to assist Us – To assist Me – then what am I waiting for?
Would it not be brighter to just do it my tipunas way?
Letting My Yes be Yes; My No be No; being as I Am – Now – with No reason or theory or thinking process attached; embracing Interdependence instead of In-dependence; defining my own version of ‘congruence’, intelligence, reconciliation.
It sounds a whole lot easier, does it not?
The artist, Hank Willis Thomas, talks here about ‘reframing’ what we think we know; what we perceive, or how we view things. His work is designed to challenge our perceptions, misconceptions and views.
To view more of his beautiful and extraordinary work visit: http://www.hankwillisthomas.com
(video via YouTube)
It’s currently ‘technically’ winter in Aotearoa. It is a warm and not so wet winter so far – much to my disgust lol.
So, we’re currently trying to clean our shit up in the yard; although we’ve had a 6 month reprieve from the house being sold, I am forever the realist and am not taking the shit for granted. It’s given us time to clean up, pack up, look for decent alternatives etc etc.
Anywho … here we were wading through weeds and we came across these 2 guys.
The georgian calendar says these beauties should’ve stopped growing Jan / Feb. They’ve never done the random grow like this either … but I think what made Me smile is their sheer tenacity.
Sitting there all bright red and shit, pretty much screaming (in a nice way, not a freddie kruger way ..) fuck yous … we won’t do what you think we should ;)
And because they’re just out there doing their rebel thing, neither Me nor the Partner can bring ourselves to pick it and eat it lol.
So I decided to take a picture of them …
‘Ode to #Resistance !
I think I’ve written about this topic before, but possibly in amongst other ramblings and not a direct action as such … and I’m not really keen on ‘highlighting’ or repeating myself … this is more an exercise of ‘get that shit off’ve your chest now … clear your head … then respond …’
The topic being ‘transgender’ technically, but really, for Me, this has more to do with ‘difference’ and how those that ‘view’ the ‘others’, are doing that viewing and verbalising.
Why the post?
My NewsFeed at the moment is way over-populated with what I’d call ‘transgender – homosexual – difference’ abuse. And as I’m scrolling I’m thinking … ‘how the fuck did this happen … in my NewsFeed anyways’ … yes I know the ‘conversations’ (I use this term loosely) are happening … but it seems I am now in a position of having to decide on a position which I thought I had made pretty clear to anyone and everyone who asked re that positioning, and knew Me at all.
But apparently Not.
Now my bad, if I was not clear via posts and past in person conversations, so just to clarify, this is what I believe (Note: What “I” Believe … you are entitled to have differing beliefs)
Wait … What?
Yes, I hear y’all saying …
“but gender and biology have everything to do with each other!”
Ahhh … Do they?.
You see, in my opinion, whether you put us in a dress or a clown outfit or a suit … we are still going to perform biologically, as we should, until we don’t. For biological ‘women’ that means our uterus starts to perform a monthly cycle of ovulation and period-ing; it means our breasts become equipped to fill up with milk so they can feed our off spring, if we become pregnant and give birth. Theres a whole lot more technical shit that goes on inside of us but I’m not good with technicals. You get my drift I’m sure. So how we dress, or how we act, or how we speak have absolutely no effect on how those biological happenings happen.
As a biological ‘woman’, who is now transitioning through menopause and will soon (hopefully!) cease to ovulate thusly the monthly ‘visits’ will also cease as my reproductive phase draws to an end … do I cease to be a gender identified Woman as so assigned to Me by the societal constraints? If I happen to grow a beard during that process, does this make Me a biological ‘man’? Or am I something in between?
I have personally been fighting the ‘gender constraints’ and ‘assignments’ ALL of my life, and this is the where the Feminism sort-of-kind-of fits in. Feminism has been / is my response to misogyny, and that isn’t just aimed at men! Not only has my response to being assaulted come from a biological womans perspective, it has come from a biological woman who has argued with every single cunt who has asked Me if I am a Miss, Mrs or Ms. You see, that is a gender assignment and has to do with keeping Me in the kitchen, my legs spread or a possible off limits lesbian. Crude examples I know, but you should be getting an idea of what I’m getting at.
Which brings Me to the ‘Trans’ debate.
For Me: There isn’t one.
As a biological woman who is transitioning through her natural phase of reproductivity, on to something else, I am not interested in assigning a ‘role’, or adding to what I believe is a growing prejudice that has spawned out of good old ignorance and fear, yet again.
So back to the point of this post …
I can scroll on over awkward opinions given about the ‘transitioning transgenders’, if they are opinions being shared in order to glean understanding about each other and another perspective.
I can not, and will not scroll on when it comes to blatant ‘gay – bashing’ (which by the way peoples, is So last century) and / or the degradation of a way of life and culture that you are not willing to understand and in all actuality, have not been asked to give an opinion on.
My position is:
I can’t and won’t agree with you opinions or your bigotry.
I won’t teach you. My experience is a biological womans experience. I am not a transitioning person per se, and am therefore not qualified to give a qualified opinion!
However … I won’t put up with your ignorance and bigotry and will remove You from Me and my world.
#racism #reality #history and #truth from “The Negro Subversive”.
