Take me home, country roads.
Aug. 30th, 2009 04:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trenchkamenMy family is very staunchly Middle American. I don't mean middle class or blue collar or anything like that. For generations, my ancestors lived in Oklahoma and Texas. It was my parents--and by consequence, me--that left, returning for eight years to the Texas Panhandle from my kindergarten through seventh grade years. This is not to say at all that my family is the stereotype of ill-educated and all-around ignorant that seems to be associated with that part of the country. They're by-and-large extremely conservative (maybe not quite as much as I used to think when I was younger), but the men (I am proud to say my mother, my cousin, and myself are the powerhouse, independent women) are all well-educated and have professional vocations. They're all well-traveled. My great-grandfather learned architecture as a trade (note back then, college was not the default way to get into a trade). My grandfathers are both engineers, and one is also a lawyer. One uncle is a lawyer; the other is a software engineer. My parents are both physicians. They were all born and raised in Eastern Oklahoma (with the exception of my great-grandfather; I think he is a second-generation German immigrant who lived in Texas before moving to Oklahoma).
So I can say with confidence I did not come from a family that lives in the trailer park and shoots at raccoons on a Saturday afternoon. But they are still, all of them (my mother least of all), very much a product of their heritage. We all are. I do not deny that I am. My father and uncle are rather rabidly nationalistic, and I would not have any problem seeing my male cousin joining the Minutemen (yes, the border patrol vigilantes). They take a common-sense racism I find abhorent. I can't stand the racism, the sexism, the homophobia, the aversion to anything liberal or "politically correct". It's all in the guise of common sense, always. But in their own way they watch out for their own, even me, a wayward soul in their eyes.
I like my uncle okay, even though we don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of issues. He seems to think Ted Nugent (yes, the "Cat Scratch Fever" guy) has it Right when it comes to gun control--his birth certificate is his concealed-carry permit, and The Man has no right to take it from him. And that, I can understand. Fuck the Man.
Maybe this is why I am pro-gun. I know what it's like living out in the ass-fuck middle of nowhere, at least half an hour from any sort of police aid. It's primal. You watch out for your own, or you die. And you can't rely on anybody else. Maybe that's contributed to my independent streak and my need to be able to defend myself. That is something I always want to take with me and I cherish. Fuck the Man. He won't protect you. Nobody will but yourself in the end. In the end we all stand alone. I want to be wild and free, just restrained by the Golden Rule, or the Wiccan Rede, or however you choose to interpret this universal philosophy: and it harm none, do what you will.
Now I'm back on The Outside. And looking back inside, it's strange.
In Kafka on the Shore Murakami said that we are a product of where we are born and raised, that we will always want to return to that atmosphere. I was born in Honolulu. I left when I was two. Maybe this is why I love the ocean, a multi-cultural city, regular rain, Asian influences. I lived in Arizona from then until I was five. It is then we moved to Texas.
This is not something I have ever really discussed with anybody, but it's for me, even, true, and I hope I can illustrate some of the power of place and culture on all of us. When I lived in Pampa I went through a period as a born-again Christian, influenced by my peers. Granted, I was somewhere in the age range of 5-8 at the time, but it still stands. Hell sounded scary, and even independent little me wanted to feel some semblance of connection. I had another experience in third grade after reading the Chick tract The Tycoon, which, quite frankly, scared the fuck out of me, and convinced me to re-convert. (For the record, I now think Jack Chick is a raving loon and a hoot.) Some chick had given it to me when I was sitting by myself in an Amarillo park, reading a book, during my sister's soccer game. I recall this conversation quite clearly. She asked me if I was Saved, and I said I thought I was. She said Jesus really loved me, and wanted me to go to heaven. That sounds nice, especially to an alienated, strange, eccentric kid--somebody loves and accepts me. And I lived in that reality for so long, that Southern Baptist world--a few years is an eternity to a kid. I remember during a family trip to Hawaii I would not even step into a Buddhist temple we visited because Jesus would probably send me to hell. There was a Tri-State Fair ride that played Marilyn Manson music; I screamed real loud so I wouldn't hear it and Jesus wouldn't send me to hell.
I'm ashamed of myself as a child. And yet, I have to accept that is who I was, what I was, and what I experienced. I am a human, not immune to sociological forces. It is humbling, but true. I've been there.
