Boston – The Freedom Bulletin

Previous me would have loved going to a Red Sox event…

Posted on April 9, 2024 by Marissa

On Saturday there was an open house at Fenway Park to celebrate the new baseball season. It featured autograph signings by former Red Sox players, photo ops, mascots, and a chance to run/walk around the bases on the field.

This is the type of event that previous me would have been all over. I would have set my alarm, walked to the train station, and taken the Orange Line and then the Green Line to get to the ballpark. I would have jumped at the chance to add to my autograph collection, take a selfie, and post the fun pictures on social media.

I didn’t go to the Red Sox event.

Current me is very different from previous me.

Due to the way that the city of Boston and its sports teams handled the statue genocide – by failing to speak out against it and in some ways by actively supporting it – I’m not the enthusiastic Red Sox (or Bruins or Celtics, for that matter) fan that I once was.

My job situation and daily routine are also completely different. I work in the evenings and therefore tend to go to bed late and get up late. I don’t have to set an alarm for work, as I did for my 9-5 job, so I avoid doing so at all to the maximum extent possible.

Additionally, as a single adult, I do unfortunately feel awkward asking famous athletes for photos and autographs. I think it’s wrong that our society considers these types of things to be “for kids,” because I believe that all people should be treated equally regardless of age, but unfortunately it does. I am now too old to pass for a teenager, and I feel that I will be perceived as weirder and weirder the older I get.

But most of all, I have found over the past four years that I gain the most happiness from focusing on my inner world and not focusing on the outer one as much. The activities that I gravitate towards consist of drawing, writing, spending time with my statues, and organizing my toy soldiers and dolls. I am not as strongly drawn to activities such as following sports, walking around Boston, photographing the city, and attending events.

Our society has this idea that withdrawing from the outside world is somehow unhealthy, or even a “symptom” of depression. But I have found that this is the healthiest way for me to live. I wish more than anything that the terrible events of the past four years didn’t happen, but they did. Given this reality, it makes me happier to focus on the historical figures that I love, and the imaginary world in which they reside, rather than on the society that has hurt and rejected me. And I have read that doing fewer activities is exactly what helps with recovering from autistic burnout, something that I’ve been struggling with for many years.

So for now, I am making a deliberate decision to live a slower-paced life with more free time. I am going to do the things that I feel like doing, rather than pushing myself to get up before my body naturally wants to in order to attend events that I don’t have the energy for. I am going to do activities that bring me joy, rather than ones that are filled with reminders of the trauma that I’ve experienced. (Of course, some activities have the potential for both these things, which can make the decision about whether to do them or not difficult, but I will deal with those as they come up.)

Christopher Columbus in his new home

Posted on July 26, 2023 by Marissa

It had been a difficult week, with many things weighing on my mind that are hard to put into words. When I woke up in the morning, something made me decide to visit Christopher Columbus. Something told me that he would understand, even though he is not technically alive.

So I took the train to Boston. Upon getting out at Haymarket, I noticed that many things were different from the last time I was there. The Government Center garage was almost completely dismantled, with a huge yellow crane towering over the scene. A glass skyscraper emblazoned with the words “State Street” loomed nearby. There was also a new row of buildings, containing a Gordon Ramsay burger restaurant, in the area where fruit vendors set up their stands on Fridays and Saturdays.

All of these changes, combined with the constant stream of foot traffic flowing around me, caused me to start feeling overstimulated. It was hot and sunny, and I felt dizzy and tired.

I also began to get nervous about Chris himself. He had not officially been unveiled in his new location, and the finishing touches were still being put on the space, so I didn’t know what the setup would be. I didn’t know how publicly visible (if at all) he would be, or how the courtyard would be configured around him. I expected that I would have to do a bit of searching in order to find him, and I was concerned that I might attract curious stares or (God forbid) questions from passerby. I figured there was also a possibility he wouldn’t be publicly visible at all, and I would have made the trip into Boston for nothing.

Despite this, I crossed over the Rose Kennedy Greenway and into the North End. The narrow streets were filled with people going about their business: tourists taking selfies, kids in matching t-shirts who appeared to be on some sort of field trip, businesspeople rushing to work, young people in trendy activewear returning home from their workouts, employees wheeling boxes of various food products into restaurants. While making my way through the bustling streets, I looked to my left in search of the correct side street to turn onto. To my surprise, there he was, his familiar white marble form unmistakable.

