First up, something to celebrate - I got accepted into graduate school (again!) Thanks to the hard work and fast turnaround time of some wonderfully supportive people on their recommendation letters, last week I was formally accepted into the Master's in Arts Leadership and Cultural Management at Colorado State University! It's an online program, so I'm not going anywhere. It's designed specifically for people looking to switch careers towards or move upwards in the arts, and my hope is that by the end of it (2 years,) I'll be prepared to move into an administrative or leadership position in a theatre, museum, or other cultural center somewhere. I was officially admitted on Wednesday, because there was an issue on their end with a transcript getting lost, and classes started the previous Tuesday, which means I got registered on Thursday and promptly had six assignments due. But I am off and rolling!
Which brings me to celebration #2 - dance! Over the weekend, I competed for the first time in a dance competition at Derby City Swing, and I won first place in my division! It's just a baby step, and I have a hugely long way to go in the next division (Novice,) but it was so gratifying to see some of the work I've put in over the years finally pay off. Dance has been a complicated beast for me for a few years. I love doing it, but for a long time there was pressure to make no mistakes, and because of the situation I was in, I wasn't really encouraged to improvise or play in my dance, only follow and stick to basic patterns. Now that I'm doing it for myself, and not for anyone else, there is joy and play in dance again, so I am trying to remember that the fun part is the important part, not the competition. (But let's admit it, getting a trophy was AWESOME.)Then there was some other, not so great stuff, that happened. Some of it is not my story to tell, and is just part of the fact that I am lucky to have people I love who turn to me when their lives hit speed bumps. One of the things about having people in your life that support you is that occasionally the time comes when you repay the favor, and there was some of that this week as well. But it's all worth it to see someone I love come out of a bad situation and remember the awesome person she really is.
And last is the fact that my biological dad died last week. This is a complicated situation that involves years of emotional abuse, so I haven't had a relationship with him in over a decade. But he was buried (or at least a memorial service was had) on Sunday (I didn't go;) which was the same day we got the news about Kobe Bryant's death. I've had an extremely visceral reaction to the Bryant death, because there is this whole debate about how much respect we owe the dead. (For those who don't remember, he raped a 19-year-old in 2003 and never really atoned for it.) What about the respect we owe to people who are still alive, who have been hurt by abusers? I've been silenced several times on facebook threads by both men and women who are just so ANGRY that I'm bringing up the fact that he raped someone, calling me "disrespectful," "a horrible human," "just mean," etc. They are far angrier about my mentioning the rape than they are over the fact that he raped someone.
And so this is connected very closely to how I feel about my own life right now. I've buried this last paragraph in a blog entry that almost no one reads, and it features no details about my dad's abuse, and yet I am terrified about the outcome of speaking up. Who, tomorrow, will tell me that I'm a horrible human for saying that my father abused me in emotional and other ways? Will it be a family member? Why is his reputation more important than the fact that my brain will literally carry the scars of that abuse forever? There is "taking the high road," and then there is just plain self-flagellation. I've said nothing to anyone that would carry that news back to him for 25 years. When does the silence end? And what will I do when someone accuses me of lying? What purpose would there even be to me lying about this? "Why didn't you bring this up when it first happened?" "Uh, because I was 11, and he was my dad, and I thought this was all normal, and I kind of did tell the family therapist, but it didn't change anything, which further reinforced the idea that it was all normal." "Why can't you remember the happy times with him?" "Uh, because there weren't any. All I remember of him is the control, the anger, the manipulation, the walking on eggshells and constantly feeling like I had to perform in just the right way or rage would break loose and sweep us all away."
I am 38 years old, and I am just now breaking free of the need to seek approval before making decisions. I'm sure I'm going to get a lot of disapproval for this post, for daring to speak up against the legacy of man who was on a school board, and worked on the Saturn rockets, has seven patents to his name, raced for NASCAR, and dealt in antiques, had two grandkids, on and on and on. But he was mean. And he made me feel worthless every time I spoke to him for 25 years, until I refused to speak to him anymore. And then he continued to send me mean letters until I moved last year and he didn't have my address anymore.
Maybe people will be mad at me for speaking up. Probably. But it can't hurt him anymore, just his reputation. And I'm just done thinking that any man's reputation is worth my silence any more. If he wanted to rest in peace, he should have tried living in peace. And if it can be destroyed by the truth, it deserves to be destroyed.
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