Passion and Compassion

Cross-posted here

I'm not a person who feels moderately about things. My opinions and loyalties tend to be rather adamantly on one side, or of unswayed, absolute indifference. That said, it has been a while since something has caused me to feel intense abhorrence and more than a little ill. I am non-violent, and a supporter of human rights for all, but violations of those principals will be a life-long battle, and are on a plane different from my other objections and feelings of injustice. I wouldn't want you to think me completely unfeeling, though I'm not entirely sure why.

The issue that has me fuming is the fate of the Barnes Foundation Gallery. I'm sure this is something of which well-cultured individuals are acutely aware, but I do not travel in such circles, which caused this to come as a shock to me. The appalling account of government officials (Ed Rendell, for one) and charitable trusts grabbing at a priceless art collection, blatantly counter to the will and intent of the man who amassed, curated, and shared it with students, is told in the documentary The Art of the Steal. Now, I'm sure this documentary is a bit biased toward the side of those wanting to keep things the way they always were; but I'm kind of okay with that, mostly because I know there is almost nothing that could sway me to the other side of the argument. As much as I am a liberal who loves change and progress, I am also a natural historian, moved by things that evoke the past.

Watching Rendell brag about destroying a national treasure, a landmark of art and education, is disgusting. The argument that it is for the good of the people, and will turn Philadelphia into a great city is pathetic. Even if moving the collection into the city makes Philadelphia a must see location for art lovers, it is done at the expense of justice and of art itself. Dr. Barnes had the insight and foresight to purchase these great works when galleries across the world passed them up, and scoffed at their validity as art. He, therefore, had sole rights as to the fate of these works. They do not belong to the people, they belonged to one man. Rendell talks about the need to have the works readily available to viewing by the public. At what point, in his mind, do personal possessions become fair game for public ownership? I know that it isn't so cut and dry, as there was a foundation set up, making them not really personal possessions, but violating a will, a trust, is a personal attack; a personal attack on a dead man. Perfect, he can't fight back.

I would love to see the collection, but I don't think I could force myself to walk into the new location; it would be akin to crossing a picket line. Maybe I shouldn't form opinions using such limited source material, but when I have a physical reaction to a person's defense of his or her actions, it tends to be an accurate assessment. Sometimes, first impressions are the best impressions; and even if they aren't, they are the most lasting of impressions. This film got to me first, and has shaped the way I will see this issue. I seriously doubt the ability of the people on the other side to be able to speak as passionately about the collection, the art, or of the intent of its original collector, the things which are important. Anyone who can muster any passion for speaking about increasing tourism or the standing of a city is a person not worth listening to, for their passion is really for money and power; the combination of which seldom leaves room for anything else.

I've been a bit obtuse in my description because I hope that anyone interested will watch the film, or read about the situation. I don't think there is anything that can be done to stop the move, as things are well on their way, but sometimes outrage is best directed at things the imminent. There need be little plotting, strategic management, or holding back when there is no chance of success. There is nothing to lose, as everything at stake is already gone. That lost can still be mourned, remembered, and the actions of those involved examined and extolled or condemned. From my perspective, one side is severely lacking passion and compassion, though I think they might disagree (even if they didn't really believe it). Is a mission to bring something of intrinsic value to the people a noble quest even if it is achieved in an unethical, or at the very least, unsavory, way?

Guys and Dolls

Cross-posted here

A couple of days ago, when I checked Etsy, I was drawn into reading an article supposedly about the origin of pink as a color associated with girls and femininity. I didn't make it through the first paragraph before a brooding but subtle and familiar bitterness set in. This isn't something originated by Etsy, but I am always disappointed to see it perpetuated, especially by a company to which I give money, business, and traffic. Of all of the problems I have with Etsy, this probably isn't the largest, but it is one I didn't expect to encounter. This is a post I didn't want to write, but couldn't walk away from.

My first objection is to the idea that a girl is less than a boy, or, for that matter, that a boy is less than a girl. It has always bothered me when parents hope desperately for a child of a certain sex. I cannot and will not be convinced that two girls are inherently more similar than a boy and a girl, simply because of their sex. Siblings may turn out to be very different from one another, or they may be quite similar, whether they are male or female. I know parents argue that they want the experience of raising a girl or a boy, or both, but I think the experience of raising each child is unique, and that the differences between a male and female child have more to do with the expectations of the parent than with the child.

Our culture is steeped in sexism, much of it blatant, but the persistent, latent sexism inherent in the notion that an unborn child's life will be wanted and valued more if it is of a certain sex, is one of the most disturbing bits of discrimination. Not only is this view ubiquitous, and almost always unquestioned, as it is a view we've come to accept as a general truth, but it is targeting people who aren't even people yet! Apparently, there aren't enough people on the planet to discriminate against, we must make more.

My second objection is to the interchangeable usage of gender and sex. They are not the same thing. Also, a person is not necessarily a boy or a girl, male or female. Neither sex nor gender are binary. While people  brag about their own tolerance and open mindedness, about how it is perfectly fine for a boy to wear pink, as long as he's wearing "boy clothes", a greater issue is missed. People are generally willing to be tolerant as long as that tolerance is comfortable, as long as it at least skirts their community definition of normalcy. As long as they can assign inanimate objects (like clothing) a gender, they don't have to think about the gender or sex of the person using those objects, or they judge that person harshly for not using the properly gendered items. A baby in a dress is a girl, a man in a dress is confusing. People don't like to be confused.

I could delve into this more deeply, but this really isn't the venue. In the grand scheme, these small things may seem just that, small, and unimportant. But, the things we say without thinking, the ideas we regurgitate without rumination, those are the things that are important. Those are our world-view, unedited, and sincere. Those are the things that shape all of our other opinions. Those are the things we must examine if we want to make the world, and ourselves, better.

Rethinking Silk

In breaks between cleaning up things that come out of cats, I've been thinking about what kind of vegetarian I want to be. I call myself an environmental vegetarian, but in reality I'm an accidental vegetarian. I never intended to go veggie permanently, it just kind of happened. In fact, I never thought I could be vegetarian, I live in a small town in West Virginia, procuring vegetarian options seemed impossible. For health and environmental reasons, I needed to cut back on the amount of meat I was consuming, especially of the processed variety. I tried, and it didn't work. So, I decided to do kind of a meat detox, to go a period without it, then add healthier (for me and the planet) alternatives back in, slowly. I've yet to start adding things back in almost two years later. In fact, I seem to be taking more away.

In my first week sans meat, I accidentally ate bacon bits on a salad without thinking about it. I doubt they were real bacon, but the point is that I wasn't paying attention. Or, that I was, but there was too much information, too much change, for me to get it right. By get it right, I mean by my own standards. I don't think being vegetarian makes me accountable to other vegetarians, or other people at all, really. But, I am accountable to myself, which means my habits must evolve with my morality, which must evolve with my increased knowledge and fortitude. The basic formula seems to be, the more I know, the less I eat or buy.