There’s a new normal, or at least there will be. I’ve come from a generation of people who sensed a change in the winds but failed to fully shift course. This is bigger than a movement–bigger than one box of transgressions. Where we are now is actually larger than a revolution: it’s evolution. For centuries the words “male,” “female,” “gender,” and so many other now triggering words meant very clear things, or at least we were told it was so.
People younger than me were born with an innate distrust of authority, but not in the punk rock rebellious nature of their grandparents. They are the offspring of generations of folks who’ve been lied to repeatedly about what they could do, how much money they’ll earn, and what heaven they might gain admission to if only they’d believed. Many believe in the almighty dollar and the god noted at the top. But, they do so on their own terms.
They’re also fuck-ups, like us all.
More than anything, they challenge our institutions and wake up those around them, including myself. I had never thought about gender until I was faced with somebody who outright rejected the notion. They thought of gender how I think of race–a construct meant to oppress one group and elevate the other.
Of course they’re right, but so many people have been right long before the world could accept them or their thoughts. Just because they’re right–and there’s a growing dialogue and understanding surrounding the notions of gender, and, at it’s core humanity–does not mean we’ve arrived at some pre-determined destination.
In reality, because they are right, many are scared–especially those who have a grip on our institutions. It, amongst other things, has contributed to a global culture war. Because the people who’ve run this world for the past 40 years are not happy with their creation, and much like God in the stories of Noah, they are willing to burn it down and start over.
I’ve digressed, which may or may not be a theme for this site. It would be easy to pontificate about the world and my opinions and thoughts on the largest scale possible. I’m a historian, an educator, and cis-white male born in 1982, all attributes which generally allow their possessor a self-assigned permission to say whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want, regardless of consequence. But I will try to do and be my best. I live in the South, though I was originally born in Florida, I now live in North Carolina. My perspective is of course skewed by these and other attributes and I do not plan to excuse or deny any of it. I don’t plan to edit much, other than that which would keep any reader from questioning the integrity of anybody who has ever taken the time to explain thought or writing to me.
Like many blogs, this will be incredibly myopic and often selfish. I believe in writing to learn and, frankly, I’ve got an awful lot of learning to do. I enjoy writing more than most things but I’ve really struggled with what that means in my life. There’s so much I don’t know about writing that I will either learn along the way or toss out the theoretical window. Some rules, after all, are doomed to not matter as much. For instance, this post is already too long. I don’t really care. Break it up. Come back to it later. I believe in short, simple sentences–not short, simple thoughts.
I cannot avoid the topic of gender or of masculinity because it is at the core of our problems, or at least that’s the thought I cannot shake. My inner dialogue is a bastard. It’s rarely kind to me. It often persecutes any notion of self-respect or love. Just like the rise of the nerds in the 90s and 00s vindicated every glasses-wearing child, the me-too movement, as an unintended and frankly unnecessary side-effect, has allowed those of us who were once taunted with feminine and queer terms of abuse to feel slightly more comfortable.
That is not to say that we are blameless, which is why I feel the need to share my thoughts and experiences. We have to work through this–I have to work through this. This is the point, whether or not anybody cares to read.
Anthony Sadler 