The sight of him took my breath away.

I was not expecting Chris to be so easy to find.

In fact, the sighting of my beloved statue was so unexpected that instead of turning onto that side street, I continued with the flow of foot traffic, not wanting to abruptly change direction and cut people off. I decided to first check out the view of Chris from the opposite direction, and then to circle back. So I ended up on a shady, somewhat secluded street, where an old man sat on some porch steps, chatting on his cell phone. He looked up briefly when he saw me, but quickly turned his attention back to his conversation. Down a short alley and behind a black, metal fence was Chris. Only his back was visible from this view. He stood beside a brick building, presumably the new headquarters for the Knights of Columbus Ausonia Council, which also contains apartments for low-income seniors. I snapped a few shots, then headed back to see my friend from the front.

I returned to the main drag, and then turned onto the side street down which I had glimpsed Chris before. In stark contrast to the bustling streets surrounding it, the little lane was deserted, with the exception of several parked construction vehicles and a lone pedestrian who soon disappeared through the door of an apartment building.

In almost eerie silence, and beneath the baking sun, I was alone with Chris.

His face had the same pensive look that I remembered, his arms still crossed sternly across his chest. He stood atop a simple granite pedestal, anchored to the ground with concrete. The area around him was bare and stark, the vacant asphalt expanse devoid of any flowers or landscaping. There was no noise other than a county song playing faintly in the distance. A piece of clear plastic wrap, still clinging to his torso, stirred briefly in a faint breeze.

I was struck by the contrast between Chris’s quiet, seemingly deserted new home and the crowded, noisy streets surrounding it. I was also struck by the seeming indifference of those crowds of people: sightseeing, laughing, chatting, strolling, and working, none of them displaying any outward indication that they cared one iota whether Chris existed or not. No acknowledgement that standing tall in their midst was the marble embodiment of the pain that has tormented me for three years, changed my life completely, and on more than one occasion nearly ended it.

Thanks to a black metal fence, adorned with “no trespassing” signs, I could get no more than about 30 feet from Chris. Hopefully that fence, along with several security cameras nearby, will keep him safe. But the fence did not block him from view. I took pictures from various angles and simply stood and looked at him for a while.

Do you remember me? I thought. I remember you. You haven’t changed at all. This city has changed, though. This city hates you. It hates me too. So we’re the same.

Are you happy here? I wondered. Are you in pain? Are you angry at what happened to you? Are you sad that you’re not in the park anymore? Do you miss it?

It was nearly noon, the sun almost directly overhead and the pavement baking beneath my feet.

What do you think about this weather? I wondered Do you like the sun beating down like this? I thought about my Stonewall Jackson statue, and how beautifully he shines when the sun warms his bronze surface. I bet you do. Statues like the hotness. Yeah, you do.

It’s been nice to see you, I thought, as if Chris could somehow hear me (and as if it’s perfectly normal to try to telepathically send your thoughts to a statue). Stonewall Jackson sends his regards. I think you’d like him, if you could meet him.

All right, I’ll be back.

I glanced back at him one more time, sending a silent farewell, before making my way down the deserted side street and rejoining the crowds teeming down the main thoroughfare.

Don’t get me wrong: I am still angry at what happened to Chris. It is an injustice, and always will be. I was upset when I first saw photos of Chris, with his head once more attached to him, at his new location. Upset because the images confirmed his eviction from his rightful place, and because others had learned the news before I did (I saw the photos on social media two days after they were posted).

But spending a few moments with Chris lifted my spirits and was good for my soul. I was glad to see him after three years of not being able to do so.

7/18/2023

“You are standing on Native land”

Posted on May 29, 2023 by Marissa

This picture, seen on social media, angers me.

It angers me that some organization or company or government entity (I’m not sure exactly who is responsible) made the decision to create a sign like this.

All my life, I’ve been told that I do everything wrong. That everything about me is wrong and bad. That I wear the wrong clothes, the wrong shoes, the wrong socks. That I read the wrong books, listen to the wrong music, watch the wrong shows. That I hold my pencil the wrong way, play with my toys the wrong way, wash my hair the wrong way, wash my face the wrong way, floss my teeth the wrong way. That I stand wrong, sit wrong, speak wrong, use words wrong.

