Category: Social justice

One Weekend at Camp: How 40 young people and a horrific injustice softened this blogger’s heart.

This weekend, I spent some time at the Southeastern LGBTQ Activist Camp in Jackson, Mississippi. This yearly gathering is a true example of the sort of coalition- and community-building effort that will be crucial to securing long-lasting progressive victories across the South. Working in concert with the GSA Network, GLBTQ youth organizations from across the South bring young people together for four days of trainings and workshops centered around building power in their communities, agitating against intersectional oppression, and fighting for policies that are inclusive of GLBTQ youth in their schools and their communities. The camp is a mix of rigorous training and lighthearted fun, which are both sorely missing from the lives of GLBTQ youth in the South. Everyone appeared to be getting a lot of mileage out of the camp, and enjoying one of the few safe spaces for GLBTQ youth that exists in the South.

Then the verdict in the Trayvon Martin case came down: George Zimmerman was not guilty.

As Bold As Our Recipe Flavors: Our Progressive Southern Stories Must Be Heard

While I have stressed the importance of southern progressives sharing about our incredible work at the grassroots level in the South, I also know that we need people to listen to us. We cannot shift the narrative if our thoughts and words are not seen or heard because of people perpetuating the negative stereotypes. When people from other regions (or within the South) automatically negate the South and prevent any chance of positivity being seen, we can struggle to share of our work. I have never understood putting a group of people down in any way, and these regional hierarchies form power struggles. How is it helpful to put the South down without offering some form of positive possibility for a situation? So while I want us to push these progressive works out into the rest of the country, I also want the rest of the country to listen to us. For far too long, Southerners voices have been ignored, silenced, or discounted, and we have been left out of the conversation. Listen to us and see all of our work down here, y’all.

Drafting a Narrative as Sweet as Sweet Tea: Progressive Work with Education in the South

The interweaving of education and poverty ring through in perpetuated stereotypes of the South, which I hope to tackle in future blog posts. It is important, though, to get our stories out about our educational institutions that produce great research, our minds that have breakthrough ideas, and our progressive work that is completed. I am not dismissing the stark realities of regional differences. I am not analyzing various arguments about why the South’s realities are what they are in comparison with other regions. I am simply making the case that despite these realities, we must not forget about the beautiful research, education, and progressive work being done here. We must build our progressive narrative from the grassroots, just as we have built the narratives of the glory of sweet tea or a crawfish boil or moonshine.

Our Geography, Our Diversity, Our Narrative

I have been doing a great deal of traveling throughout the Southeast region this year, primarily between Alabama and North Carolina. As I was traveling recently, I began to think about the diversity of geographic features in our region. Invariably geographic features assist in the cultural production of an area. In the South, we have mountain ranges, beaches that span the Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of Mexico, swamps, marshland, farmland, foothills, and a range of geographic essences within each state, county, and town. In these thoughts about geography, I started wondering why people continue to paint the South as a monolithic entity when our population is as diverse as our geographic environment.  

The Cartoon Parade Comes To Town

I’ve been living and organizing in the South (mostly around LGBTQ issues) since 2008.  My friends and family from various parts of the country don’t visit much.  It’s difficult to entice folks to come to Mississippi or Alabama.  It’s not really on the way to a major destination, so folks don’t just pop by.  Interest from family and friends in my work has waxed and waned over the years.  When the work was highly visible (say, a major legal case that made national news) or easy to understand (such as organizing something concrete like a conference or an event) there was interest.  More long-term and difficult to describe work, like youth development and community-building that’s less concrete, doesn’t seem to garner much interest from my loved ones.  That’s perfectly fine with me.  I love my work, and if communities rally around and behind it down here that’s all that matters.

The Westboro Baptist Church and their circus of hate came to town on May 18.  All of a sudden, folks I don’t hear from much were flooding my inbox.  Did I know the group was coming?  What was I planning to do about it?  Did I know of a protest that would be organized?  Was there a place to send money to fund the protest?  Judging from the swell of interest, you’d think that something important was about to happen in my community.

Doing Yoga on the South Lawn

          After two semesters of courses and teaching composition classes, I am finally returning to regularly going to yoga classes. I’m finally returning to doing both yoga and meditation on my own. In these moments I am able to slow down my world, listen to my breath, and focus on what my body is saying to me. After I end my sessions, I return to the world with a renewed, focused mental clarity. I then start thinking on how the lessons I learn in these sessions relate to other aspects of my life, especially with regard to progressive work in the South. I feel like so many progressive folks I have seen, especially while living in Alabama, feel worn down and seem defeated, despite working their damn hardest at times. I wonder, though, what would happen if we started doing more internal reflection, focusing on our local progressive groups’ heartbeats, breaths, intentional inner thoughts.

The Power of Conversation

Most of us experience a variety of conversations on a daily basis without giving a second thought to what exactly we are doing. We share information with others, exchange stories with one another, and engage in dialogue. We can do such through a variety of mediums now, such as in-person and online. While having a conversation is a ubiquitous aspect of our society, we often give little thought about its possible impact and power. Conversations, though, hold powerful implications on abilities to not only affect people’s opinions on issues, but also create a stronger sense of community for organizing efforts.

South Carolina: Stronghold of (HIV) Segregation

South Carolina is the last state in the country to still segregate HIV+ inmates into separate areas, away from HIV- inmates.  The last three states in the nation to continue with this policy were South Carolina, Alabama, and Mississippi.  Alabama’s policy was deemed unconstitutional just last year, after a court battle. Mississippi changed its policy in 2010 after activists and attorneys pressured the Department of Corrections commissioner Christopher Epps to rescind the policy (which he did, very much to his credit).

Segregating HIV+ inmates is bad policy for some pretty obvious reasons.

A Call For Courage

Meagan M. O’Nan is a guest blogger for The South Lawn.  She is a spiritual leader, life coach, and Mississippi native (among many other amazing things).  The original blog piece, a personal narrative that wrestles with coming out in various ways in Mississippi, can be found on Meagan’s blog

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that
something else is more important than fear.”
― Ambrose Redmoon

I have a lot of emotions about today and tomorrow’s Supreme Court hearings getting started. The majority of what I am feeling is anxiety. Anxiety is the combination of fear and excitement wrapped together. I really am hopeful that the fear will subside, so that anticipation and hope can step forward. But that means I have to be willing to see the best in all people: myself, my parents, my family, my friends, the State of Mississippi, and beyond – gay and straight alike. That’s a risk for me, but I am willing to put aside my fears so that the truth of who we really are can seep in.