Tag: statue genocide

bookmark_borderThe return of the bills whose sole purpose is to hurt people as badly as possible…

Posted on by Marissa

I could not believe my eyes when I saw this. The Virginia bills whose sole purpose is to hurt people as badly as possible are back. Governor Glenn Youngkin has seven days in which to either veto or sign them.

I heard about these bills through the social media posts of people / organizations who are fighting against them, and have not read any coverage of them in the news media, but the mere thought of what the news articles might be saying about them makes me sick to my stomach. The Instagram post linked above says, “the left is pushing hard for [Youngkin] to sign these bills.” The idea that anyone would push for these bills is absolutely sickening, and it makes me sick to my stomach to imagine the arguments that proponents might be making in favor of them.

I cannot wrap my head around why someone would think that either of these bills is a good idea and should be enacted into law, particularly after the indescribably horrible atrocities that have been committed unendingly and relentlessly over the past four years. It boggles my mind to think that anyone would favor inflicting additional suffering on people who have already been tortured by the infliction of unbearable, indescribable, relentless pain. “Left” isn’t even the correct term for someone who supports these bills, in my opinion. The desire to make the world as bad a place as possible, and to inflict the maximum possible amount of pain on other people, can’t accurately be categorized as a political ideology at all. A person who considers this to be a worthy goal, which must be the case for anyone who supports bills HB 812 and SB 517, is so filled with brutality, cruelty, meanness, and nastiness, and so completely devoid of morality and devoid of a soul, that such a person doesn’t even deserve to be categorized as a person at all.

“I’m so sick of this,” wrote one commenter on the Instagram post.

“Unbelievable,” wrote another. “I spent 4 years in Virginia and I loved it there. It’s been a shame to see legislation like this, the desecration/removal of monuments, etc..”

Amen. My thoughts are the same as these comments, but multiplied by 100.

I am so incredibly sick of things like bills HB 812 and SB 517. So, so incredibly sick of it. More sick of it than I ever thought it was possible for a human being to be sick of anything. My soul has been beaten down by the brutal, cruel, mean-spirited nastiness that is bills HB 812 and SB 517. Brutal, cruel, mean-spirited nastiness that just keeps occurring again and again, relentlessly. Where the people who hold 100% of the power just keep hurting the people who hold no power, as badly as they possibly can. For no other reason than inflicting pain and suffering. As if inflicting pain and suffering on people is somehow noble, or honorable, or morally good. I am so incredibly sick of it that there are no words to convey the extent of my exhaustion. It is soul-crushing.

To say that legislation like this, and desecration/removal of monuments, are a shame is an understatement. Legislation like this, and desecration/removal of monuments, completely defeat the purpose of Virginia. They completely defeat the purpose of the US. They completely defeat the purpose of life, because they erase from the world the very things that make life worth living.

The actions that have been committed, and that continue to be committed, are absolutely soul-crushing. People who support bills HB 812 and SB 517, and/or any policies even remotely like them, have inflicted indescribable agony. My soul is sick, aching, and in pain.

This is the email that I sent to Governor Youngkin about these bills:

Dear Governor Youngkin:
I am writing to express my opposition to bills HB 812 and SB 517. In my opinion, these bills are mean-spirited, destructive, hurtful, and without any redeeming value. I am on the autism spectrum, and my special interest is history. I really admire Confederate generals such as Robert E. Lee, and Confederate history is extremely important to me. I have been severely hurt by the attacks on history and statues that have taken place over the past few years, and these bills are just a continuation of the same attacks. It is extremely upsetting to me that these bills have a chance of becoming law. I feel that these bills have no purpose other than hurting people who love Confederate history, such as myself. I have already suffered tremendous pain due to the relentless and cruel attacks on Confederate history and statues, and inflicting additional pain on people like me, as bills HB 812 and SB 517 would do, is the absolute last thing anyone needs.
Therefore, I respectfully urge you to please, please veto these mean-spirited and hurtful bills.
Sincerely,
Marissa

bookmark_border“I’m going to re-create it just so that it can get melted down again”

Posted on by Marissa

You’re going to inflict excruciating pain on other people, just because they are different from you? Just because they are different from the majority?

