Saturday, June 18, 2016

The Orlando shooting was part of my world

When my housemate stumbled into the kitchen Sunday morning, ashen and wide-eyed at the news, I expressed to her that this senseless killing was consistently a part of my world already.

Every day, I am observing more clearly that I am exclusion, hatred, and alienation. I walk into the classroom and see Others who are unlike me, incomprehensible, and unapproachable. I feel disconnection and I perpetuate disconnection. And it's only 9am.

I was at first surprised after straight family or friends, with a single exception, chose not to reach out to me. At most an acquaintance would ask me "How are you?" with a bit more emphasis than usual, and perhaps show hesitation as they received a peaceful and joyful answer.

Exclusion is part of this world and knowing it is the first step on the path to freedom from it.

When I was beginning transition nine years ago, a Berkeley Free Clinic trainer explained to volunteers that, should someone draw a firearm in the clinic, "we take him down." As a martial artist, I agree, and I was relieved to learn that this is the official US recommendation for a group of people trapped with an active shooter. In reality, though, exclusion from those around us obstructs this unified protective response. This natural response.

If a mother sees her children's lives threatened, she moves without hesitation to "take down" that threat, even if it costs her her own life. The Teaching on Unconditional Kindness instructs us to love the whole world as if it were our only child. How can I become so connected to those around me, so reverent for life, that I can trust any group I'm with to be right behind me in "taking them down?"

I am taking steps every day. Summer classes started this week, and I was troubled to hear no one reference the violence. Today, just before starting math class, the professor commented on last night's basketball game, drawing the most lively response yet from most of the students. I felt miserably excluded, and during the break, with compassion, let her know how alienating it felt only to hear sports news referenced in such a week. She responded with tears in her eyes that she gets so emotionally affected by violence that she can't mix it with teaching. I felt authentic connection, a worst-case fear of homophobia extinguished, and still, sadness and silence. It was a baby step.

I invite you to set foot on this path to inclusion by connecting with others genuinely and without expectation of anything in return. May you receive the whole world, this precious child.

May we all be safe and protected from inner and outer harm.

Monday, April 25, 2016

An open letter to those who disparage goods "Made in China"

I'd like to invite your attention to the conundrum of wanting to save time and money and not wanting to buy factory items that were "made in China."
I'm sure we're all well-intentioned when we declare the desire to find alternatives to these products, and at the same time I'm aware that we're mostly unwilling to sacrifice the convenience and affordability the global economy provides. I think the humanity of parents who have left the care of their small children to relatives in rural villages in order to earn any wage at all in ShenZhen deserves our attention as well. I was among millions of "left-behind" children in my first years and attest to the brutal reality of this experience, however mitigated by my family's relative wealth.

I've seen the toddler I live with weep and cry uncontrollably when his mother leaves for a few hours -- I can only guess at the impact of having parents gone for years, and what circumstances would drive a parent to make that decision. 

I feel all of these things in the label "Made in China," and I invite you to include a bit more humanity as well -- for our well-intentioned selves as well as poverty-stricken families in rural China.

Posted from my 2008 Lenovo ThinkPad, Made in China

Sunday, March 6, 2016

Breaking up a fist fight

On Friday, while waiting for the bus home, I noticed a woman sitting on the pavement, her belongings spread out around her, chattering to herself in Spanish. This is ordinary enough in the Bay Area that I paid her no mind, reading my newspaper a few feet away.

After a moment, though, her muttering became more vehement and I looked directly at her -- she was trans and some of her comments seemed directed at a Latino with his 3-year-old waiting nearby. Without warning she crawled on all fours several steps, now yammering in English, and got up in the man's face -- she seemed to be accusing him of looking at her "like I'm a man" -- and then bent down to yell at the child. At this the man quietly moved between her and his child, urging her away. She backed off and I went back to my reading, but the next thing I knew she was back at him and he punched her into the side of the bus.

I immediately stepped toward him, hand up and quietly talking -- they separated, fortunately, so I could stay between them. Another bystander approached the woman and was talking her down. The man yelled fiercely at her, ignoring me. Bystanders crowded behind him and shielded his kid and a bus driver yelled about the consequences of police coming (this was at Fruitvale BART). Without missing a beat the man redirected his yelling at me.

I stayed, watching and hearing him, feeling a thousand tiny flames erupt over my arms and upper chest, a contrasting piercing solidity of my heart pounding in the middle of it. I smelled sharp liquor in his breath. Then, as soon as it had begun, it ended: he turned away, the crowd relaxed, and our bus was boarding.