And now I am being told that I have the wrong skin color and the wrong ancestry. After a lifetime of being told that everything about me is wrong and bad, I am now being told that I don’t deserve to exist in the city of Boston, due to the color of my skin and the fact that my ancestors came from Europe. Due to things about me that I have absolutely no control over.

All my life, I’ve suppressed my autistic self in order to fit in with neurotypical people. And now I am being told that because I happen to have European ancestry, I need to grovel at the feet of indigenous people in order to be allowed to exist. That because of where my ancestors came from, I don’t have a right to exist in the only city that I have ever called home.

All my life, I’ve been told that I need to apologize for everything about myself. And now I am being told that because of my skin color and my ancestry, I need to apologize for my very existence.

All my life, I’ve been made to feel wrong, worthless, bad, and messed-up. It is angering and demoralizing that someone would create a sign designed to make me feel even more this way.

I’m sick and tired of having to apologize for my existence. A native person is not superior to me. I have just as much of a right to exist in Boston as anyone else does.

Statues and mattering

Posted on January 5, 2023 by Marissa

Every human being wants to feel that they matter.

The aspect of the statue genocide that is perhaps the most painful is the fact that by perpetrating it, society has made an emphatic, definitive, and violent statement that I do not matter. That my perspective, my viewpoint, my experiences, my opinions, my feelings, and my wishes, do not matter.

The physical spaces of our cities and towns have been reconfigured to reflect this decision. The very places in which we live our lives, redesigned to reflect the belief that I do not matter. Public art reevaluated to ensure that nothing that makes me feel included is allowed to remain.

No wonder taking the train into Boston is the last thing I feel like doing.

No wonder there is a pervasive sense of emptiness, of hollowness, when I walk through the streets of the city that I used to love.

No wonder I am plagued by an inescapable (and admittedly, not entirely logical) feeling that the buildings, parks, and monuments seem somehow to hate me.

No wonder it is difficult to enjoy going anywhere, or doing anything.

Alternate universes

Posted on March 13, 2022 by Marissa

Since the statue genocide began almost two years ago, numerous activities that I used to enjoy have been ruined. I used to love exploring Boston and its suburbs, photographing buildings and landmarks. I used to love trains and buses, both as a mode of transit and as a cool thing to learn about and photograph in and of themselves. I used to love sports, particularly the Bruins, and frequently attended their games and practices.

However, now that Boston has become a city without my statue of Christopher Columbus in it, I do not love Boston anymore. I no longer get much pleasure from exploring or photographing it, nor do I really enjoy rooting for Boston’s sports teams. Whenever I think “Boston,” the fact that there is no Christopher Columbus anymore is front and center.

The same concept applies to almost all cities and states in the U.S., and many foreign countries as well. The fact that places do not have the statues and monuments that they are supposed to have, and therefore are ruined, significantly negatively impacts my ability to enjoy my former hobbies and interests.

I have struggled to figure out what to do about this. I have unfollowed some athletes, organizations, and photographers on social media either because they specifically expressed support for anti-statue ideology, or because I found their content to be particularly painful. But I am still following many social media accounts that are related to Boston, photography, public transportation, and/or sports, and seeing posts on these topics causes a variety of different emotions.

Yesterday, I saw a post about the Route 71 and 73 buses that go through Cambridge and Watertown. What is unique about these buses is that they are connected to overhead wires that power them as they make their way through the streets, as opposed to using diesel or gas. Sadly, this past weekend marks the end of these buses’ lives. Due to a major road construction project, they are being taken out of service and will eventually be replaced with more high-tech buses. A train and bus enthusiast that I follow on Instagram took a trip on one of these buses over the weekend and posted photos and videos documenting the journey.

Seeing these images, I thought to myself, “I should have done that!” The old me, in fact, probably would have done that. An old-fashioned bus line is exactly the type of thing that the old me was into. The old me would have wanted to experience that and document it as a part of Boston history. I felt bad that I didn’t ride and document the bus this weekend; I felt that it was something I should do.

But then I had an epiphany. Riding the 71 or 73 bus is something that I would have done in a parallel universe, or an alternate reality. An alternate reality in which the statue genocide hadn’t happened. But unfortunately, the statue genocide did happen. I don’t live in a parallel universe; I live in this one. And in this universe, my priority is defending, honoring, and glorifying the historical figures who are under relentless, brutal attack. Each person has only a finite amount of time and energy, and given the horrific things that happened, my time and energy are best spent celebrating historical figures through art, poetry, and writing.

