I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

Category: Lesbian Literary

  • text message yesterday from contributor Pat Patterson made me happy!


    “Look what I just found at Strand Bookstore in NYC…”

     

    One of the contributors to Southern Perspectives, Pat Patterson a/k/a Patti O’Furniture, texted this to me yesterday afternoon…followed by “proudly asked the clerk at Strand for your book and then showed her my contribution”

    Hello – first, thanks so much to Pat for the text and second, I encourage everyone to look for our book in bookstores around the country and shoot me a text when you find.

    I love to think that people in New York City(and other areas)  are reading about our part in the movement.

    What a lovely gift idea for celebrating Women’s History Month, too!

    Stay tuned.

  • My International Women’s Day


    I wrote this piece on March 08, 2017 and feel it’s worthy of inclusion in my Women’s History Month this year. I hope you agree.

    Spring, 2017 will be the year I move on to my 71st birthday. I know, I know…unbelievable…and apparently my Mouth Almighty, Tongue Everlasting in my seventies shows no sign of a slowdown – if anything I seem to have gained speed with my posts following the not-too-distant sixties.

    As I looked over the more than 80 posts I’ve made since April, 2016 when I began this year by talking about the need for a personal tune-up, I am amazed at how many opinions I’ve had on such a wide variety of topics. Geez Louise. Somebody stop me. I can’t shut up. Case in point, read on.

    Change is in the air at Casa de Canterbury this spring, and Pretty and I are excited about our trip to New Orleans for the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival March 24th. – 26th. I’ve been invited to participate on a panel called Home is Where the Art Is, or is it?  Plus I will do a reading from my short story that will be included in their 2017 anthology. I’m super thrilled.

    We’re hoping to go to Dallas the following week for the NCAA Women’s Final Four the first weekend in April which would give us an opportunity to return to Worsham Street for a long overdue visit with The Little Women of Worsham and the Fabulous Huss Brothers. That would be icing on the proverbial cake. (Michael Reames, are you making me a real birthday cake this year? Money is no object. Pretty will contact you.)

    Today I was cleaning out my extensive collection of family memorabilia which always reminds me of my need to let these pictures and items go – just let them go. They take up space needed for…what? Office supplies. Packing materials. Unsold books. Carolina Panthers commemorative coins. Five years of tax returns. Old cameras.

    This is one of the pictures I found –  I totally lost it when I saw the image of these two significant women in my life before their respective illnesses took them to a different place.

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    My two moms, Selma and Willie, and me

    This picture was taken in 2007 during a visit with my mothers for both of their birthdays in March of that year. Five years later in the spring of 2012, Willie died on April 14th. and Selma followed her eleven days afterwards on the 25th. Wham, bam…gone. Were they ready to go? Of course. Had they suffered long enough? Surely. But the loss of two women who had such monumental influence in my life was devastating. I felt like my connection to what had been my home was broken and couldn’t be fixed.

    In reality and from the perspective of five years down the road from that awful place, the connection to home and family isn’t really lost. Powerful images of the people in my past live on today and remind me of what is most important for the future.

    Today is International Women’s Day, a special time to honor the women we cherish, a day of reminder that our world would be very different without the women in our lives; it’s a woman’s day away from the ordinary.We are lucky because they’ll only be gone for one day and will be back with us tomorrow.

    Pretty, the adventure continues, and I thank you for the home we share and the knowledge that you’ll be here tomorrow morning when we start another day together.

    For the rest of my women friends and followers in cyberspace, celebrate yourselves today. You are enough.

     

     

     

  • sheroes on sheroes: Congresswomen Ayanna Pressley and Shirley Chisholm


    Much has been said about the new look of Congress as the halls of our nation’s highest legislative chambers began to swarm with new members who were  sworn in and trying to find their offices during the first week of January, 2019. Like wow look how many women are moving in this year (117 women elected or appointed — 102  in the House and 10 in the Senate), like wow is this some kind of record number for women (it is  – the highest number of women before was 89 in 2016), like wow this makes me so frigging happy (this last one was said by me).