When an emergency calls there is no time for thought, performance, or self-judgment. Indeed, there is no self. I didn't assess the scene for safety, review self-defense options, or plan my words. There wasn't time. What took place was my confidence, skills, and presence as they were, however imperfect or inadequate, existing in that place and time.

In taekwondo, where kicking and striking are common, comfortable fighting distance is measured in feet and spans at least a leg-length. In hapkido and other "soft" arts, it's much closer, measured in inches, and keeping contact is essential for controlling the opponent. People learn self-defense in order to confront an "enemy." The alternative is to panic -- running away or breaking down (mentally running away) or overreacting and possibly escalating conflict. I think the practice that took place for me on Friday was this turning toward and facing violence without fear or anger. I think agency in that moment came from touching my heart with his.

What would I have done if he had tried to hit or grab me? Had he expressed transphobia? Did my presence deflate his alcohol-fueled fury? Could I have intervened sooner to calm the woman? I don't know; it did not realize that way.

It's enough for me to know there is ugliness and terrible suffering in the world. In the alcoholic man's family and in the woman's anger and neglect, there is so much healing needed. It's all I can do to be present with what is and to bring whatever I have. When there is pain, hatred, greed -- whatever your kryptonite -- advance toward it, get closer, and meet it with whatever you have. I trust that every person in that crowd could have done this. I trust that you can do this and are already doing it in some ways.

May all be safe and protected from inner and outer harm. May all be surrounded by and filled with unconditional kindness. May our hearts open.

Monday, February 22, 2016

The enemy is white supremacy: on Peter Liang's manslaughter conviction

This week my mother has been following protests following Peter Liang's conviction in the shooting death of Akai Gurley. Never one for following current events with more attention than the evening newscast, she did not distinguish between injustice against one race group and injustice against all oppressed groups. To her, the protest against the jury's verdict (and indeed, the initial indictment) was a protest against racism in general.

I am proud that Peter Liang was convicted. He will serve time in the prison system alongside millions of black and Latino men including former police. The white supremacy of America's criminal justice institution has earned the attention of Asian- and Pacific Islander-Americans, like my mom, for the first time on this scale.* This is an opportunity to demand, alongside black Americans, the end of white privilege, not to demand that Liang be accorded white privilege alongside white police officers.

Thich Nhat Hanh wrote, "Enduring suffering in love and awareness can erase the bitter hatred of a thousand lifetimes." There is no one or group of people to hate here: the unjust conditions including white supremacy, post-slavery poverty (leading to the unsafe and unlit state of Gurley's residence), police favoritism in criminal courts, unwholesome NYPD culture contributed to Gurley's death and Liang's mistakes. They contributed to the unjust killings and serial non-indictments of so many cases galvanizing Black Lives Matter. Let every one of us suffering under these unnecessary and destructive conditions be aware of Gurley's family's suffering and of Liang's suffering alongside our own.

Can we be aware of not only loud suffering but the years and generations of quiet suffering? And can we hold our suffering in community with love and confidence that what people have created, people can and must dismantle? More and more white people are learning about and preparing to give up their privilege. What privilege are you ready to recognize in your place in society, and are you ready to give it up?

Not being black is a privilege in America. Not being immigrant, especially recognizably so, is a privilege in America. Are you ready to give up those privileges to relieve the suffering of others, and ultimately your own? This is the conversation and the practice we deserve to be sharing with each other as people of color.

* Interesting reading about the history of non-solidarity among Asians in America.

Monday, November 23, 2015

Interview with my martial arts teacher, part 1

Let's start with this real-talk letter to the editor of the Economist newspaper from their November 14th issue.
A human army 
As a serviceman I read your article on the problems for army recruitment in America with interest (“Who will fight the next war?”, October 24th). Through games, movies and political pandering, we have cast the average American soldier as a hardened commando. This gives politicians leeway to make extreme claims about our military effectiveness while cutting our fighting strength. The result is a smaller force with higher expectations.
America’s troops should combat their status as idols. Perhaps making us seem a little more human will bring in more recruits who “don’t like the violence”, and undercut the idea that our military should be our primary instrument of foreign policy. --- SHAWN COOPER, Enterprise, Alabama
I've always been the idealist in every group I can remember. As a teenager I refused to buy new products and take car rides unnecessarily, patching clothes and biking to school. I want to document the unique and fleeting phenomenon of a martial arts club I trained with from '07-'09, in which I began to learn not only how to use my changing body and male presence but to avoid violent situations and to de-escalate street violence. Here is the first part of this month's interview with my teacher.

