Re/membering Knoxville Butch-Femme Herstory

Attending Ann Brummitt’s receiving of friends sent me hurtling back in time, remembering my late 20’s here in the Knoxville lesbian community. The good times, friends and loves sprang from having our own space at The Point After. 

“Womonspace” it was called in other, more progressive communities. Here in the state that boasts the corporate offices of the Southern Baptist Convention, the lesbian feminist movement just never seemed to make it. 

While there were memorable, if sporadic, womyn-oriented events such as those handled by various womyn including Randy Hoffman for many years and various other activists who impacted the community on a short-term basis such as University of Tennessee students, mostly graduate students back in the early to mid-eighties. As an undergraduate representative to the UT Commission for Women, I became aware of the disconnect between the community and UT that persists to this day. While the LGBT community is coming alive and more active than ever on campus, it is all, well, in house. 

That brought me to memories of “The Point” as it was frequently called, located just off "The Strip", the heart of UT's night life. Memories of good times and bad, the rich textures of a lesbian community that was  predominantly butch-femme lesbians who didn’t know they had even missed anything called the lesbian feminist movement. I remember the bar's whole layout: the dance floor, the booths and tables, the bar, the pool tables, and “the line.” The line, of course, lead to the ladies room, but which gave one an excellent view of the entire bar. So, if you wanted to check somebody out or keep tabs on your partner, you went to the bathroom a lot just so you could get that view. This was a well known fact.

My experiences there made Joan Nestles’ writings (Restricted Country and many other titles) resonate with me. So what if I was in the mid-80’s in East Tennessee and she spent her time in a lesbian community in the 1950's Northeast? Her descriptions of the wimmin in her life seemed very familiar to me. She helped me feel validated as a femme. She gave me vision to know that I can define myself. No one else can.

But it was the butches who stole my heart. Such wonderful, glorious female masculinity, that strength that emanates from each and every one of you is the stuff that kept me strong when I became weak, the rock solid encouragement, the supportive partner – these traits are exquisitely beautiful to me. 

Of course, anyone who knows me knows that the love of my life has been by my side for the last twenty-one years, and we’re hoping for twenty more. Thank you, Sam, for being my rock.

Local judge "loses it" on bench

Unprofessional demeanor?

Judge Jon Kerry Blackwood's recent on-camera behavior in the courtroom leaves one wondering how he ever go there in the first place. Screaming threats of contempt of court to long-time Attorney General Randy Nichols, Blackwood appears to be having problems maintaining judicial decorum.

All the screaming was over the potential retrial of three of the defendants charged in the Christian-Newsom murders originally presided over by Judge Richard Baumgartner.  Baumgartner's departure from the bench occurred when his addiction to pain pills came to light. Adding to the mix, his drug dealer was a previous defendant in his courtroom and another had ties with Baumgartner both for drugs and romantic liaisons. Not exactly a great image for the judges here in Knoxville. Now comes his replacement, Blackwood, who not only screams at our AG, but also defies a Tennessee Supreme Court decision that he should recuse himself if new trials are granted in the case. He also refused to let the prosecutors argue for recusal in court last Friday.

Blackwood also made remarks regarding John Gill, Special Counsel to the AG's  office, referencing an email in which Gill notes Blackwood's hatred for the Knoxville News-Sentinel. He further stated that Blackwood was engaged in private communications with the defense attorneys. Am I making this clear? Blackwood has set himself up for recusal for an entirely different reason from the arguments made to the Tennessee State Supreme Court. This kind of communications between a judge and the defense attorneys is prohibited.

Two judges. Two very ugly pictures. One disbarred. One having temper tantrums in the courtroom. Come this way with me, and I'll show you another judge who could stand a good dose of the light of day. His name is Bill Swann. He has held the Fourth Circuit Court bench since 1982. His resume is astounding. This private school Fulbright Scholar taught German at Yale and Brown before coming to the University of Tennessee's College of Law.

So what.

I sat in the courtroom of Judge Swan on six separate occasions. I heard him state that women who ask for Orders of Protection are just doing so "for entertainment." He was inattentive, condescending and arrogant. His lovely background at Ivy League colleges and European intellectual forays have *nothing* to do with how this man treats women. His seat on this bench is a slap in the face to any victim of domestic violence. Period.

So now we have three judges that just don't quite smell right. What's wrong with a justice system that allows for this unbridled unprofessional behavior by men that are making judgments that change people's lives. I think it's time for some good old-fashioned sunshine.

JOY, SHEER JOY!

To thine own self be true = HAPPINESS

I am now and have always been a lesbian feminist activist since I came out in 1978. I am just now getting to do some of the things I have fervently desired since Day One. I am going to be representing Lesbian Connection at Knox PrideFest 2011. I cannot think of an organization I would rather represent. This publication has changed the lives of many lesbians by providing a concrete matrix for a national (and international) lesbian community.