Thinking about it that way, I am able to find some semblance of peace with regards to the activities that I used to do and the things that I used to be into. These are things that the version of me that exists in a parallel universe would do, but this version of me doesn’t do. Given what happened in this universe, these activities aren’t the most meaningful use of my time and energy.

I don’t mean to imply that the statue genocide was even remotely good in any way, shape, or form, but at least it has narrowed down my interests to a manageable amount. Before, there were so many hobbies and activities that interested me that I was constantly frustrated that I didn’t have enough time and energy to do them all. There was no way I could learn about all the topics that I wanted to learn about, no way I could explore all the places that I wanted to explore, and no way I could attend all the events that I wanted to attend. I lived in a constant state of exhaustion, time pressure, and overwhelm. For a while, the pandemic cut down on the amount of activities that were available, which was hugely beneficial for me (I know that sounds like a weird thing to say about a pandemic, but it’s true). The statue genocide, as horrific, unjust, and immoral as it has been, has given me clarity on my priorities in life, and on which activities are the best uses of my time and energy.

I have gone through an unimaginable amount of pain over the past two years. What happened is not okay, and I will never feel that it is. But slowly, very slowly, I am adjusting to the fact that this version of the universe differs from the version I expected and imagined, and my hobbies and interests differ as well.

Boston City Councilors on preserving public art

Posted on August 23, 2020August 23, 2020 by Marissa

Boston City Council President Kim Janey had some interesting comments on public art this week, after a mural called “Roxbury Love” was destroyed during the process of building a new housing complex.

“There was a missed opportunity in terms of residents being able to come and say goodbye to the mural,” Janey said. Although Cruz Companies, which is building the complex, had told the city that the mural would need to be demolished and is considering incorporating elements of the mural into the building, citizens did not know ahead of time that it would be demolished on that particular day. Even the mural’s creator, Deme5, said in an Instagram post that he was saddened at the loss and would have appreciated a heads up about the demolition.

Janey called on her fellow council members to discuss “strategies for ensuring intentionality when it comes to preserving murals and public art.” She expressed admiration for the murals that she grew up around in Roxbury and the South End during the 1970s and 1980s. “It was an important part of what it meant to live in the community that I lived in,” she said. Another city councilor, Liz Breadon, described public art as “a wonderful, vibrant expression of the community that lives in that place.”

I wholeheartedly agree with these comments. Art is an essential part of the identity of a place. But when reading them, I can’t help but think of the beautiful statues across the country that have been destroyed by mobs or taken down by local governments. These statues were just as crucial to the identity of their communities as the Roxbury mural was, and their removal just as damaging. Rampaging, politically correct protesters have also deprived people of the opportunity to say goodbye to beloved works of art, as have cowardly public officials who have ordered statues removed under cover of night. Boston’s Italian-American community did not get the chance to say farewell to the statue of Christopher Columbus that was brutally beheaded by a despicable excuse for a human being. Richmond residents who are proud of their Southern heritage weren’t able to bid adieu to the magnificent statues of Confederate generals that Mayor Levar Stoney abruptly ordered removed. So while I completely share the sentiments of these city councilors with respect to the importance of preserving public art, the same consideration needs to be extended to all works of art, not only those that happen to be favored by the political establishment.

No, Christopher Columbus Park is not “dedicated to white supremacy”

Posted on June 13, 2020 by Marissa

After the horrific attack on the Christopher Columbus statue in Boston, representatives from the United American Indians of New England, North American Indian Center of Boston, Indigenous Peoples Day MA, and New Democracy Coalition held a press conference near the site where the statue used to be. The purpose of the press conference was apparently to insult the statue and by extension, the Italian-American community.

“For 500 years plus, Black and indigenous people have endured a campaign of state violence,” complained Jean-Luc Pierite, president of the North American Indian Center of Boston, without providing any explanation of what he means by this or any evidence that it is true.

“It’s a park dedicated to white supremacy; it’s a park dedicated to indigenous genocide,” said Mahtowin Munro of United American Indians of NE and IndigenousPeoplesDayMA.org. “The messaging is clear with the statue here that this is an area where white people are welcome, but where our people are not welcome. So we’ve been asking for years that this statue come down and that Columbus be no longer celebrated.”