[begin interview]

Q Introduce yourself, who are you?

J I'm Jacob Fisher, and, let's see, how long have I known you?

Q Wow! Okay, this is a story I did want to tell. We met in 2008, in the beginning of the summer I think. When Triangle Martial Arts Association had a self-defense seminar at the LGBT Center for trans people. [Note: The reason for my excitement is that Jacob is one of only two people I've known for eight years, not counting family, who is still a regular part of my life.]

J Ah, that's right.

Q Yeah, and it was big! It was a really big room, it was full of trans people, it was really awesome!

J It was. Yeah, we had a few people come up and you came up afterwards, didn't you?

Q Yeah.

J And then you went away... and then you came back.

Q Yeah, I went to Camp Trans pretty much right after meeting you. It's funny because I remember Grand Master Ken Craig saw my Swarthmore t-shirt and pointed out that you had also gone there! ... and we never brought it up again so I actually forgot about that connection until this year. [Ken Craig was the founder of Triangle Martial Arts Association.]

J [laughing]

Q At Camp Trans I decided that I was going to do medical transition and started T pretty much the same time that you started Eureka Valley Taekwondo Club. How would you describe Triangle and Eureka Valley to our readers?

J Triangle Martial Arts Association was a club that was founded after Matthew Shepard was murdered. And it was specifically to provide a safe space for gay people to train in self defense and martial arts. I joined in 2001, and started with taekwondo and then, after I got my black belt, I started training in hapkido with Triangle, got my black belt in hapkido, and then I took over the hapkido club. 

I also started a taekwondo club within Triangle Martial Arts Association focused on trans people. It was open to everyone, but I wanted to have a space that felt safe and welcoming and open for trans people. The reason was because I transitioned before joining Triangle and no one knew that I was trans. Then I had a friend in the club who transitioned while he was in the club and things didn't go smoothly for him. It was a very difficult experience for him. And I think that a lot of the people didn't realize that they were making this other person suffer by how they were treating him. I didn't want other trans people to go through that with Triangle because the whole idea of Triangle was to be a safe, welcoming space. So that bothered me that that was happening. 

So I had many talks with Ken about it, and argued about it a little bit because he didn't think it was necessary, but after talking about it with him more he understood how it could feel unsafe and how comments that he saw as innocent could be very hurtful to someone who was trans. And then of course he was incredibly supportive and ... he came to class occasionally [laughs] and worked out with us and was a visible presence. So that's how Eureka Valley started. And it went on for a couple years? a few years...

Q At least two years.

J Yeah, and the goal... Ken, I think, sort of saw it as a feeding ground to the regular Triangle classes and I didn't see it that way at all. I wanted it to be its own thing, and of course in my fantasies there was a large group of trans folks who were incredible martial artists coming and having big huge demonstrations which... it didn't quite work out that way... but that was my fantasy.

But it lasted for a few years, which is good for a martial arts club. It was always pretty small and had a low student-instructor ratio, which is nice. We did do some cool things. We did more than one self-defense seminar for the trans community. I think the one you went to was the best, it was the biggest one. And it's always nice to have a large group -- it was very large even for the -- we would regularly do seminars just for the LGBT community, not specifically trans focused. But that was one of the larger, more successful ones. One of the things that makes them work is when people are open and contribute; they don't just sit there. People were engaged in it, which was fun and nice to see. And then we were at a couple of the Trans Marches at Dolores Park and we had a demonstration one year.

Those things were all really cool and good for [trans] visibility. The other thing I thought was important was to get trans people, regardless of whether they joined or not, thinking about being safer and self defense.

[See my comment at the bottom.] 

Q Something you said made me think about risk. It was a risk for you to come out to Ken in order to point out that there was a real injustice being done. And we think about risk in a really deep and a really real way in conversations that we've had in the middle of figuring out techniques. I'm just wondering if you have anything to say about that, like whether your attitude about risk has changed through your martial arts practice or what the role is, in your life, of martial arts training and your assessment of risk.

J I think, for me, the biggest thing about Triangle's approach to martial arts, the thing I appreciate the most, is that the physical stuff was secondary, the primary thing was the student and helping them to become more of who they are.