I have worked at many LGBT-related gatherings. I have volunteered for many facets of the LGBT struggle for equality. I promise this little job will bring me more sheer joy than anything I have ever done. I owe these wimmin (sic) *something* for all the encouragement, validation, and vital information that they have made available free worldwide to lesbians since they first began publishing in 1975.

MORE JOY

I received my ticket to the 2011 Michigan Womyn's Music Festival. I shook as I carefully cut the envelope open so that I can scan it for a possible scrapbook. I am just in absolute awe at the accommodations available to disabled persons at this event. I am really going to get to go see my Sisters and The Land. I am dumbstruck with joy.

I have been making clothing and bags to use at MichFest. I also have turned out a ceremonial belt, Croning dress for the ceremony on August 7th - some good Leo energy going on then. When I think about getting to go I lose all grounding whatsoever and just float around propelled with anticipation, wonderful anticipatory fantasy, and (you guessed it) JOY!

My heart is feelin' good today.

Starting to prepare for MichFest


I got up this morning, filled out the forms that I need to send to the Michigan Womyn's Music Festive (hereafter referred to as MichFest. I cannot remember ever being more joyous as when I called Walhalla and spoke with a womon named Terril. She was very patient with me. I told her that I had waited 33 years to come to MichFest, that when I checked their Web site to see if they could accommodate a visually impaired, hearing impaired, mobility impaired lesbian. I broke down when I saw all the wonderful supports that were in place to enable those of us who need them to attend. I felt a wave of memory wash over me. I was instantly back in 1979 in Montana helping distribute "The Amazon Spirit," a statewide monthly newsletter published by local lesbian feminists. I was down in Stone Mountain, Georgia, watching Melissa Etheridge perform onstage at RhythmFest in 1989, feeling tearful gratitude for Holly Near who works so hard to make the venues where she performs accessible. It's like a cocoon. The lesbian womonenergy is addictive. It is a place apart where my sisters care about each other and actively advocate for each other.

On Sunday, I bought the tallest air mattress that would fit my budget, a battery-powered inflation pump, and a bunch of D batteries. I also got an 8 X 10 tarp.

I was a bit anxious about how much energy it would take to do my two proposed workshops. To my delight, when I opened my MichFest folder I found detailed outlines for both of them. I did them a month or two ago, but formot all about doing them. The first one will be about sharing my experiences as a native Appalachian lesbian. How I try to keep the best parts of my culture while struggling mightily against the oppression of patriarchy that is the very matrix of Appalachian culture. I quilt. I crochet. I can. I make apple butter. I can. I can pass some good Appalachian culture down to my grandchildren without buying into the old boy Christian shoulder-patting submissive female role that engulfs many Appalachian straight women and lesbians as well.

The second one will be about the emotional roller coaster that occurs in many of our lives when our mothers die. I am an old hand at this one. My mother died in 1971. I was 19. The ogre to whom she was married called her into his private office, threw a red jacket over her head, and shot her six times. The pain is indescribable, but I have learned to live without her. I'm hoping that a group of wimmin will provide an opportunity to give and get support around this issue.

I'm ready tor some good womon energy, bonfires, rock and roll. sweet acoustic guitars, intensive intensives, sharing and meeting my sisters from all over the world. I cannot wait to get to The Land. I will put down my walking stick, kneel down on my one good knee and will lay a big one on the Holy Terra. This has been a long time coming.


_________________________________________________________________

Photo credit - Sam Bays
False Solomon's Seal in my front garden

Local mainstream news sources watch a different Madison

Focus on the Dems flight, not protests


After watching the live events in Madison, Wisconsin, on MSNBC with Ed Shultz I turned on my local news. When the Wisconsin story aired I was absolutely dumbfounded. The entire story focused on the Democratic legislators who have fled the state to prevent a quorum necessary for a vote on the bill that could end collective bargaining rights for state government employees.
I kept waiting for the fact that this workers' uprising is like none other in the history of the United States. These workers have stayed the course and will be joined in ever greater numbers by locals with a day off and others coming in one by one and by busloads.

Not one remark told of the tens of thousands who have stood fast in the cold Wisconsin weather to assert their right to health care, fair working conditions, a living wage and the collective bargaining process.

Looking at the 4-5,000 people assembled inside the capitol building was nothing short of jaw-dropping awe. The energy is infectious. Tomorrow they expect 40,000. No mention of
any of this was made in the four local news sources I checked after being clued in by the newscast.

I intend to watch any live broadcast I can manage because I am now aware that I have some major perception differences when compared to our local mainstream news sources.