“This statue needs to be permanently removed,” said Kevin Peterson, founder of the New Democracy Coalition. “It is an insult to Native American people, it is an insult to the very idea of democracy. We demand that this statue be removed and that it is never seen again.”

These comments are so deeply wrong – morally, philosophically, and intellectually – that it is difficult to determine which statement is the most preposterous.

First of all, Christopher Columbus Park is not dedicated to white supremacy or indigenous genocide. That is not even remotely close to being true, and it makes absolutely no sense that anyone would say or think that. Christopher Columbus Park is dedicated to…. Christopher Columbus. It might be true that Columbus was a white supremacist (as was pretty much every single person in the 15th century) and it could be argued that his actions amounted to genocide (although that is highly debatable), but to equate Columbus with white supremacy and genocide, as if those are his only two attributes, is ridiculous. Columbus was a person. He had many different qualities, both positive and negative, and did many different things over the course of his life. Discovering an entirely new continent, which Europeans did not know about before, was a pretty significant achievement. Was he perfect? No. Did he treat indigenous people in the best possible way? No. But it is wrong to claim that honoring Columbus is the same thing as honoring white supremacy and indigenous genocide.

Equally preposterous is the claim that “the messaging is clear” that only white people are welcome in Columbus Park and not indigenous or black people. There is no messaging that only white people are welcome in Columbus Park. People of all races are welcome there. That should not even need to be explained. As far as I know, no one has ever said, suggested, or implied in any way that only white people are welcome in the park. I walk through the park frequently and see people of all races, ages, and genders hanging out there. If you do not feel comfortable in the park, that is your own problem. If you hate Christopher Columbus so much that you are unwilling to set foot in a park that bears his name, that is your choice. No one did anything to make you feel unwelcome.

The contention that the statue is an insult to Native American people and to the idea of democracy is also false. How can a statue be an insult to someone? There is no historical figure that is liked and admired by all people. For any statue, there are going to be some people who like it and some people who don’t. If you believe that Columbus’s treatment of indigenous people outweighs his positive attributes, then you are probably not a fan of his statue. That is fine. But that does not mean the statue’s existence is an insult to you. There are numerous historical figures that I dislike. For example, I don’t like Hubert Humphrey because he sponsored the Durham-Humphrey Amendment, and I don’t like General Richard Sherman because of the atrocities he committed against the South during the Civil War. But I don’t claim that statues depicting them are an insult to me, nor do I demand that those statues be removed.

As for the demand that the Columbus statue be permanently removed, that is not only unreasonable but demonstrates true bigotry and intolerance. What right do you have to demand that a statue be removed, never to be seen again? Different people have different values, preferences, and opinions about which attributes are admirable in a historical figure and how the different attributes should be weighed. Therefore, different people will come to different conclusions about which historical figures deserve to be honored with statues. Yet the speakers at this press conference are arguing that their opinions, and only their opinions, should determine which statues are allowed to exist and which are not. What makes their opinions more important than other people’s opinions? They are demonstrating not one iota of consideration for those who admire Columbus and cherish the statue.

The criticisms of the statue and the demands to remove it are even more offensive when one takes into account the fact that Columbus was from Italy (he was born in Genoa, which was not part of Italy at the time but is now), and his statue and park are located at the southern edge of the North End, the Italian part of Boston. Columbus was essentially the first Italian-American. To many Italian-Americans today, his accomplishments are a source of pride. His statue represents the Italian-American community and symbolically welcomes Bostonians and visitors to the North End. It is disturbing that someone would equate celebrating Italian-American heritage with white supremacy. Not only do the people who spoke at the press conference consider the existence of anything they dislike to be a personal insult to them, but they apparently believe that their culture is the only one that deserves to be honored and celebrated. Not only do they believe they have a right to order the removal of any statue they dislike, but they believe they have a right to obliterate a symbol of Italian heritage from Boston’s Italian neighborhood. Go ahead and celebrate Indigenous Peoples Day if you want to. Put up statues of notable indigenous people from history. But you do not get to tell other people to stop celebrating Columbus Day, and you do not get to take away the Columbus statue from those who cherish and appreciate it.

