When I began my blog some 12 years ago I had decided to do one a day, more if an idea hit me. I guess it’s like jogging which almost becomes an addiction if any of my running friends are any indication.
I have come to a point now when I have to break my streak.
I will be traveling to Oklahoma to attend an event at the University of Central Oklahoma in Edmund.
Living in Massachusetts now, the art work and legal papers I had accumulated over my 18 years in that state, work and papers that have little if any meaning up here but were a part of GLBT history in Oklahoma, not just because of me, but many others still here and gone, that got the Oklahoma City Schools District to add “Sexual Orientation” and “Gender Identity” into school policies, I offered it all to the University of Central Oklahoma if for no other reason than to make me feel comfortable that, whether or not they are ever looked at, they are available to anyone who might find them useful.
Volunteering at a museum, I have seen things left from history that were minor things of little consequence until someone during research found their relevance and importance. I figured that somewhere in the distant future some students will come across the collection when moving boxes looking for what they need and may either look at for the first and only time since it was stored and shrug their shoulders in acceptance as they put the stuff back in its cubby-hole, or might give a student a topic for a paper about obscure historical events.
If nothing else, it could all be thrown out by the University, but at least it wasn’t thrown out by a total stranger cleaning out my apartment after my unfortunate and untimely demise.
I suppose the timing of the acceptance of materials was fortunate as a grad student majoring in Museum Studies preparing for a career in museum curation was assigned to be the curator of the “bequest”. I am assuming that she, like I had done, chose a practical action as opposed a thesis paper. I avoided my thesis by actually working in a Special Education setting to show my practical knowledge rather than my grasp of theory.
Things were quiet for a while as I assumed it was all in a cubby-hole in the basement of a campus building, but, then I received word that the student-curator was mounting an exhibit that was to include artwork and coverage of the events to which it was all related, generally “Gay Equality”, more specifically, GLBT Student protection in school district policy.
The Whaling Museum which is actually the Old Dartmouth Historic Society (Dartmouth being the first settlement in the area which now covers the South Coast of Massachusetts of which New Bedford would eventually become its own town then city) has a large collection of art by many artists long dead, and, rather than actually knowing what the artist’s idea was when approaching the painting, there is a lot of speculation filtered through the knowledge of the viewer.
There is a huge painting by a famous local artist that hangs in a hallway in front of which someone had once placed a chair so people could look at the picture and see what they could come up with for meaning. Judging from its size and detail there has to be more to the painting than is obvious, but the artist, long dead, has to leave its meaning up to the viewer right or wrong.
In my case, I am still around so the student-curator could contact me to clarify any questions.
The proof of the write-up she sent for my inspection contained information that although correct, was approached in terms of 2023 as opposed the realities of the years 1997-2009, so the facts became murky and it appeared that I had left town before the final wording was added with my work being the foundation for adding the words after I left.
The reality was I stayed, was wrongfully dismissed for my GLBT student advocacy, won my job back in a District Court and prevailed in the school administrators’ appeal in the Appellate Court, the language was added, and, after 3 semesters with the words in place, I left.
I did not want to become one of those people who, having been successful with one thing, is assumed to be an expert in all related topics, something I found with others in the past to be counter productive.
One has to know when to exit the stage.
Had I been dead, the easy to correct errors would have been part of the official story as, it seems, no one is interested in reading the book that contains the actual story.
A second, common mistake in looking back is to view people and events from a modern standpoint and interpret them accordingly.
There is confusion with the actual events that took place at the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village that night in June 1969, because modern terms and understandings are being applied to an era fifty years in the past, so the sexual orientations and gender identites of participants are being viewed from now as opposed to then and people, in spite of good intentions, are being rewritten so they are no longer who they actually were and often erased as they have yet to serve a purpose and may never as being hidden over time creates oblivion.
Although “gender” and “sexuality” are important topics to today’s college and graduate school students, these were presented as what I was dealing with which to me was not only extremely generic, but had me not knowing what it was I had done. I requested that rather than the generic terms, the story should refer specifically to adding the words “sexual orientation” and “gender Identity”, much more important than a general topic.
The demand for the school district to do the right thing was specific and at the time, adding the specific terms “Sexual Orientation” and “Gender Identity” was extremely important. To reduce them to generic topics reduces that importance.
In both cases, had I been dead, my story, as presented, would have told a faulty tale that would become the official story having me the person who had been run off before the task was completed and only a participant.
One time when visiting home in Boston at Christmas, in one of those mother/son conversations, my mother told me that although she and my father would love me to move back home as they were getting up there, they realized that if I did that it would look like I had been run off and, worse, even if it was clear I chose to leave, I would be abandoning the GLBT kids who would have to wait for another day to be protected by the School District. Their agreed upon “blessing” was that I go back and win, leave after all was complete, and, hopefully, they would both be around when I did.
The did not want to have been responsible for this abandoning of the students.
Unfortunately my mother died a year before the language was added, so I put a copy of the Daily Oklahoman, the local newspaper, with its article about the addition of the words on her headstone in lieu of flowers that Christmas.
So it was important that the order of victory and departure be correct as it involved more than just me and those in OKC who supported me.
Makes one wonder if VanGogh was really that poor or people assumed his “He Shed” in the backyard was his home and just never asked while he was alive.
Corrections have been made.
So I am heading to Oklahoma, and, as a USRail pass was less expensive than a round trip plane ticket, intend to visit places from my past on the West Coast, stopping as many times as my pass allows and staying for as long in each place as my bank account can handle.
A farewell tour of sorts.
Because of this, I imagine drawing a cartoon will be near impossible, what with the rocking of the train, and, since I will be revisiting old haunts and will have no control over my schedule, I will be slowing down my blogs until my return in the middle of May.
Needless to stay because of layovers at certain stations along the route, there might be a chance to at least attempt a cartoon, and I will attempt to be current.
Otherwise, hoping not to drive people away, I will republish posts related to the reason for my trip, and perhaps some travel commentary when possible.
Thank you, you who have been reading my blogs.
Although I know where I will be, I have no idea what is to happen when I get there. Generic plans with only a one-day three hour commitment with all else up in the air.
I will be back on track after the trip and back to the pledge I made to myself and see how long the future trail goes unbroken.
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