Surprise, surprise.

Moving forward with MichFest plans

I've been in dreamland these days, thinking about MichFest and the pilgrimage I have wanted my entire life. These thoughts are interwoven with the crocheted cotton stitches of my evening wrap, the bead work on my "Pisces" shirt. I am allowing myself to breathe and know that I am dis/covering wisdom as I plod toward my Croning with great thought and reverence.

Knowing that I am embracing a journey that will entail many challenges only makes me want it more. I have fantasies of offering up one of my Max/ine Feldman purses for auction to help pay my expenses. More fantasies break through my consciousness, leading me to take gifts to randomly or not-so-randomly distribute to those who seem to need them along the way. I'm obsessing with having as many things as possible homemade - adding an amalgam of healer and weaver literally imbued to the very threads. I have been an healer, a weaver and grower-of-herbs for many years. Some say many lifetimes.

I have finished the Pisces shirt and am on to making my Africa skirt/caftan/not sure yet. The wrap is still ongoing, but it won' take long. It will soon be time to make my Croning dress.

MY HOPES AND DREAMS HAVE INTERSECTED WITH THE HORIZON

I am MichFest bound, baby!

Why (you ask) is this woman blathering on about a festival that doesn't happen until August?

Because I have waited 33 years to go. I have dreamed of attending the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival
since I first heard about it in 1978. The stories I have heard from the womyn who have attended make my head swim with images of so many womyn singing, laughing, playing, emoting, eating, and just living together in a separate space that has be guarded steadfastly6 by their courageous staff for the last 35 years.

I seriously thought I would never be able to go. I have low vision and cannot drive. While the MichFest com board offers a section for those who need a ride, I am not comfortable riding with strangers. So, I gave up on my dream for all time.

I was speaking with Linda, a friend, when the subject of MichFest arose. Yeah, I admit it. I brought it up. I told her of my unadulterated jealousy regarding her annual treks to MichFest. She offered to let me go with her. I almost blacked out.

You see, she not only offered a ride. She also offered to "take care" of me, a phrase that did not offend me in the least. I have low vision. (For those not familiar with those terms, they simply mean I'm almost blind. I also have a severe hearing loss in both ears. Add to that my horrendous joint problems, and it becomes crystal clear just how generous her offer was.)

I've been on that Web site ever since our conversation - always an open tab on MichFest. I'm thrilled, exhilarated, ecstatic, full of joy and an unabashed gynophile!!

HERITAGE LGBT STYLE



I have just returned home from my first Pride event in two years. Heritage Night is special to me because it is the event that brought my activism back to life back in 2004. In most communities, it is a time to honor the elders who have blazed the path for those coming into their own in this day and time. It is usually a time to reflect on the collective community memory, while making sure the path is clear for all.

Before I go on, let me just say that the event planners were wonderful. They did a lot of hard work to make this community come together during Pride Week. I honor their efforts and extend my gratitude to them. All of them.

We were offered a film made locally by some young white folks for some young white folks. Inclusive - a word that those of us in the LGBT movement use frequently. We give lip service to the rainbow of variations that our lives represent. Race, class, sex, gender identity, differently able and numerous other descriptors come to mind as the un/spoken prize longed for by those of us who have tramped the roads of this struggle for many years. We hope. We do our best to be sure that the whole spectrum is represented in venues that serve to bind us together as a community. That not-so-simple deed cannot be done unless these words are spoken. We have to speak ourselves into being, not just in a dialogue (although those are absolutely necessary,) but as a chorus. Taking time for solos, duets, three-part harmonies, raunchy drinking rounds, quiet poetry – taking time to listen to all whose voices are offered to be heard. We cannot have a chorus of only tenors. While their music may be beautiful, it is not the depth and range that can be obtained when we combine our voices. We can expand, hoping to resonate with as many of our people as possible.

How can we do this? It starts with recognition by young and not-so-young newly-out folks who have lots of energy and want their voices to be heard, to tell of the oppression they have suffered, the indignities they have endured. I want them to sing out. I honor their stories. I want their unique journeys to be offered up on the altar of our collective consciousness and that of as many kindred souls who can hear.

For those who think I am on a pointless rant, let me explain. I sat through the film that told the story of some young LGBTIQ people who have experienced what it is to be an LGBTIQ youth in Knoxville, Tennessee. Unfortunately I cannot tell you very much about it. The film was not closed captioned. I am mostly deaf. The deaf call me hard of hearing. In any case, I could not understand a single word that was said. Those who know me well know this fires up my Leonine nature. I do understand that closed captioning is expensive. If only those who produced the film had taken a moment to acknowledge the lack of access for those of us who are hearing impaired, it would have been a bit easier to swallow. As it was, I felt ignored, minimized, excluded. Believe it or not, one never gets used to it.