The only good thing to occur during the anti-Columbus press conference was that, according to Boston.com, a resident of the North End shouted his objections to removing the statue, at times drowning the speakers out. Good for him.

Munro, naturally, complained that this was emblematic of how indigenous people have allegedly been silenced for centuries. “We will not allow ourselves to be silenced anymore,” she said.

News flash: you have never been silenced. You and your fellow speakers at the press conference are the ones who are trying to silence any views that differ from yours. You are demanding that a beautiful statue be removed because you personally do not like it. You are demanding that other people stop celebrating a historical figure because you personally do not admire him. You are acting as if your views and preferences are the only ones that matter. How dare you gather at the site of a statue that has just been brutally beheaded and rub salt into the wounds of those who love the statue and the Italian heritage that it stands for? You are the ones who are truly being racist, discriminatory, and intolerant.

Christopher Columbus statue destroyed in despicable act of bigotry

Posted on June 10, 2020 by Marissa

In a despicable and disgraceful act of bigotry, someone beheaded the statue of Christopher Columbus in Boston.

Every time I hear about a statue of a historical figure being vandalized, torn down, or otherwise damaged, my blood boils and my soul aches. I love history and I love statues. I believe that a historical figure does not need to be perfect to deserve having a statue in his or her honor. I believe that it is important for a nation to have a wide variety of statues representing a range of different ideologies and viewpoints. I believe that destroying a statue is one of the most morally repugnant actions a person could do. But this one really hits home. To me, this statue is not just any statue. It is a statue that I know well and have a particular affinity for.

This statue stood in Christopher Columbus Park, on the edge of the North End, the Italian neighborhood of Boston. My office is near the statue, and before the Covid-19 apocalypse hit, I walked by it nearly every day during my lunch-time walk. Christopher Columbus Park is beautiful. It has an elegant trellis, colorful flowers of various kinds, and a view of Boston Harbor. The statue has always been the focal point, overlooking the grass, flowers, and water from his pedestal in the center of the park. The fact that someone could see this statue and decide that it would be a good idea to rip his head off is completely incomprehensible and disgusting.

Additionally, I find this act of destruction to be particularly reprehensible because I am half Italian-American. Christopher Columbus was not perfect. But he is a symbol of Italian-American pride. It is no coincidence that his statue stands at the entrance to the North End, welcoming Bostonians and visitors to the Italian part of Boston. The destruction of the Christopher Columbus statue is an act of hate against Italian-Americans. I consider it to be an attack on me personally, as well as all who share my ethnicity.

In his comments today, Boston Mayor Marty Walsh failed to take a strong enough stance against this act of destruction and bigotry. “We don’t condone any vandalism here in the city of Boston, and that needs to stop,” he said. Walsh mentioned that the Columbus statue has been vandalized twice before in 2006 and 2015. He also added, “Given the conversations that we’re certainly having right now in our city of Boston and throughout the country, we’re also going to take time to assess the historic meaning of the statue.”

In other words, because the statue has been repeatedly targeted by vandals, he is considering getting rid of it permanently. This somewhat contradicts his statement that he does not condone vandalism. Removing the statue permanently is exactly what the vandals want and are attempting to accomplish through their acts of vandalism. Giving in to the demands of the vandals would essentially be condoning what they are doing. It would also be an act of cowardice. I hope that Walsh stands up for the Italian-American community and all people who value true diversity, as opposed to caving to the bullies who believe that only politically-correct views deserve to be expressed and that some lives matter more than others.

The excuse for a human being who did this should be found, arrested, and punished to the fullest extent of the law. This is a hate crime and should be prosecuted as such. The Christopher Columbus statue needs to be repaired and restored to his rightful place, with a round-the-clock armed security guard protecting him at all times. The excuse for a human being who did this reprehensible deed should be made to pay for the repairs, as well as for the security detail. This excuse for a human being should be sentenced to as many years in prison as possible, and when he or she is released (hopefully never), statues of Christopher Columbus should be erected all over his or her neighborhood so that he or she is forced to look at Christopher Columbus at all times for the rest of his or her miserable life.

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Shots from a nearly deserted Boston in the era of COVID-19

Posted on March 29, 2020 by Marissa

Despite the governor’s and president’s advice for everyone to stay home whenever possible, I decided today to venture into Boston. Here are some shots of the nearly (but not completely) deserted city.