I’ve long since lost track of when I first heard it. In all likelihood, it was during the primaries, maybe it was after Trump said that Mexico was dumping rapists and murderers across its northern border. Maybe it was after he attacked the parents of a dead Muslim soldier, implying that his grieving father had beaten his grieving mother into silent submission. Maybe it came earlier: Maybe after it became common knowledge that Trump took out full paged ads calling for a return of the death penalty, just so the state of New York could kill five Black teenagers falsely convicted of raping a White jogger. I could have first heard it in a thousand places, but, I can never ignore it when I hear it. It grates. It twists itself into my abdomen, it triggers a mild but unmistakable bullshit induced stress response. Trump says something hateful: pundits respond:…
View original post 1,703 more words
I Don’t Like It.
It Is Not
It freaks Me
the fuck out.
How many ways
do you need Me
to explain it?
Ok, so after such a lovely calm day yesterday (aka, calm before the storm!), I woke up to a fluster fuck this morning … thank fuck yesterday was calm ay!
This is going to be an un-editted rant / vent / whatever yah like to call it, and there is a point, but I’m not sure that it’ll be that clear at the outset … bare with Me … again ;)
My eldest moko plays the drums and he is freaking awesome!
We’ve had dramas with the school and his supposed ‘behavioural difficulties’ over the last year. In a nutshell though, they want him medicated (after the suspension routine failed), and his only ‘crime’ to warrant such a reaction:
Asking questions whilst being Brown.
It’s something we’ve fought and will continue to fight …. forever.
But now it’s a new generation and we’re having to teach them how to Be in a world that sees only skin colour whether they admit it or not. That fucks Me no end!
So, moko was supposed to be playing the drums for his end of year performance at school. My fuckery of course is getting there … as with anything. Suffice to say, I am Not there today and I want to be, but oh well, moving On.
The school moved the dates and times of this performance / school finale and his Mama and Papa were unable to take time off work; his Aunty was unable to attend; my partner is making a fast last minute dash to get there and record it … and my beautiful Mama took the bull by the horns and got there! She’s updating Me by text as I type and I am, of course, having Big old tears … not completely sad ones … just tears. I love my mokos more than life itself <3
I sent their presents and cookies off with my partner so they’ll get those after as well. I’m glad someone got to be there to see moko do his thing!! <3
So, in amongst all that, I got a phone call from my daughter; she’s in tears, crying about how sucky being an adult is … and when I managed to tease out what was wrong, it turns out she has been trying to dispute a fine that was given to her a couple of years ago; sent to an address she hasn’t resided at for years and during that time it’s escalated from $60 to $180. She can’t pay it; they won’t let her off it and she believes it’s unfair.
Enter my notation and angst with this issue:
Starting way back when (1840ish), once the Crown had made their dubious arrangement with tangata whenua; set up their foreign laws and started changing them to assimilate and devastate Us. I won’t go into all those now … suffice to say, they engage in goal-post moving exercises, thereby changing the rules continuously so we are continuously on the back foot … and then fining the infringements as a revenue building scheme. They (the Crown) have done this for centuries throughout the colonies they’ve invaded and it’s a strategy that works effectively.
My conundrum is more basic:
To give my mokos a fighting chance, We are going to have to teach them how to live in duality earlier than I expected. And we need to teach them how to Know the rules to Break or Bend those rules, and to live free of those rules.
Here is my daughter / whom I taught about colonisation and the Treaty, when she was still in Primary school /, still struggling with the concept of Power over her life. She’s still struggling with the Crowns will versus Her will … she’s still struggling with how to live in both arenas.
Because we weren’t supposed too. No set of peoples were supposed to have dominion over another! Period. Not ever. Anywhere. Ever!!!
But we are an amazing peoples … and we have learnt how to live like / with /around our ‘oppressors’. My struggle though, which is what I hear in my daughters voice … Is the Why? And How is this even fair???
I know the answer:
It’s Not Fair. But short of a world-wide revolution, it is what it is at the moment and we need to learn to live within it or be stung and butt fucked continuously by it.
The video below is an old one. Mr Brownlee was / is a Crown representative at that time, with his Party being in power at the time; the arrogance that he exudes is A.Typical of this lot. And it has nothing to do with Left and Right Wings / Different Parties … this has to do with Power and Control by the Crown (government). It’s an arrogance shared by a shittonne of governments world wide.
The response to Mr Brownlee is given by Moana Jackson, an Indigenous Lawyer; a righteous, well spoken, softly spoken, well educated and self determined Maori man.
On the days, like today, when the Crown pisses Me off … when I’m wondering what the actual fuck we’re doing … and what the actual fuck life is going to be like for my mokos ….
I watch this clip: He restores my fight <3
(not my video)
Spirit energy of
#abstract #art #painting #volcanic #selfdetermination #kpm©
kpm © : ig @kpm-artist
#exhibition #abstract #art #reconstruction #mixedmedia #kpm ©
kpm © : ig @kpm-artist
#exhibition #photography #tangaroa
art has a way of
what can’t be.
like a child’s.
art can describe
what may otherwise be;
for the polite;
to raw for breakfast.
but art can capture
the emotion of a scene,
*These are macro shots of a series of 3 paintings I created, that were part of the “TOO MUCH TRUTH – Women’s Global Resistance to Sexploitation” Exhibition.
The Exhibition finishes this Sunday. I’ll post full shots of these pieces, and their descriptions then.*
kpm © : ig @kpm-artist