Let's say you have someone who is overly aggressive. The instructors as a group would actively work to help them to control some of that within class. And also sometimes, some of the senior instructors would talk to them: "Hey, so is that really working for you?" outside of class. And we have had several people who were able to see that connection of, "Oh, I changed how I was behaving in class, and it was better. It worked better. Now I'm going to change, make those same changes to how I'm behaving outside of class," not in a physical situation, but just interpersonally.

Q Wow.

J And "Oh, that was a positive change, too." So that's what I think was the best thing, most powerful thing about Triangle.

Q Are you talking about... at the level of arrogance? Or like, what kind of behaviors?

J No, bigger than that, like substance abuse.

Q Okay.

J So yeah! [laughs] there were some people with some really big problems that came to Triangle. And many who were helped significantly. And it wasn't something that maybe most students would be aware of, so that would be something quieter, behind the scenes and a lot of times it was Ken specifically working with someone because people would come to him. They would come to me sometimes. Because you start to become, sometimes... an authority figure, a parental figure, as an instructor, and sometimes people bring you personal problems. You have to have good boundaries.

[Note: Jacob had very strong boundaries as my instructor in Triangle. He was one of the toughest teachers I've had, including Chinese ones. I don't remember ever exchanging any small talk. In fact, I'm not sure I ever saw him laugh. At the time it was helpful for me to see strong boundaries modeled. Now, I'm exploring my classical Chinese-influenced relationship with student and teacher roles.]

It can be tricky sometimes with boundaries and knowing where and how to effectively draw them. So I kinda got off-topic there, but [laughs] Triangle was more interested in the person as a whole than a lot of other schools are.

Q Hm. Yeah, I do think of Triangle as a tremendous resource, and because martial arts touches on so many aspects of the practitioner's life.

J Yeah. And the other thing I want to add to that is that, you know, that's my take on it, and a lot of other students didn't see those layers and those layers weren't what was important to them, and in effect, that didn't exist for them. But for some people, it did. So it's kind of a weird thing, that's the other cool thing about Triangle for me was that it *was* what you made of it.

And your original question was about risk, and so I think that for me it was always about becoming more of who I am, and that always involves a risk, right? ... I think. So that's how they're related. [laughs]

Q Thanks.

J For me, starting a new club is a big deal. I don't believe it would have happened if I hadn't asked for it; certainly it wouldn't have come from above. So I'm glad I took that risk. I think it was worth it. [laughs]

Q It was worth it for me.

Also on the topic of risk... when I worked for TRANS: THRIVE, a local trans resource center, we had a documentary at the Frameline LGBT film festival. So I got to introduce the film by saying a little bit about TRANS: THRIVE. And one of the things I said was that we had support groups including a support group for trans men of color. And in this theater of I don't know how many hundreds of people, there was shouting and cheering and clapping, and it was a huge show of support, and ... almost no one showed up to this support group month after month.

J Yeah... That's how I felt with Eureka Valley Taekwondo Club. It was like, "Surely people must be excited about this!" They would be, but then it's hard to get people to show up.

Q Do you have thoughts about what is going on?

J [laughs] Why that should be? Action is always... you know, it's easy to clap and cheer for something and it's harder to get people to follow up, no matter what it is, I've found. There's a lot to do...

Q [laughs] [Note: I think this is a common, weak excuse for indecision and poor self-care. I've used it plenty when I was sicker, and now I am much clearer about my priorities and intentions. Let's live this one precious life like we mean it.]

J ... in the city. People are busy. There aren't that many people who are willing to give up that much of their time on a weekly basis, ongoing. And then some people try it, and they're like, "Oh, it's not quite what I thought it was," and then they stop... and... yeah.

Q I mean, Triangle had their own version of this challenge, right? There wasn't enough support because it... Oh! We should point out that this was a volunteer-run club. No one was paid for any of the time. Right?

J Yup, that is correct. In fact, Ken spent quite a bit of money out of pocket to run the club. Yeah, nobody made any money. Money went to renting a space and buying supplies for tests, things like that. Yeah, running a martial arts club is often not a profitable experience.

The club I'm in now, the same thing. The instructor, who is, in fact, the head of the system, so not only does he lead the club, he is the head of the entire art, pays money out of pocket to pay the rent each month. You would think that the head of a system would have people flocking to come train with him. [laughs]

Even though Triangle, I thought, and from what I've seen from the martial arts world, placed a very strong emphasis good teaching, so the instruction was pretty good, I'd say, removing myself from the equation. [laughing]

Q Although you were a student as well.