You’re going to actively and deliberately harm people who are already worse off than you are?

You are going to take an action that has no purpose other than to express hatred for people who are different?

Why, exactly, do you consider that to be a good thing?

bookmark_borderAll lives matter, including mine

Posted on by Marissa

In our society, there are categories of people universally acknowledged as having suffered. There are certain experiences universally recognized as difficult.

Whenever a person falls into one of these categories, or goes through one of these experiences, everyone expresses empathy. Everyone rallies around them. People offer condolences, say how sorry they are, say that they can’t imagine how difficult it is to go through that experience. Everyone falls all over themselves in their eagerness to help, to support, to stand in solidarity.

My life, from the time I was a little kid, was difficult and painful. I’ve suffered enormously and experienced tremendous pain. But I don’t fall under any of the aforementioned categories of people. The things I’ve experienced are not recognized as difficult by our society.

Instead of rallying around me, instead of saying how sorry they are, people tell me that what I am going through is no big deal. They tell me to stop being so sensitive, to stop complaining. They tell me that it is for my own good, that everyone has to do things they don’t like, that I should have acted differently. They tell me that I am a jerk for being upset, or that I caused the situation and therefore have no one to blame but myself.

Other people’s suffering and pain are acknowledged. Mine are not.

In the eyes of society, I am a well-off, able-bodied person who ought to help, support, and sacrifice for the benefit of those who are struggling. For the benefit of those who are “less fortunate.” But in reality, I am the one who is struggling. I am the one who is less fortunate. And others should be helping, supporting, and rallying around me.

In the eyes of society, because I don’t fall into a category that is considered “oppressed” or “marginalized,” because my experiences don’t match up with society’s idea of hardship, I am considered “privileged.” But in reality, having one’s suffering and difficulties acknowledged is the most significant form of privilege that exists.

That’s why the things that have happened in our society since spring 2020 have been so devastating, infuriating, and enraging.

During that horrifying spring and summer, society collectively exploded with eagerness to acknowledge black and indigenous people’s suffering, even though these are categories of people whose suffering has always been acknowledged. In other words, society doubled down on the practice of acknowledging other people’s suffering while ignoring mine. This would be bad enough in itself. But this time, society decided to do something even more unfair and unjust than merely ignoring my suffering. This time, society’s acknowledgement of other people’s suffering took the form of actively destroying something that is very important to me – statues.

What has happened in our society since 2020 represents not only the failure to acknowledge my pain, but the active infliction of additional pain on me.

That is why the events of the past four years have been so horrible.

Whenever a statue is removed, a holiday canceled, a street or building renamed, society is saying that other people’s suffering matters and mine does not. And over the course of four years, this reprehensible message has spread to contaminate more and more of the world. What used to be parks, cities, squares, historic sites, cemeteries, have been transformed into monuments to the idea that other people’s pain should be acknowledged and mine should not. Society’s rejection of me is now inescapable. Countless places, things, events, institutions have been turned into sickening reminders, that before were innocuous. The grim results of the traumatic events are everywhere.

Perhaps if I had experienced a life that was more or less easy, in which my needs were generally met, I would support the BLM movement. Perhaps I would agree with the idea that I am “privileged.” Perhaps I would willingly check my privilege, educate myself, be a better ally, work to become actively anti-racist, and center and amplify the voices of those who are less fortunate than me. Perhaps I would post mindless platitudes on social media, and then go back to cooking perfect meals in my perfect house on a tree-lined street with my adorable kids and dog, like the people who unfriended me when I had the audacity to speak out against the statue genocide.

But I didn’t experience such a life. I experienced a life of difficulty and pain. And society’s failure to acknowledge the difficulty and pain was the most difficult and painful thing of all.

So I will fight vociferously against any movement or ideology that considers me “privileged.” I will not silence myself in order to elevate other voices. I will not advocate for others, when others do not advocate for me. I am not interested in educating myself about the horrors of slavery or racism or “settler colonialism” (whatever the heck that means) when others demonstrate no interest in learning about the horrors that I’ve experienced. And I will not sacrifice my needs and wants for the benefit of the less fortunate, because the people considered less fortunate than me in the eyes of society are, in reality, anything but.