All of the people in the film were young except the parent of one of the young persons. I wonder if this were the case due to grant parameters, or if they simply did not make the effort to reach out to the rest of the community and *ask* for participation. Maybe they did. If so, I missed it. The question of money brings us gracefully to the important issue of class and how it marginalizes people in this and every other community. So many times I have seen folks shunned, ignored, marginalized, sometimes deliberately, sometimes unwittingly.

I feel it necessary to say that I do not feel adequate to address the issues of racial divides in the LGBTIQ community. I know so little, only what I can observe. What I see are two completely separate communities, the boundaries of which are traversed only by a few individuals. Knowing that there are windows that appear from time to time that allow white folks to peek into a world that we cannot experience, but can only imagine. Seizing that opening should be a priority for our leaders. I admit to having failed to optimize my own efforts in this regard, but hope to pick up and run with this soon. I will try harder, make more room in my schedule and my heart to move forward with this to the best of my own abilities.

Then, of course, there is the issue of age. I guess old queers are just supposed to shut up and sit in the corner or better still simply dry up and blow away. I’ll be damned. Do I have to say over and over and over that the patriarchal death march that passes for mainstream culture is ga-ga- over youth? It is *everywhere*. Women are just supposed to die at age 30...40? I’m 58, and I’m still kicking. My soulheart physically hurts when I realize that the lesbian village, that can give wisdom and direction, has vanished into 90s air, leaving us at the dawn of the second decade of the century, plowing the same ground over and over and over.

Those who are close to our Mother may know of a phenomenon called hard-panning. This happens when the same ground is mechanically tilled season after season with no attempts to aerate or improve the soil. Over time the layer of earth that is just beneath the tines grows hard, especially in our clay soil. The end result is that nothing can grow in soil that has been treated this way. The analogy just seems so fitting. I applaud the efforts of the young people who produced the film tonight, but I could not shake the feeling that our collective memory has *never* taken root. We just keep plowing the same field over and over, wondering why nothing will grow.

A womon wrote in to the last issue of Lesbian Connection bemoaning the loss of lesbian feminist community. That resonated to my very bones. We are no longer supposed to want that. We are all under this fucking rainbow, and we are supposed to like it. Some of us like it some of the time. Few lesbians I have spoken with on this subject like the LGBT thing all the time. Even if it is a head space, we need wimmin’s space. We need to re/member the connections that can empower us and provide opportunities for intergenerational dialogue and understanding within the lesbian community. We cannot coalesce by cordoning ourselves off into ever dwindling splinter groups.

We need also, at this point in time in East Tennessee, to create bonds of friendship and commonality with gay, bisexual and transgender people. That can only come if we know who we are. One cannot offer an empty shell, a political-zombie, and expect productive community-building to occur. We need to flesh out who we are as people. We need a place to exchange ideas and aspirations without the encumbrances of alcohol in an environment that encourages participation. I have planted this seed in my own mind. I would now like to plant it in yours. By throwing the idea out there, perhaps we can come together and prosper.

Well, back to the Pride event.

When the belly dancer started, I left. I felt like a zebra in a herd of thoroughbreds. Swaying hips and dancing girls with all manner of scarves and teasing movements interpreted through the mind of another may be a wonderful experience. I can almost see the observation of belly dancing as entertainment – for men. I am not comfortable with that much sexuality in mixed company. Call me a prude. Call me jealous. Call me, please, a quasi-separatist. There are things that I can enjoy in mixed company. Belly dancing is not one of them. When performed for men’s enjoyment, it becomes distorted and creates an atmosphere in which I am very uncomfortable. The roots of this dance run deep, touching on the hot core of patriarchal machinations, oppression of wimmin and silencing of wimmin’s voices. The idea that it is done for exercise is just plain bullshit. I kept wondering where the pole was. Like I said, I had to leave.

I understand that the production of Pride events is a lot of work. I truly appreciate the effort that it takes to make this love offering to the community. I know because I have done it. I became so tired that I had to rest for a time in order to even feel that I could breathe at a Pride event again. From my friends I felt welcomed and valued. I love them with all my heart. I guess I’m just an old curmudgeon who re/members and longs for continuity in a community that at least wants to re/member, whether they can or not.

Normally when I write music, the tune comes long before the lyrics. In fact, I have a couple or three "unlyriced" tunes in my music bag right now. But this horrible disaster in the Gulf of Mexico made the words spill out almost involuntarily.

OCEANA'S CHILD

One fine spring day
Oceana basking
In sun's golden rays.
Her salt air spraying
As wave greets shore.
These lovely days
We'll see no more.

