The View From Here

This morning I had an argument with my BF and it did not go well. No surprise. Also no surprise that the argument started at point A and ended up at point Z or what I'd call "planet mars." My poor BF, he had no idea what hit him (metaphorically of course) but neither did I. By the end of the argument, I found myself standing alone in the middle of the living room with tears threatening to stream from my eyes, and eventually they did. The feelings that arose were a powerful potion of regret, anger, sadness and perplexity as to my teaching experience in China in 92-93. As some people know, I was interrogated in China in 1993 and my visa was unexpectedly cancelled because I allegedly broke the law. Later, Chinese officials admitted that they "may have made a mistake" which is pretty much an outright confession for having done something wrong and being sorry for it. For years I always believed that what I set out to do in China came out of a sincere desire to

Over pancakes and eggs, me and my BF had a conversation about the use of language and who gets to use what words, is there a double standard and even if I could use a charged word like the "N" word in a legit context, should I? Then there were musings and questions about assimilation and acculturation, and what would I have preferred growing up? Pretty intense for a morning chat; however it's pretty typical for us as two people who work within a university setting - him as a professor and me as a counselor. Soon enough, my feelings got in the way of my thinking rationally or being empathetic as I began to go from conversing to arguing with my BF of nearly 14 years. You'd think we would know (or at least me) by now to not walk into this quagmire of talking about race, language, privilege, and power. What was both interesting and disturbing to me is that how my emotions are still just right under the surface when it comes to diversity, racism, Whiteness, power, and