This is why I support All Lives Matter. Because it’s not only black lives that matter. My life matters, too.

You might consider me an asshole. You might say that I have no empathy for others. You might even call me a psychopath.

If I am an asshole and a psychopath, then so be it. Why should I have empathy for others, when others do not have empathy for me? Only when society acknowledges my suffering and my pain, will I consider doing the same for others.

As our public spaces are transformed one after another into sickening monuments to the idea that other people’s pain should be acknowledged and mine should not… I have erected my own monuments. They are only 4 feet tall and are not located on publicly visible land. But they are everything to me. I love them more than anything else in the world. They are monuments to Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson, Robert E. Lee, and Nathan Bedford Forrest. But they are also monuments to myself. They are monuments to the idea that my feelings matter, my thoughts matter, my perspective matters, and my pain deserves to be acknowledged. Through these statues, I take care of my favorite historical figures, celebrate them, honor them, fight for them. And in turn, they fight for me. They are my little army, standing guard outside my castle, my little world in which I matter.


bookmark_borderThe cowardice of Glenn Youngkin

Posted on by Marissa

Two days ago, the Virginia bills whose goal is to hurt people as badly as possible failed to become law. 

According to the Virginia Flaggers, an organization fighting against the bills, Governor Glenn Youngkin “sent the partisan bills back to the general assembly with amendments that include requiring them to be approved again in the 2025 legislative session after additional studies, essentially kicking them down the road.”

Although it is obviously a good thing that the repugnant and sickening bills did not become law (at least not yet), I’m exasperated by Youngkin’s failure to take a more definitive stand against them.

Youngkin should have made a forceful public statement unequivocally condemning these bills. 

He should have said:

These bills hurt people.

These bills are immoral.

It is immoral to introduce, sponsor, or vote in favor of bills that accomplish nothing other than hurting, as badly as possible, people who are different from the majority. 

These bills are absolutely disgusting, despicable, and reprehensible.

In fact, it’s disgusting, despicable, and reprehensible that anyone would even remotely consider supporting such bills as these. 

Youngkin should have condemned the repugnant and sickening bills in the strongest possible terms. He should have done so publicly, unabashedly, and without equivocation.

Instead, he waited until the final hour to take action, and it was an equivocal and wishy-washy action at that. Youngkin waited until the deadline for taking action on the bills; if he had done nothing they would automatically have become law. And he didn’t even veto them outright. He sent them back to the general assembly, which (sickeningly) leaves open the possibility that they could still be passed next year. 

Although I’m glad the bills won’t be getting passed this year, the fact that a horrifying, abominable, unimaginably disgusting thing has merely been kicked down the road is not a victory. The moral truth is that bills like these shouldn’t exist at all. No one should introduce them, no one should support them, no one should vote in favor of them. No one should even remotely think that anything even remotely resembling these bills is even a remotely good idea. I want there to actually be positive bills to support, efforts to enact positive change, potential for positive news, rather than fighting with all my might in a (usually futile) effort to prevent new atrocities from occurring. I’m tired of existing in a world in which staving off horrific outcomes is the best that I can hope for. 

Youngkin’s cowardice is exasperating, demoralizing, and discouraging. 

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

Posted on 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.)

bookmark_borderRobert E. Lee memorial at Antietam Battlefield

Posted on by Marissa

Beautiful post from Dixie Forever about the Robert E. Lee statue at Antietam Battlefield:

You can also view the post here on Facebook.

This post really brings home for me the gravity of the horrible things that have happened, and continue to happen, in our country. The images of this statue are so beautiful, but are also a punch in the gut for me. Sadly, as the post states, this is currently one of the most threatened monuments in America. It’s despicable and sickening that this is the case. How anyone could think that the battlefield would be made better by removing this beautiful statue (beautiful both aesthetically and in terms of what it represents) is incomprehensible. If the bullies, whose goal is to inflict the maximum amount of pain possible on people who are different from them, get their way then I hope at least the statue will be returned to private land as it was before 2005, when the National Park Service took ownership of it. 

bookmark_border“I love breaking those things”

Posted on by Marissa

Dear “John Catdog”…

So you “love” destroying everything that makes life worth living?