J That's true, I was a student as well. Good instructors teaching solid stuff. The other thing is that there are plenty of martial arts clubs here. Triangle was one of the very few that was specifically self-described as gay friendly. But it's not like you couldn't go to another club and be gay, although, when Triangle first started, that was not the case, even in the Bay Area. And there were even people who would exclude people... if they found out you were gay you couldn't train with them anymore, because they were afraid you were going to "give them AIDS". [His quotes]

Q Wow.

J Specifically, I mean actually, literally, people got kicked out for that.

Q In the nineties?!

J Yes.

Q Wow. That's... disgusting.

J Yeah. Ignorant and disgusting. But, you know, at the same time, you do have to be aware that we did have HIV-positive people within Triangle. You do bleed -- occasionally. Much less than in the club where I'm training now; we bleed a lot more often.

Q Oh my.

J And no one knows *anything* ... you start bleeding, you're bleeding on someone else's uniform, on someone else's body, and they don't stop.

Q [wails]

J So... I've often been the one to be like, "Oh, someone's bleeding, let's stop and cover it." And then the person'd be like, "Oh no, it's fine." I'd be like, "No! We're going to cover it."

Q [groans]

J [laughs] So there is a complete lack of awareness about infectious disease control.

Q [makes face]

J Yeah. [laughs] I'm also concerned about MRSA, frankly. [laughs]

Q Yeah... risk! [laughs]

J Yeah, more risk! [laughs]

[end interview excerpt]

Triangle was always inclusive of everyone, and people sometimes question the need for exclusive learning environments. The tool of oppression is invisible: most learning environments are designed by and maintained by people of privilege in the privileged culture -- in America, white, middle and upper class, straight, and cis-male. It's when we intentionally identify marginalized identities and cultures to define the learning environment that it becomes truly accessible to members of those groups. It's nearly impossible for privileged people, without help, to see how the environment obstructs learning for others.

One easy way to open up the learning environment is for the most powerful positions, teachers and board members, to be filled by members of those groups. I love that Jacob, through effort and persistence, was able to help Ken address his own limitations. I know a lot of trans people and people of color have burned out or become aversive to making similar efforts in their communities. Sometimes I still find myself in that place. It's because those communities are so important to us, rather than unimportant, that the process can be so difficult.

I offer this shared experience of Triangle and Eureka Valley as inspiration to those who continue to see ignorance in their communities, to be open to opportunities as they arise. Knowing from moment to moment what you have in you, what is worth risking for the well-being of our communities? Can we ever completely separate our personal well-being from that of our communities?

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Teaser: Interview with my martial arts teacher

I'm working on upcoming posts of an interview with Jacob Fisher, my martial arts teacher. In 2007 He started a transgender-friendly taekwondo club within a gay-focused group called Triangle Martial Arts Association.

Here's a brief audio excerpt.

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Park review: Mount Diablo from North Gate

I want to share a bike-and-hike route I just discovered. It's autumn and the hills are deep in quiet. I looked for amorous tarantulas, but didn't spot any.

From Pleasant Hill BART Station, follow the little signs to Iron Horse Trail. You have to cross Treat to what looks like a driveway. You can also take the spectacular pedestrian bridge over Treat.

Keep heading south, away from BART until the first trail crossing. Turn left onto Contra Costa Canal Trail. It's well marked and there are few street crossings before Bancroft. This is a major street with generous bike lane most of the way; turn right onto it. It's a long, straight shot to a small roundabout. Bikes easily use the sidewalk, on which we're allowed at this intersection. Turn right, then left onto North Gate Road to Mount Diablo. This leads all the way to the summit.

I prefer to pull off at any of a handful of trailheads and hike. It's hard to find a post narrow enough to fit a U-lock around, though. There are group campgrounds most of the way to the summit.
Lovely lichens on a pock-weathered rock face
The hills along this first section of North Gate are mostly exposed. To find trees you will have to head south to Barbecue Terrace Trail and the like. Instead, my legs got a workout climbing Burma Trail north of the road. Descent the same way was worth avoiding -- I looped up to Juniper and Summit Trails. Still, 2000+ feet gain got me a cooling breeze and a sense of accomplishment!

Right now water is turned off due to drought. This is a major obstacle to my being able to camp there! Enjoy your park explorations.
I think I found emu tracks.