That Jesus phase lasted I think about two years, dying off sometime around fifth grade. I was entering adolescence. I had always been something of a feminist (I always wanted to be an inventor, even as a little kid), but it started to become more militant. I was seeking out my territory. My mind was maturing. I was reading things that were more mature as well. I was getting deeply involved in anime and manga. I was beginning to become aware of my own sexuality, and by about seventh grade, I had realized that I was attracted to men--but I was attracted to women, too. I could no longer take things at face value. Before I developed a backbone sometime around seventh grade (that was a hell of a year; I started watching Shoujo Kakmuei Utena fansubs religiously on those old purple VHS tapes, and it was instrumental in my awakening), I just lied and said I was Saved when asked to get people off my back. I also knew they took it upon themselves to save me, because they cared about me, and in their Reality, I was going to hell otherwise. It's a delicate situation. But I was becoming spiritual and not religious, radically socially liberal instead of a child who just took most things as they were.
And yes, the things I read, watched, and played were a huge influence on this. They were my break in the provential reality in which I had been stuck for so long. They were the Outside World to me.
This is the way I turned out. I don't believe in the Judeo-Christian concept of God. I am agnostic (leaning atheist), a scientist, a social liberal. An iconoclast. Pro-choice, pro-feminism, pro-gay marriage; pro-gun and deeply disillusioned with the government. The Bible is just a book--a fascinating book, worthy of study, historically-aligned and a source of ancient law while at the same time misogynist and hostile to inquiry. I love art that offends peoples' arbitrary sensibilities just because it can, just because people need to be shaken up and offended sometimes. Just for the hell of it. Just to be obnoxious. Just to cause a stir. Just to be liberal. Just to fuck the status quo.
I get a sick pleasure out of Trolling people who used to be exactly like me.
I'm used to feeling like I'm straddling two worlds. Science and art, studiousness and capriciousness, independence and justice. But I think everybody feels like that to a degree.
All of the places I want to go for graduate school are West Coast bastions of liberalism. I've visited all of these places (except Seattle), and every time I go back, I feel like I'm going Home. I know these places have their glaring flaws, but every place on this planet does. It's just a question of which flaws you can most easily stomach. It's such a far cry from the reality I knew growing up, my childhood, where I become an adolescent, where I learned how fully and truly I did not belong there.
It is no secret that I harbor no lost love for the Texas Panhandle or Eastern Oklahoma on principle. I have zero desire to ever move back. Yet, I will always associate it with childhood, and the universal childhood experiences and joys. I found and lost God. I experienced my first sort-of crush. I came into my own. I realized it was okay to be a social outcast. I grew stronger through that, stronger than I ever had to here in Arizona. People loved me, but they didn't love ME, the me I had to hide to be accepted. They'd love the sinner and hate my sins. Those sins are part of me. I loved them.
In that way, it's always going to be home to me.
But it means I know that I'm an outsider when I'm home.
And it's okay. I've come to terms with that.
John Denver idealized the return to his providential lifestyle. He was singing about going home. It's a simple, universal song. In the Japanese version of "Country Roads" used in 耳をすませば / Whispers of the Heart, the singer acknowledges that she can never go home, no matter how much she wants to.
Compare:
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads
And (translated):
Country road
Even though this road continues to my hometown
I just can't go, I can't go
Country road
Country road
Tomorrow, the me I always am
I want to go back, but I can't, farewell
Country road
Both versions of the song speak strongly to me. Both are equally true to me.
And I don't think that's ever going to change.
So I can say with confidence I did not come from a family that lives in the trailer park and shoots at raccoons on a Saturday afternoon. But they are still, all of them (my mother least of all), very much a product of their heritage. We all are. I do not deny that I am. My father and uncle are rather rabidly nationalistic, and I would not have any problem seeing my male cousin joining the Minutemen (yes, the border patrol vigilantes). They take a common-sense racism I find abhorent. I can't stand the racism, the sexism, the homophobia, the aversion to anything liberal or "politically correct". It's all in the guise of common sense, always. But in their own way they watch out for their own, even me, a wayward soul in their eyes.
I like my uncle okay, even though we don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of issues. He seems to think Ted Nugent (yes, the "Cat Scratch Fever" guy) has it Right when it comes to gun control--his birth certificate is his concealed-carry permit, and The Man has no right to take it from him. And that, I can understand. Fuck the Man.