CHORUS

For we are all
Oceana's children
Withing her arms
All life begins.
Her fertile shores
Both deep and shallow
Sustain us all.
This you must know
As we mourn the Gulf of Mexico.

Quietly the news of tragedy,
Of explosion and death
Off the shores of Louisiana
Oil workers drew their last
Earthly breaths.
Their loved ones mourn
The loss of family.
Without a graveside
To adorn.

CHORUS

The crude oil spews
Poisoning the water.
All creatures now
As good as dead.
This black muck comes forth
From BP's faulty bed.

CHORUS

The death begins,
The creatures struggle
Against the poison
In the deep.
Soon poison gases
Join in the chorus,
Spreading out, ever spreading
In ghastly waves
Of deathly sleep.

CHORUS

We cannot fix this
With hose and hair.
There are no scrubbers
In Oceana's lair.
We must arise
And defend our homeland.
Or swear to die
On Oceana's sand.

(C) 2010 Beth Maples-Bays

(Please know that these lyrics are just roughed out. Something --told me to offer them up for you to read, so I did. If you have any questions about these lyrics, feel free to leave comments.)

I


I'm up and at 'em early, getting ready for the breakfast plenary that promises to elaborate on the double discrimination faced by LGBTQ immigrants in the United States

Later, I will moderate a breakout session (workshop) on media and accessibility. I believe this will be the first time that voices of LGBTQ disabled folks will be heard at a National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association convention. Today will provide a broad overview with an eye to more specific workshops in future conventions. With 78 million Baby Boomers aging rapidly, the need to have accessible journalism products becomes more pressing if we are to tap into this vast market and provide news and information critical to these times.



An article about the events and concerns leading up to my proposal for the workshop was published in Insight, the daily paper chronicling the events at the convention. Student journalists staff the publication, and I am thoroughly impressed with their work product. Maybe next year, we can have some UT j-majors on the staff.


More later...

Margaret McElligott named 2007 Women's Distinguished Service Award recipient
























McElligot accepts award from a smiling Lauren Ober, Women's Task Force Chair

Greetings from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association 2007 convention!

I am blogging live from Westin Horton Plaza in downtown San Diego where the NLGJA convention has been in full swing for the second day. The plenaries and breakout sessions never fail to please with topics such as blogging vs. reporting, gay media covering gay news, and the 40th anniversary of The Advocate to keep all attendees excited about the annual LGBT Media Summitt on Thursday, followed by the general convention when our cohorts from mainstream media joined us today.

In addition to new board members, NLGJA has a new executive director. David Barre, formerly with Greenpeace and the National Minority AIDS Council, looks forward to moving NLGJA into the future, meeting and exceeding membership goals including extra efforts to recruit women and people of color.

With many so many topics and photos, I will have to wait until I return to Tennessee to make a full report, but in the meantime I will post snippets periodically.

Look for them in your inbox!

Lesbian anti-terrorist freedom fighters

The ultimate fighting machine

There is finally a solution for combating worldwide terrorism! Check out the latest version of the Lesbian Avengers outlined on Pam's House Blend. Condi will love you for it.

Who is Tom Cole, and why is he calling me?

Republicans stoop to yet another low, calling small business owners

I just got a phone call from Rep. Tom Cole (R-OK) sounding an alarm for the poor small business owners and outlining his forecast of trouble ahead because of that nasty old Nancy Pelosi. I mean, really - she has to be evil, right? She's a woman with money in a powerful position and a Democrat to boot!

It seems that Rep. Cole is the chair of the National Republican Congressional Committee, and he is "concerned" for the health of our small businesses. This guy was "deeply involved" (from the NRC Web site) in the fiasco otherwise known as the sham that passed for an election in Florida's 2000 Presidential race. This pointy-headed conservative with his three degrees is hardly worried about the Mom's and Pop's, but rather seeks only to erode the Democratic foothold in Congress so that he and his "party" can spend more money on their illegal wars while they consistently reduce funding levels for programs aimed at improving our nation's health, education, and general well-being of the people. He should be ashamed of himself.

As my grandmother would say "horse-shoo."

Knox County Democratic Party Chair Betty Reddick notes, "The health of our nation's small businesses are not endangered by Speaker Nancy Pelosi."

Well, indeed. I couldn't have said it better myself, Betty.

The phone calls appear to be part of a national campaign to attack Speaker Pelosi and the new Democratic Congressional majority by raising the level of fear and anxiety among our nation's small business owners. I hope they don't fall for it. I'm afraid some will. The message needs to go out that we won't be duped again. The last time small business owners got a fair shake there was a guy named Bill in the White House.

