Think about it. All your bones are wet, right now. It’s kind of uncomfortable at first because WET is one of those squishy words, but if you push past that initial discomfort it’s kind of beautiful. The whole inside of you is wet, actually, not just your bones; your inner ocean separated from the air by the boundary of your skin. Your bones are floating in the sea of your muscles and tendons and blood.
The last year has been a journey of rediscovering my body after my schooling taught me to disregard it as a distraction. It took my body hitting a crisis point for me to begin giving it my energy and intention again – a powerful (if painful) reminder that avoiding things does not make them disappear. The counterpoint to that pain was the pleasure I found in discovering Acro – learning the strength of my body as I trusted it to hold my flying partners, or to be held myself, listening to Yoni’s reminder that your skeleton is strong when it is stacked on itself, practicing and practicing and practicing until I could stand on my head with no other support.
Having a body can be hard. I struggle with mine, as a trans person, as a femme, as someone living with chronic anxiety and pain. I’m grateful for the healing journey that my past self embarked on, almost a year ago. I’m grateful to Ash, for inviting me to come play at Acro, and Yoni for his knowledge and facilitation. I’m grateful to Savannah for always modeling getting back up after falling down. I’m grateful for kale, and all the other foods that nourish me. I’m grateful for climbing and ice skating and dancing and vitamin D. And I’m especially grateful to my bones, for holding me up.
I got into this work not quite by accident but certainly by intellect – I read my way into it. I haven’t posted in a few weeks and I know exactly why: I’ve been practicing instead. I’m trying to write this post, but we’re laughing too hard about Juice Mom and Milkshake PAPA. I certainly couldn’t explain it here without ruining the joke in explanation – I couldn’t capture the timing and tone of voice that set me off laughing. When I first started ALFing I pictured myself as a steadfast and diligent scribe, taking notes to share about what the experience is really like – notes that would convey it all. The volume of my note-making has increased exponentially (which has expanded from simply writing to also voice-memoing and cartooning and drawing and photographing and boomeranging and still doesn’t cover all the things that are happening….) and yet the more I write the more aware I am that I can’t capture this.
Anyway, highlights from the last few weeks include collaborating with Zoe on her forthcoming short story, The Skeletons on 36th Street (part of the reason I hadn’t blogged – we’d been spending focused blogging time together working on it); going to Philly to visit the Franklin Institute (where I’d never been before – I got to run through the heart and climb through a brain and explore the vikings exhibit and see how high we can jump and play with physics and…); and celebrating DANCEGIVING (thanks to Taasha, who donated yesterday’s incredible feast). Yesterday I got back to climbing for the first time in 3 weeks. Anatomy and Physiology with Beth and Hugo has been equal parts challenging and fascinating. Halloween was full of hilarious and delightful costumes (including the return of the MELICORN). Iphy went to Australia and returned. I returned to Werewolves after a long hiatus – Luca and Erez have been DMing some really creative and fun chaos-vector games. We’ve hosted visitors from Bejing and the Bronx. Banana Slug Tag has taken off as the park-crew-tag-of-choice (Anyia, Xander, Saylor and Savannah have all won games – a tricky feat). Plus there’s been drawing and dancing and legos and board games and poker and Japanese and movie-sharing and word silliness and crosswords and bed wars and koalas and worm composts and passive voice discussions and room painting and kpop video sharing and accountabilipals and acro lifts and magic school bus and the usual stuff that feels incomplete listed off like this but truer to the spirit of all-the-things-all-the-time….
This week, besides acknowledging that my narrative perspective is limited, I wanted to acknowledge the conversation I had on Monday night’s ALF call. Amber, Momo, Jeana, Anthony, Katherine, Abby and I discussed conflict resolution – specifically we found ourselves circling the question “How do we move from ALF (adult)-led conflict resolution to a kid-centered process?” I loved our conversation – I found myself reflecting on adrienne marie brown’s point that “there is one conversation that can only be had by the people in this room. Find it.” We really did. Reflecting on the places our various ALCs are at, we agreed that such a movement requires trust, practice, and time, in a culture that values creating a space that feels safe to those in it – that is clear about modeling boundaries and defining violence, that sees and acknowledges the larger cultural narratives that US society holds but doesn’t excuse behaviors shaped by them. At the very end, we found ourselves talking about gender-based violence in a way that echoed around my mind long after we’d hung up – I’ll write something that will exorcise it eventually (I hope…).
I’m learning to sense the school year’s rhythms, this go-around. The first 6 weeks are the block where I blog very diligently, where the questions of the year begin to arise and we all choose the roles we think we’ll be playing. The next 6 weeks (which we’re smack in the middle of right now) play out the dynamics of the first 6, and I find myself elbow deep in them and I lose track of my documenting in the doing of it. What’s next? We’ll see…