Maybe this is why I am pro-gun. I know what it's like living out in the ass-fuck middle of nowhere, at least half an hour from any sort of police aid. It's primal. You watch out for your own, or you die. And you can't rely on anybody else. Maybe that's contributed to my independent streak and my need to be able to defend myself. That is something I always want to take with me and I cherish. Fuck the Man. He won't protect you. Nobody will but yourself in the end. In the end we all stand alone. I want to be wild and free, just restrained by the Golden Rule, or the Wiccan Rede, or however you choose to interpret this universal philosophy: and it harm none, do what you will.
Now I'm back on The Outside. And looking back inside, it's strange.
In Kafka on the Shore Murakami said that we are a product of where we are born and raised, that we will always want to return to that atmosphere. I was born in Honolulu. I left when I was two. Maybe this is why I love the ocean, a multi-cultural city, regular rain, Asian influences. I lived in Arizona from then until I was five. It is then we moved to Texas.
This is not something I have ever really discussed with anybody, but it's for me, even, true, and I hope I can illustrate some of the power of place and culture on all of us. When I lived in Pampa I went through a period as a born-again Christian, influenced by my peers. Granted, I was somewhere in the age range of 5-8 at the time, but it still stands. Hell sounded scary, and even independent little me wanted to feel some semblance of connection. I had another experience in third grade after reading the Chick tract The Tycoon, which, quite frankly, scared the fuck out of me, and convinced me to re-convert. (For the record, I now think Jack Chick is a raving loon and a hoot.) Some chick had given it to me when I was sitting by myself in an Amarillo park, reading a book, during my sister's soccer game. I recall this conversation quite clearly. She asked me if I was Saved, and I said I thought I was. She said Jesus really loved me, and wanted me to go to heaven. That sounds nice, especially to an alienated, strange, eccentric kid--somebody loves and accepts me. And I lived in that reality for so long, that Southern Baptist world--a few years is an eternity to a kid. I remember during a family trip to Hawaii I would not even step into a Buddhist temple we visited because Jesus would probably send me to hell. There was a Tri-State Fair ride that played Marilyn Manson music; I screamed real loud so I wouldn't hear it and Jesus wouldn't send me to hell.
I'm ashamed of myself as a child. And yet, I have to accept that is who I was, what I was, and what I experienced. I am a human, not immune to sociological forces. It is humbling, but true. I've been there.
That Jesus phase lasted I think about two years, dying off sometime around fifth grade. I was entering adolescence. I had always been something of a feminist (I always wanted to be an inventor, even as a little kid), but it started to become more militant. I was seeking out my territory. My mind was maturing. I was reading things that were more mature as well. I was getting deeply involved in anime and manga. I was beginning to become aware of my own sexuality, and by about seventh grade, I had realized that I was attracted to men--but I was attracted to women, too. I could no longer take things at face value. Before I developed a backbone sometime around seventh grade (that was a hell of a year; I started watching Shoujo Kakmuei Utena fansubs religiously on those old purple VHS tapes, and it was instrumental in my awakening), I just lied and said I was Saved when asked to get people off my back. I also knew they took it upon themselves to save me, because they cared about me, and in their Reality, I was going to hell otherwise. It's a delicate situation. But I was becoming spiritual and not religious, radically socially liberal instead of a child who just took most things as they were.
And yes, the things I read, watched, and played were a huge influence on this. They were my break in the provential reality in which I had been stuck for so long. They were the Outside World to me.
This is the way I turned out. I don't believe in the Judeo-Christian concept of God. I am agnostic (leaning atheist), a scientist, a social liberal. An iconoclast. Pro-choice, pro-feminism, pro-gay marriage; pro-gun and deeply disillusioned with the government. The Bible is just a book--a fascinating book, worthy of study, historically-aligned and a source of ancient law while at the same time misogynist and hostile to inquiry. I love art that offends peoples' arbitrary sensibilities just because it can, just because people need to be shaken up and offended sometimes. Just for the hell of it. Just to be obnoxious. Just to cause a stir. Just to be liberal. Just to fuck the status quo.
I get a sick pleasure out of Trolling people who used to be exactly like me.
I'm used to feeling like I'm straddling two worlds. Science and art, studiousness and capriciousness, independence and justice. But I think everybody feels like that to a degree.
All of the places I want to go for graduate school are West Coast bastions of liberalism. I've visited all of these places (except Seattle), and every time I go back, I feel like I'm going Home. I know these places have their glaring flaws, but every place on this planet does. It's just a question of which flaws you can most easily stomach. It's such a far cry from the reality I knew growing up, my childhood, where I become an adolescent, where I learned how fully and truly I did not belong there.