After scraping my jaw up off the floor, it occurred to me that I am listed on the national do-not-call list. Unfortunately, these folks can call me all day everyday due to the political party exemption from from state and federal do-not-call registries. I will say however, that I will make a point of broadcasting their dirty, shameless tactics every time my tellie jingles.

It is ironic that a link to the National Do Not Call Registry is the second link down in the left margin navigation bar on Cole's Web site. That would certainly indicate to me that harassing phone calls are a cause for concern among his constituents. Maybe he just doesn't care.

I want the Tennessee Republicans who pretend to represent my family in Washington to know that I do not appreciate this telephone harassment. Congressmen David Davis, John J. Duncan, Jr., Zach Wamp, and Marsha Blackburn - you are now on notice that if you party does not *back off* I will blog this harassment every time it happens.

National Conference on Media Reform

Friday, Jan. 11, 2007

The day was exhausting, and I did not have the energy to blog last night. It was an intense day starting with Dr. Willie Harenton, the Mayor of Memphis, followed by Bill Moyers. You know, I never knew Moyers is a Southern Baptist. It made sense, but it just never occured to me. His limited view of diversity was attributed to his status as such as I listened to him speak. Little did I know that it would be a common refrain in the rarified atmosphere of the conference.

After lunch, we were treated to Danny Glover, topped off with Jesse Jackson. I never clapped so hard in my life. Jackson's rousing style replete with the wonderful cadence that is the exclusive domain of Southern African American preachers was balm to my soul. I overlooked the occasional dampening of my enthusiasm over his references to Christianity in fair exchange for the lift to my spirit that he always brings.

Following that I went to a workshop on Big Media moderated by none other than Phil Donohue. Phil's 25 years as a pioneer in TV talk was a frequent source of inspiration for me in the mid-seventies. His groundbreaking topics brought previously taboo subjects to the fore for American viewers. We owe him a great debt of gratitude.

Entitled "Inside Corporate Media: Can It Tell The Truth?", they began by talking about Donohue's brief stint at MSNBC that coincided with 9-11 and the beginning of the war in Iraq. Jeff Cohen, author of Cable News Confidential, worked with Phil on the MSNBC talk show. They were quite honest about the fact that Phil was fired because of his criticism of Bush and the number of anti-Bush guests they booked.

I knew there had been something going on back then, but it just seemed like so much was happening so fast, that I had never delved into the why's and wherefore's of Donohue's quiet disappearance. As I look back, it makes perfect sense.

Cohen has an impressive progressive journalism resume, however I believe I admire him the most for spendng five years at Fox News. I identify with entering enemy territory to bring a message to the people. That is exactly how I feel frequently while working on LGBT issues in East Tennessee. Homeland or not, the natives are definitely hostile.

The workshop also featured Juan Gonzalez, a brilliant historian who probably knows more about Latino and Native American journalism in the American West during the period of atrocities otherwise known as Manifest Destiny as anyone on the face of the earth. I find him fascinating.

Laura Washington also sat on the panel. She is a free-lancer who writes for the Chicago Sun-Times and In These Times. She told an interesting story about her first interview with the Sun-Times early in her career. The job in question involved covering a beat that included low-income, dense housing areas that were populated predominantly by African Americans. The interviewer asked her if she thought she could cover that beat with objectivity. She looked him dead in the eye and asked, "Would you ask a white writer if they can cover the suburbs objectively?" Needless to say, she did not get the job, but says that ultimately it has worked out better for her in her role as free-lancer.

Saturday, Jan. 13, 2007

Memphis, TN

My day began with a workshop on civil rights after a quick breakfast at my hotel. I had planned to go to the Policymakers workshop, but the congressmen could not be there until after 2:00 p.m. I chose the civil rights workshop, hoping for more diversity that I saw on Friday. The presenters at this conference have whittled diversity down to one word - "raceNgender." Age, geographic ethnicity, religious diversity, sexual orientation, gender identity/expression, ableism were all cast to the wind with raceNgender foremost on the minds of every speaker I heard on Friday.

In fact, not one single speaker addressed *any* form of discrimination/oppression except for raceNgender with an occasional bone tossed to the dog named economic justice. I guess I had forgotten where I was. I thought I had come to a conference to network with open-minded progressives. Instead I found myself in an Oz populated almost exclusively with middle class hippies of various ages aka the peaceNjustice folks along with a handful of political operatives and professional journalists.

I'm not here to trash the conference. Some important and creative work has occurred here, but as was noted at the Women and Media workshop that I attended for my second installation today, the only women speaking in the plenaries (the large banquet-hall-type room) were actresses, namely Geena Davis and Jane Fonda. I missed Geena and may not get to see Jane. All I've heard were men who talked about raceNgender until it came out of my ears.