You “love” inflicting excruciating and unbearable pain on people who’ve done nothing to deserve it?

You “love” bullying and tormenting people merely because they are different from the majority?

And if you really do love the things that I’ve listed above… why on earth would you brag about it?

Both John Catdog and the imbecile who “liked” his idiotic comment are despicable excuses for human beings who should be ashamed of themselves.

bookmark_borderNewspapers and reminders of trauma

Posted on by Marissa

One of numerous activities that I’ve given up since the statue genocide happened is reading the newspaper.

I used to read the Boston Globe every day, as well as two small local papers every week. But now the news is so filled with triggers, opinions that make me angry, and reminders of the horrible things that have happened, that I’ve decided to give it up. I have always valued being informed about world events, politics, and the happenings in my community, and have always found the news interesting. But these benefits are no longer worth the pain that consuming news now causes.

Last week, my dad visited my uncle at his new apartment and picked up a copy of that town’s local paper. Thinking he was being nice, he gave it to me, and against my better judgment I decided to read it.

Despite the fact that it was only a small, local weekly newspaper, I could feel my mood steadily decline while reading it.

A column about how the town was celebrating St. Patrick’s Day immediately triggered comparisons with how our society treats Columbus Day. Why is one ethnic group’s holiday embraced almost universally, with parades, the wearing of the green, playing of traditional Irish music, and consumption of traditional Irish food and drink, while another ethnic group’s holiday is either ignored, condemned, attacked, protested against, or abolished entirely?

I became angry when reading a press release from the office of Rep. Ayanna Pressley, which bragged about the “just and equitable” district she was creating by securing funding for childcare and programs to help young parents. How is it just or equitable to discriminate against people who do not have children? I found myself wondering.

Similar thoughts were brought forth by an article about a housing voucher program, which was described by the town’s mayor as particularly important because of the disproportionate impact of the housing crisis on people of color and families with young children. Again, I wondered why, in the eyes of society, do white people and people without children always seem to matter less?

The “Beacon Hill Roll Call” column reminded me of the bills to abolish Columbus Day, to force people to undergo medical procedures against their will, and to discriminate against people like me in various other ways, which have been considered by the state legislature at various points in time, some of which unfortunately are still under consideration.

An editorial about Women’s History Month brought to mind thoughts about why other heritage months, such as Confederate History Month and Italian Heritage Month, are not celebrated with equal enthusiasm.

Even an article about subway track work and station improvements caused a pang of sadness. As an autistic person, my special interest is history and statues, exactly the thing that our society over the past four years has decided to destroy. I know several fellow autistic people whose special interest is trains, and I know that they would enjoy reading about these new MBTA developments. It was bittersweet to think about how others are still able to enjoy news about their special interests, while for mine the only available news centers on condemnation and destruction.

The “On This Day In History” feature, something that had been my favorite part of every newspaper since I was 10 years old, reminded me of how much things have changed. I learned that on that particular date, Hernan Cortez had landed in what is now Mexico, and Jefferson Davis had signed a bill authorizing slaves to fight in the Confederate Army. These would simply have been interesting facts to my past self, but now I cannot hear the names of Cortez or Davis without being reminded of how our society has decided to attack, condemn, and largely obliterate from existence, these historical figures.

Because I have always found news interesting and have always valued being informed, my goal has been to one day add the news back into my life. But I have found that right now, the best way of building a life that is worth living is to turn towards my inner world and away from the outer one. Drawing, writing stories about my imaginary world, organizing my toy soldiers, figurines, and dolls, and spending time with my Stonewall statue… these are the activities that bring comfort, joy, peace, and a sense of control. The news, on the other hand, is filled with nothing but oppression, meanness, and injustice.

Perhaps this will change one day, but perhaps not. Maybe my healing will progress, my resilience will increase, my mental state will stabilize, and the world will change for the better, to the point where I will be able to add the news back into my life. But for now, it’s best that I stay away from it.

bookmark_borderPain and perspective

Posted on by Marissa

It’s difficult to live in a world that has decided to destroy everything that makes my life worth living. My existence over the past four years has been filled with pain so excruciating that prior to spring 2020, not only had I never before experienced such pain, but it hadn’t occurred to me that such pain was even possible. Over the past four years, I’ve worked to find some way of continuing on, some way of building a life of meaning and purpose in a society that believes I shouldn’t be allowed to exist.