It is no secret that I harbor no lost love for the Texas Panhandle or Eastern Oklahoma on principle. I have zero desire to ever move back. Yet, I will always associate it with childhood, and the universal childhood experiences and joys. I found and lost God. I experienced my first sort-of crush. I came into my own. I realized it was okay to be a social outcast. I grew stronger through that, stronger than I ever had to here in Arizona. People loved me, but they didn't love ME, the me I had to hide to be accepted. They'd love the sinner and hate my sins. Those sins are part of me. I loved them.
In that way, it's always going to be home to me.
But it means I know that I'm an outsider when I'm home.
And it's okay. I've come to terms with that.
John Denver idealized the return to his providential lifestyle. He was singing about going home. It's a simple, universal song. In the Japanese version of "Country Roads" used in 耳をすませば / Whispers of the Heart, the singer acknowledges that she can never go home, no matter how much she wants to.
Compare:
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads
And (translated):
Country road
Even though this road continues to my hometown
I just can't go, I can't go
Country road
Country road
Tomorrow, the me I always am
I want to go back, but I can't, farewell
Country road
Both versions of the song speak strongly to me. Both are equally true to me.
And I don't think that's ever going to change.
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-30 11:49 pm (UTC)I digress.
Utena was probably the anime that brought me out of the shell I was in, too. I knew I had attraction to men as well as women since... oh god... dunno when, but I didn't have the backbone to admit that until college sophomore when I made a friend who is actually bi. That actually made me feel relieved that I'm not alone, selfish as it sounds. Not all of my friends know, though. Lol, some of my friends had this image of gay men being flamboyant, high-pitched, nice guy. "I like my gay friend. Gay guy's so nice!" <-Somehow that bothered me. Because I know that's not true, since I'm not nice, and I like guys. Well... I'm not 100% gay, so :p
Now on to home.
First off... wow! You were born in Hawaii!? :D
Second. as far as I know, my family has been moving around. First they left from Burma to Hong Kong, then to Taiwan. (I wasn't born yet until they moved to Taiwan, however) Then to Texas, then Baltimore. I really wanted to set my root in Texas because that's where I went to my middle and high school. That was a major timeline of my life, even if most of my days were spent studying instead of hanging out. I loved those days in spite of how boring they were.
But when I returned to TX for the summer, the only thing that made me feel home were the friends that lived there. Otherwise, I could honestly care less. If my friends are no longer in TX, I doubt I'll consider TX as my home. But I definitely don't consider Baltimore as my home. Because... well... hm... not sure.
I think... we're all still searching for the place we belong. We think we know, but we probably don't and might end up proving ourselves wrong. I think that's the feeling I'm getting out of both versions of Country Roads and what they mean to me in a nutshell. It's very different from yours. But, as far as hiding your true self from your family and friends is concerned, it's really really hard to find someone whom you can entrust yourself to them 100%. They might either find it repulsive, or they don't care at all. Which is why as open as I try to be with my own sexuality, not everyone knows about it.
It can't be helped, I guess. I've tried to tell my friends everything about myself once. My life, my everything. I might as well perform a seppuku and bare my guts. But, I realized something. The honest you try to be about yourself in front of other people... the less you would be familiar with yourself. You don't feel like you're talking about yourself anymore. It's like this complete stranger in some unfamiliar story who just happens to have your name.
That doesn't mean you can't try. Just take it slow. You'll find someone who can take in everything he/she can possibly chew. Because no matter the detail, no way ppl will miss out the fact that you're strong, smart, and compassionate.
As you can see, I'm slowly stopping to make sense along the line now because I'm still in African time. Technically, this is 2 AM to me now. Must... fight... Jet lag...
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-31 12:34 am (UTC)This is the hardest thing for me to deal with when i deal with deeply Christian people. To remember that, no matter how frustrating it may be, they ARE doing it out of love.
It's interesting you bring up fandom. So many people I know found themselves through fandom, and how much more open it is.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-31 04:29 am (UTC)For me, the anime that greatly informed my adolescence was FLCL. It spoke- more accurately, yelled right in my ear- quite clearly to my pubescent mind and changed the way I thought about a lot of things.
Also, you're something like the fourth or fifth person I've found on LJ that's a fan of Murakami. It's ironic, since his novels sell so well, you'd think I'd know more folks that read his stuff.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-02 08:15 pm (UTC)