In no way do I mean to disrespect the struggles of people of color. I have been alive in East Tennessee since 1952. I saw first-hand what they struggled against and how they continue to struggle in many ways.

Gender discrimination is very real. I am a product of the second wave of the women's movement. Without the brave women who cared for the psychologically-injured young woman who had lost her mother to a madman, I would probably not be here today. The universal war on women is the matrix from which I understand everything else. Our struggles have really just begun. Global justice for women is something that is very important to me.

But dammit, they're not the only ones who struggle. I take much more flak for being pagan than for being female in the circles I live in today. I lived for years in fear that I would lose my children to the foster care system because of who I love. I have lost jobs, apartments, and much more because I am lesbian, because I dare to love women and share my life with one woman. Since Sam has transitioned, many may question the latter statement, but let's just put it this way. All of my partners since 1978 were born female.

At any rate, the Media and Women workshop was great. It included a variety of speakers who were at least three different colors as well as geographically diverse. It contained no women much over forty and no lesbians.

The final workshop of the day was a Policymaker Roundtable with Congressmen Maurice Hinchey (D-NY) and Steve Cohen (D-TN). It was moderated by Frannie Wellings of the Free Press, sponsors of the conference. I am so offended by some of the things Wellings did that I cannot at this time write in detail about this workshop. I am deeply offended by the lack of LGBT voices at this conference. I am deeply disappointed by her lack of concern regarding that issue.

I felt that it would only be fair to get a statement from someone representing the conference with regard to this. Speaking with Outreach Coordinator Charlotte Capogna, I emphasized my gratitude for the willingness to dialogue around LGBT issues that she and the Women in Media organizers and presenters had shown. Her willingness to admit that this is an area that needs work has endeared her to me forever. I am also grateful to the young lesbian who was working at the information table on the Mezzanine. I did not get her name, but she was very helpful and sweet.

Hopefully I will have time to write more tomorrow or Monday. For now, I must call it a night.

National Conference on Media Reform

www.freepress.net

Thursday, January 11, 2007

12:35 pm

I am bored stiff as I fly via Northwest Airlines to Memphis for the National Conference on Media Reform hosted by Free Press.

As I waited with my partner, Sam, to board my flight at the McGee-Tyson Airport, three young adults sat immediately behind us, engaged in a rather loud conversation. Even I with my severe hearing impairment could understand enough of what was said to gather that the young woman doing most of the talking was affiliated in some way with the Knoxville Police Department (KPD.) She began describing the recent prostitution stings that KPD conducted along Magnolia Avenue in East Knoxville, a street well known for such activity.

Her diatribe consisted of a blatantly slanted account of the stings lauding the poor police officers who were sent to this area to do the work they were paid by the taxpayers to do. Her unspoken complaint was imbedded in her description of the “little old ladies” who repeatedly requested that their neighborhood be cleared of these people with careful note that there was really noting law enforcement could do about it. In addition to attesting to the futility of these stings, her sympathy for the police officers who had to the this work oozed like honey from every word she uttered.

I could no longer resist. I reached for a business card and turned around, offering it to her as I introduced myself. I pointed out that I was familiar with the stings in question and highlighted the fact that the names of the men having sex with men who were arrested in Tyson Park were named on the air by WVLT-TV in Knoxville.

She immediately retorted that that was the fault of “the media.” I returned fire stating that the only “media” doing this was the most conservative station in the area. You know, the one that included a segment by Dr. James Dobson of Focus on the Family fame in each evening news broadcast.

I turned around and stewed in my juices until I remembered that the Chief Information Officer for KPD, Darrell Debusk, was a recent guest on the Halerin Hilton Hill morning radio talk show on WNOX Newstalk 100, local Reich Wing radio station. During his appearance, he read the names of the 15 men previously arrested at Tyson Park, He did not ready any names associated with the Magnolia Avenue stings.

She stared at me, apparently speechless, as I leveled the whole spiel of information at her that I had gathered during my background research for an Equality Herald article, also carried on Out and About Newspaper’s Web site.

She remained speechless, staring. Her companions turned around to see this woman, middle-aged grandmother, who knew statistics about men who have anonymous sex in public places. You see, I could not resist letting them know that these men are mostly married and heterosexual.

9:59 pm

After a frustrating beginning during which I practically had to wring a neck or two to get someone to show me where the elevators were, I finally got registered and got cleared for press credentials.

After an exhausting day, I was hungry and found that Memphis has a trolley system that, for $1/ride, will “carry you” to Beale Street and other destinations. As I stood awaiting the trolley, I found a lovely trio consisting of two young women from New York City, one an academic and one a broadcast journalism activist, along with their friend, a man from Seattle. We rode the trolley and met up with their friends at the famous Rendezvous Ribs. Our waiter was the very chap pictured on their Web site. His playful gruff manner made it even more fun.