Living this way is laborious, exhausting, and often demoralizing. But to some extent my efforts have been successful. I have dedicated my life to honoring the historical figures that I love. I advocate for them through my writing, which takes the form of this blog, emails to public officials, and hopefully one day a book. I keep them alive through my artwork, which I sell on my art website and at local craft fairs and festivals, through my Historical Heroes Blog, through collecting dolls and figurines depicting them, and through bringing new statues into the world. Additionally, I have tried to make my day-to-day life as rewarding as possible by eliminating unpleasant obligations and incorporating activities that bring me joy. Particularly over the past two years, these efforts have begun to pay off. Often, I do experience a sense of meaning and purpose. Often, I do feel that my life is worth living.

But not always. Sometimes the excruciating pain attacks. This might happen if a new atrocity is committed, or perhaps if I merely have a bad day. And when the excruciating pain attacks, it takes over my entire soul, so that nothing other than the pain exists. The thing about the excruciating pain is that it creates something of a catch-22. There are three theoretical ways of abating the misery, of making the situation just a tiny bit better. But the nature of the excruciating pain makes every option impossible, inappropriate, ineffective, or all of the above.

The three options are as follows:

  1. Expressing my anger and grief about the terrible thing that happened. This is certainly right, because anger and grief are the appropriate responses when a terrible thing happens. But when the agony is attacking, this can feel pointless. No words are adequate to express the full magnitude of what happened. Ranting wildly, in the strongest language imaginable, would be 100% justified but would also accomplish nothing other than making me look unhinged, which would be counterproductive with respect to my goal of advocating for the historical figures.
  2. Finding some positive aspect of the situation, or of historical figures in general. This might entail focusing on the statues that still remain, making new art depicting the historical figures, or reading about their lives. But when the agony is attacking, it feels as if everything with regards to historical figures is going badly, even if my logical brain knows that this is not 100% true. Focusing on the positive seems hollow and empty, a failure to acknowledge the full magnitude of the bad thing that happened.
  3. Ignoring the situation, and the historical figure topic entirely, and focusing on something else. This seems to be the worst of the three options. When something horrible happens to a historical figure, everything else in the world is like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. Thinking about, talking about, making a post about, or even caring about pets, food, sports, friends, or family, to give just a few examples, would represent a complete failure to acknowledge the badness of what has happened. Doing so would be petty, superficial, and callous.

When the excruciating pain strikes, it’s as if I am at the bottom of a pit, with no way to climb out. The walls of the pit are perfectly smooth, with no handholds, nothing to grab onto, no protruding pieces of rock on which I might be able to step. I cannot gain purchase, cannot hoist myself out. All possible ways of climbing out of the pit are closed off to me.

But over the past years, I’ve discovered that there is a fourth way out of the excruciating pain, albeit a way that I have no control over: time.

In time, the excruciating pain always subsides. Not permanently, alas, because it keeps recurring. But every time that the pain has attacked, it has eventually gone away. The agony that was nearly omnipresent from spring 2020 to summer 2022 has, since then, alternated with stretches of relatively okay days, days on which I experience a sense of meaning and purpose, and a sense that life is worth living.

I’ve gained a sense of perspective that I didn’t have when the statue genocide began. Although the excruciating pain, when it attacks, is all-consuming, I am now able to recognize, intellectually if not emotionally, that it is temporary.

While waiting for the agony to go away, I have found that the best thing to do is something productive. If the floor needs to be swept, I sweep the floor; if I haven’t exercised yet that day, I exercise; if it is nighttime, I go to bed. These things aren’t exactly fun, but they are useful. When I am in excruciating pain, I am going to be miserable no matter what I do, so I might as well do something that, once the pain subsides, I will be glad that I did.

This pain is probably something that I will need to deal with, to struggle with, to manage, for the rest of my life. It is only logical to experience agonizing and excruciating pain when people have done appallingly awful things. So I continue to fight for both myself and the historical figures. Despite the frequent setbacks and obstacles that I face, I continue to build bit by bit a life of meaning and purpose, a life that is worth living.