McDonald's and Gender (both are everywhere)

Just watched my new house-mate's mom and dog wrestle over a sock in their mouths, which I think is good pre-bedtime entertainment. This family lives in a different part of Manhattan - near 96th and Madison - that is completely different than midtown, and downtown. It feels weird to be moved, but also living with Sophia is basically like a 7-night sleepover, complete with long-catching-up talks, nightly massages, and tomorrow, my first run in the city around a reservoir (the reservoir? I'm not sure how many there are).

Along with a new house, I also got a new boss today. Now I have two. They're both great, but this one - Reina - works in the QEJ office (my other boss usually works out of the CUNY), which is really fun. Whereas before I would mostly negotiate conversation in between snippets of audio I was transcribing, Reina checked in on me while I worked, and asked me questions, which made it somehow so much easier to engage in idle chatter and feel like a part of the group. However, the interesting thing about idle chatter in a queer rights organization is that it's never really idle chatter. For instance, Jay, the shelter organizing coordinator, frequently gets McDonalds down the street. Most of the time she gets a kiddie meal, and asks for the boy toy - something I vaguely remember doing when I was young, because they were always better than the girl toys and I was convinced it was a conspiracy against women. This time, her "boy" toy was a blue, curvaceous doll, presumably a character of some sort, and when the doll was plugged into a base, a light attached to her large breasts came on. "This is how they teach little boys to be straight," she said, and the rest of us laughed. Another person, a volunteer, took the doll and flashed it in my face. "Does this make you want to be straight?" He/she/zie asked. "Sure," I said. "So straight." I pointed out that the doll also only lights up when it's attached to its base - that's also how these boys would be taught to treat women. Tie her down and then watch her boobs.

In one conversation, we'd examined gender, oppression and sexualization. Other popular models of conversation include the "laugh at how ridiculous this particular injustice/person is" (a great way of coping/brainstorming debate points/disseminating it all) and "why haven't the floors been redone yet" variations. I don't know if the following is true of all queer rights orgs, but at this one, I've noticed that there are few boundaries. There's teasing, and no uniform dress category, and genuine interest in each other's lives. And today, I felt like a part of it. Or, at least that I could become a part of it. Reina let me know of a bunch of meetings she wants me to go to, as well as queer events in the community. Both she and Michelle have mentioned that they'd like to have me here for the summer, which is so flattering and also impossible, because there's no way I could afford to live in New York for three months.



The day got even better when I attended my first Research Collaborative meeting. Like I mentioned before, I've been transcribing meetings like these for the last week. When the tape recorder came on and Michelle said, "Meeting, Tuesday January 19th," it felt like I was among celebrities. We did a check-in, exchanged updates, and revised the outline to the report, and all along the way I was valued as an equal participant. Because of this, I contributed, and felt good about what I said. Another thing that was brought up in the meeting is that not all of the people who were supposed to go to the Creating Change conference will be able to do so financially, which brought about talk of fundraising. I thought about calling up good old Community High and seeing if my forum might be able to fundraise around one of the most progressive issues out there. I think it would be so bad-ass.

I was exhausted by five o'clock. Sophia (my host) and I meant to go out with friends downtown, but we just couldn't do it. Each time this happens I have a brief case of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) and then get too tired to succumb to it. Sophia promises she's going to make me do tourist-y things, which I haven't gotten around to yet, like visiting museums and Central Park, this week. Meanwhile, her mom is taking the surrogate role seriously and wants me to go to sleep. I think I'll happily oblige.