The friends that had joined us were all from Canada. We had wonderful conversation about everything from kids to Dubya to the Alcan Highway. They were all sweet, interesting people who were patient with the deaf old lady from Knoxville.

NYU prof slams Dobson for "distorting" research

Letter released by Truth Wins Out ED Wayne Besen


In a press release issued by Truth Wins Out Executive Director Wayne Besen, a letter written by New York University psychology professor Carol Gilligan blasts Focus on the Family's James Dobson for "distorting" her research in a recently released Time magazine article on Mary Cheney's pregnancy. The letter, provided by Truth Wins Out, articulates Gilligan's displeasure with Dobson's use of her research to underpin his conclusions that same-sex couples cannot provide a positive family environment in which to raise children. Her position is stated in no uncertain terms.

Dear Dr. Dobson:

I am writing to ask that you cease and desist from quoting my research in the future. I was mortified to learn that you had distorted my work this week in a guest column you wrote in Time Magazine. Not only did you take my research out of context, you did so without my knowledge to support discriminatory goals that I do not agree with. What you wrote was not truthful and I ask that you refrain from ever quoting me again and that you apologize for twisting my work.

From what I understand, this is not the first time you have manipulated research in pursuit of your goals. This practice is not in the best interest of scientific inquiry, nor does bearing false witness serve your purpose of furthering morality and strengthening the family.

Finally, there is nothing in my research that would lead you to draw the stated conclusions you did in the Time article. My work in no way suggests same-gender families are harmful to children or can't raise these children to be as healthy and well adjusted as those brought up in traditional households.

I trust that this will be the last time my work is cited by Focus on the Family.

Sincerely,

Carol Gilligan, PhD
New York University, Professor

Dobson's article entitled "Two Mommies is One Too Many" released Monday, December 10. was a guest column for the industry giant. This is not the first instance of Time giving Dobson a platform for hate speech.

Dobson is the Founder and Board Chair of Focus on the Family, a right-wing group seen by many as dedicated to perpetuating patriarchal nuclear families with the traditional heterosexual couple with children to the exclusion of all other family constellations. They are headquartered in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Their mission (from their Web site) -

To cooperate with the Holy Spirit in disseminating the Gospel of Jesus Christ to as many people as possible, and, specifically, to accomplish that objective by helping to preserve traditional values and the institution of the family.

"No reputable media outlet should continue using Focus on the Family as a resource because they are chronically dishonest and lack credibility," says Besen. "James Dobson should start to wonder if there is something inherently wrong with his stance on gay issues if the only way he can support his positions is outright lying."

Truth Wins OUT is a non-profit organization that counters right wing propaganda, exposes the "ex-gay" myth and educates America about gay life. For more information, visit www.TruthWins.Out.org.

Sears buys ads on LOGO

American Family Association issues Action Alert in protest

by Beth Maples-Bays

The American Family Association issued an Action Alert this morning urging members to call and write Sears regarding their purchase of ads on LOGO, a cable network devoted to LGBT programming.

Sears’ public relations spokesperson declined to comment and refused to be identified. He states that Sears buys advertising across the spectrum of available markets. He pointed out that it is Sears’ policy not to comment on present or future marketing strategies. They are aware of the AFA Action Alert.

From the AFA Action Alert:

Sears has thrown its support to the LOGO network. LOGO is the 24-hour cable television network dedicated to programming for lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transgenders according to a homosexual advertising website. It is carried on many cable systems around the country. Many of you have been forced to accept it as part of your cable package. Sears is now helping to make it mainstream!

Sear's advertising will help LOGO air shows like "Sex 2K Drag Kings," "The Gayest and Greatest of 2006," and "Transgeneration."

Sears advertising (two-minute infomercials) will go to help the fledging network get on firm financial ground. Sears advertising is financing LOGO's push to legalize homosexual marriage in addition to promoting the homosexual lifestyle.

Sears is owned by Kmart Corporation.

Sears will be hearing from the Religious Reich on this. We need to let them know that we appreciate their support for our community.

Take Action

1. Send an email to Sears asking them to cancel their advertising on LOGO.

2. Call your local Sears store and ask why Sears is supporting the homosexual network with its advertising.

3. Forward this email to your friends and family.

Click Here to Send Your Email to Sears Now!

Aylwin B. Lewis, President

Sears Holdings

3333 Beverly Road

Hoffman Estates, IL 60179

Primary Phone: 847-286-2500

Secondary Phone: 1-800-549-4505

Fax: 847-286-7829

E-Mail: Aylwin B. Lewis, Sears Holdings