Reading Blogs

I am requiring my students to keep a log of the media they consume, their "media diet." I am trying to do all of the assigned tasks I give to my students, so I've been logging my media intake, and noticed something I do consistently every single day (about twice a day really), I "read" (more like browse) both feministing and perez hilton. Yes, feminism and celebrity gossip. One somehow helps me balance out what I "learn" from the other.

On perezhilton I see how folks like to put themselves out there, expose their body and their selves to intense media and societal scrutiny. Maybe the money is good but you couldn't pay me to show my worst days archived online for the world to see. I don't want my life so exposed.

Today on feministing I read this post, which also got me thinking about exposure. The author, an academic, a graduate student at the end of her studies, but also was a sex worker on the mean streets of New York. She talks about rage and her body. I have never been a sex worker but there are a lot of ways that I connected and and am affected by what she writes.

"Sexual assault causes the body to be an unfriendly environment leading the survivor to at times feel dirty and ashamed. These feelings cause the individual to disconnect from their body entirely ... The words "the scene of the crime" speak volumes in criminal investigations and movies. In the case of sexual assault, despite where the event occurred, the scene of the crime is the body itself. The body then becomes less of a vessel for the spirit, and more of an enemy always reminding them of what they long to forget. Resolution of the sexual assault requires the body to be empowered. Forming a loving relationship between survivors and their bodies will enhance their ability to care for themselves as well as live with less anger and fear ... However, rarely are survivors able to articulate that they feel their body is an enemy."

It takes a tremendous amount of courage to tell such painful, personal and private stories. I want to write a memoir but have not yet granted myself the permission, the patience and the power to share my own pain. She interweaves shame and strength across sentences, and her words are weighing heavy on my emotions. She is very courageous.

She speaks of the disease that has penetrated in her body, causing a "large mass" to attach to her ovary, "white with tangles running through it." How many of us carry heavy, cancerous masses (still unformed) inside of us? How many of us hold our pain and carry for so many years that it materializes into the very real thing that just might kill you. I believe that my Mom lived and died like this.

This piece of her story makes me think of my Mom and the pain she carried throughout her life. I want to tell her story, but I don't want to stir up the mess of old memories. I want to lighten the burden that I carry because so many of my own mistakes and struggles connect to the past and her pain.

I think about this woman's mass, and its tangles attaching and embedding themselves in her body. Is that what happened to my Mom? Her battle with cancer was fought hard and lost over a decade ago, but the pain still resonates. There are some things that never dull or go away.

I carried a manila envelope with the slides of her cancerous cells, for years. I made a short video about it a few years ago, inspired by my friend (and mentor's) memoir, ghostbox. I want to write my own memoir, but I don't (yet) have the courage to confront all of my ghosts.