El Clasismo y La Gringa

Though we had not much, we still had much more.
On special days I dined at the finest of
restaurants, and shopped at the nicest of
shops. Holidays were spent traveling
the longitudinal beauties of the
slender country, seeing much more than the
very children who were born under the
great Andes. I flew over the Andes,
snowboarded on the Andes, horseback rode on
the Andes. I seized the Andes.

On the metro and bus curious eyes
glanced at my fair, distinctive skin, thinking
not that I was American but a
light-skinned Chilena whose fairness reeked of
privilege, whose mestizo blood contained more
of Europe’s bullion, whose pampered body
dwelt on a large house on a hill, whose mind
was educated at institutions of great
prestige. And in the silence of
public transportation it matters not
if such things are actually true. Such is
my image—the apple of the beastly
classist eye. I cringe. Such is my life.*


With a fool's hope,
Bethany Lauren Grigsby


*Poem originally written in fall of 2007

mailbox ponderings

My student mailbox is located right across from the Door of Discussion. I like this because it helps me keep an eye on the things that get posted there (though there hasn't been much at all this year.) It also allows me to inconspicuously eavesdrop on how people react to the Door. Tonight as I was peeping in my box, several boys walked by and I heard the following jovial conversation.

"What is on the door now?"

"I don't know. Dude, why do you read that stuff?"

"Naw, man. I always read what is on here. People say the stupidest things! Like ohhhh I'm gay . . . but like God still loves me."

"Ohh shoot, that's retarded!"

"Yeah, dude!"

As the group walked loudly laughing, I stood staring after them in furious bewilderment.

I am floored by the opinions students voice here. Just when I start to have hope that at least people are open to the conversation, open to the consideration that love can be a reality, I realize that hope is based on my experience with senior sociology majors. Not mainstream APU population. Not the culture of masculinity. Not youth groups or Bible studies. Not anything remotely resembling the forces that will shape my little brothers' understanding of the world. Just those folks who are finally starting to be able to apply the information that has been harpooned at them for the past four years.

I understand that the above dialogue isn't representative of the general consensus on ways to speak of such things. But it is revealing about the kind of environment we allow to flourish. An environment where an otherwise vaugely mismatched group of kids can find easy acceptance and assumed commonality in hatred and marginalization. Why do we just let it happen? Why doesn't anyone care? The senior sociology majors know how to talk in their classes, almost. Why don't they speak when it matters?

I think I need to walk around with a sign on my back at all times that reads "It's not funny." I have no idea in my little head how to convey to people the gravity of their words. No matter how reasonably I argue or how relatable my stories, it can all be blown off and invalidated with the fatal words, "I was just kidding." The discourses of hegemony that permeate our world here at APU (and at home in youth group) must be exposed for what they are. Until we figure out a way to do this, deadly closets will continue to exist and suck in the lives of beautiful community members.

Do you all have any ideas about discourse that reveals the levity of "humor?"