mini road trip
'm in Santa Barbara to get TC, who'll be living with
me for a couple of months till my lease is up. She's
housesitting & the cat, Babinka, is too cute. She's a
siamese who walks on the tips of her paws and has a
gurgly meow. I am proud to report that i have earned
the Babinka purr of approval.
This house is very small but very appropiate to a
woman who lives alone with a kitty; the ideal life,
really. Come home, hang out with the cat, open a
bottle of wine...fall asleep. Yes. Yes I could live
that way. The neighbors seem quiet, too. I'm jealous
of this lady. No screaming kids, no cholos bumping
tha bass, no one in the house to eat your food or
waste your toilet paper or hog the bed.
Walking out to the main drag, I realized what TC was
talking about when she called this area the ghetto.
As soon as you get close to the main drag, there's a
lot of trash on the floor and a liquor store or two on
every block. feels like home. There was one corner
where all these tough looking kids gathered & I had to
walk by them, and i realize that I haven't been in a
situation like that for years and years--mostly
because I know all the tough kids in my area, and I'd
stop to talk to them. heh. I never understood the
fact that where I lived would be looked at as a
"slum," because of the pendelton jackets and cut off
dickies. The hairnets. It was never bad, I always
felt safe, able to relate to them and aware of how
full of it the meanies were. But here, they look
mean. Are they meaner, or are they just foreign to
me? At the same time that i felt fine, whatever,
"home," just figuring out the street names, I felt
so...not white, but just _different_ from the people
who live and work in the neighborhood. I started
thinking about bell hooks, and her fondness of using
the term "black folks." I wonder, if I started to
talk about "raza," would it be an approximation of the
same thing? Someone talking about "their people,"
while at the same time removed fom those people? I
ordered my food in Spanish, without a trace of accent,
because I've never had on. I ordered a veggie
burrito. (which was very tasty and I even ate the
broccoli). Obviously, my position as a 1st generaton
college student is not particular to me. this IS
america, for crying out loud, and the republicans
haven't shut all the colored folk out of education
YET. but I can't help feeling out of place most of
the time. It's something you just learn to live with.
It's ok to observe, but whining about it does not
help. In fact, it infuriates me. There will always
be things to separate people, be it race, gender,
orientation, class, preference for coke or pepsi. I
would like to become a person who does not fear the
reprocussions to myself and my lifestyle because of
others', but that does take work.
Lately I feel like my personal stance tends toward
humanism rather than feminism. I think college has
worn me out with the isms. I just want to be
Elizabeth, listen to indie music while resistng the
indie uniform of a haircurt that is fucked up in
juuust the right way, to match my $57 urban outfitters
ugly ass bile green t-shirt.
ha. It occurs to me that maybe part of the reason I
feel out of place is that I like to be alone and
independent, and groups of people often form from some
desparate neeeeeed for companionship, rather than
affinity or desire for _that person_.
me for a couple of months till my lease is up. She's
housesitting & the cat, Babinka, is too cute. She's a
siamese who walks on the tips of her paws and has a
gurgly meow. I am proud to report that i have earned
the Babinka purr of approval.
This house is very small but very appropiate to a
woman who lives alone with a kitty; the ideal life,
really. Come home, hang out with the cat, open a
bottle of wine...fall asleep. Yes. Yes I could live
that way. The neighbors seem quiet, too. I'm jealous
of this lady. No screaming kids, no cholos bumping
tha bass, no one in the house to eat your food or
waste your toilet paper or hog the bed.
Walking out to the main drag, I realized what TC was
talking about when she called this area the ghetto.
As soon as you get close to the main drag, there's a
lot of trash on the floor and a liquor store or two on
every block. feels like home. There was one corner
where all these tough looking kids gathered & I had to
walk by them, and i realize that I haven't been in a
situation like that for years and years--mostly
because I know all the tough kids in my area, and I'd
stop to talk to them. heh. I never understood the
fact that where I lived would be looked at as a
"slum," because of the pendelton jackets and cut off
dickies. The hairnets. It was never bad, I always
felt safe, able to relate to them and aware of how
full of it the meanies were. But here, they look
mean. Are they meaner, or are they just foreign to
me? At the same time that i felt fine, whatever,
"home," just figuring out the street names, I felt
so...not white, but just _different_ from the people
who live and work in the neighborhood. I started
thinking about bell hooks, and her fondness of using
the term "black folks." I wonder, if I started to
talk about "raza," would it be an approximation of the
same thing? Someone talking about "their people,"
while at the same time removed fom those people? I
ordered my food in Spanish, without a trace of accent,
because I've never had on. I ordered a veggie
burrito. (which was very tasty and I even ate the
broccoli). Obviously, my position as a 1st generaton
college student is not particular to me. this IS
america, for crying out loud, and the republicans
haven't shut all the colored folk out of education
YET. but I can't help feeling out of place most of
the time. It's something you just learn to live with.
It's ok to observe, but whining about it does not
help. In fact, it infuriates me. There will always
be things to separate people, be it race, gender,
orientation, class, preference for coke or pepsi. I
would like to become a person who does not fear the
reprocussions to myself and my lifestyle because of
others', but that does take work.
Lately I feel like my personal stance tends toward
humanism rather than feminism. I think college has
worn me out with the isms. I just want to be
Elizabeth, listen to indie music while resistng the
indie uniform of a haircurt that is fucked up in
juuust the right way, to match my $57 urban outfitters
ugly ass bile green t-shirt.
ha. It occurs to me that maybe part of the reason I
feel out of place is that I like to be alone and
independent, and groups of people often form from some
desparate neeeeeed for companionship, rather than
affinity or desire for _that person_.