    Rep. Ayanna Pressley was the first black woman elected from the State of Massachusetts and had hoped to be assigned to Shirley Chisholm’s (first black woman elected to Congress in 1968) old office. The office assignments were done by a lotto system with Pressley drawing #38 which meant she had little opportunity to choose the office she wanted. However, luck wasn’t totally against her because another incoming freshman Rep Katie Hill (D – Cal) drew lucky #7 and switched with Pressley. Rep. Pressley moved in to Longworth 1130, Chisholm’s old office, while Rep. Hill was just down the hall in 1108.

    During her 2018 campaign, then candidate Pressley often wore a $6 lapel button with the letters BYOC stamped on it. BYOC – bring your own chair – a reminder of the faith and commitment of Shirley Chisholm, the daughter of immigrants, in the American political system and the democratic process.

    Both Reps. Pressley and Chisholm shared similar fights in their efforts to become elected to the House of Representatives. Chisholm who served in the House from 1969 – 1983  ran on the slogan “Unbought and Unbossed” as she defeated two other black candidates in the primary for the redrawn 12th District of New York in 1968.  Against all odds Ms. Chisholm then defeated James L. Farmer, Jr. in the general election. Farmer, the former director of the Congress for Racial Equality, ran as a Libertarian.

    Fifty years later in 2018 Candidate Pressley defeated ten-term incumbent Michael Capuano in the Democratic primary of the Massachusetts 7th. Congressional District, a district where the majority was not white. The 7th. District had been represented in the past by such Democratic legends as former President John F. Kennedy and Speaker of the House Tip O’Neill. Interestingly, contemporary icons of the black caucus in the House, Rep. John Lewis (D – Ga) and Rep. Maxine Waters (D – Cal), did not support Ayanna Pressley in her challenge to Congressman Capuano. No Republican ran against Ms. Pressley in the general election so her win in the primary assured her victory which sent her to the House to become a member of the history-making group of women elected to Congress in 2018.

    “I am not the candidate of black America, although I am black and proud. I am not the candidate of the woman’s movement of this country, although I am a woman and equally proud of that. I am the candidate of the people and my presence before you symbolizes a new era in American political history.”

    This was a  quote taken from Shirley Chisholm’s announcement to enter the 1972 Democratic Presidential Primary as the first black woman to run for president in a major political party. Although she was unsuccessful in her bid, her courage planted a seed of belief that women deserved a place at the proverbial table. That belief continued to grow as more and more women of all shapes, colors,  religious faiths, cultures, sexual orientation, ethnicity, political affiliations – women in all areas of the country ran for local, state and national elections during the next fifty years.

    This past weekend I heard Rep. Pressley in an interview with Lawrence O’Donnell on MSNBC. I had heard her being interviewed before, but this one felt different for me. She had been invited to talk about her proposed amendment on a House bill to lower the voting age to 16. I confess I hadn’t really given a thought to lowering the voting age, but I have to say Congresswoman Pressley’s passion and rationale for Age 16 voting were impressive. The amendment had failed but she had convinced 122 other members to sign on – and had also received the support of Speaker Pelosi, which I assume for a freshman must be like having a coach pick you to play for your team during March Madness.

    Boston, MA, 12/5/2018 — Congresswoman-elect Ayanna Pressley listens as a fellow City Councilor wishes her farewell at City Hall. (Jessica Rinaldi/Globe Staff)Topic: 06ayannaReporter:

    My ability to predict the future, let alone anyone’s political future, is notably suspect. However, I told Pretty the next morning I had just heard the first woman of color to be elected President of the United States talking with Lawrence O’Donnell. Forgive me, Senator Harris. I’m hoping I’m wrong.

    I celebrate Representative Ayanna Pressley in Women’s History Month and have added her to my list of sheroes – a list that already included Shirley Chisholm. The time for change is upon us. We must have old memories and young hopes. And oh yes, by the way, I am now convinced 16 years is the perfect age for voting in these times when young people lead the way with their hopes for a better tomorrow.

    Onward.

    Stay tuned.

    (no copyright infringement intended on images)

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • wonder women – southern style (part II)


    A politician/philanthropist from Faith, North Carolina who settled in Charleston; an attorney who moved to Columbia from Key West, Florida; a midlands YWCA executive director from Detroit, Michigan — three women whose different, yet similar, stories were chronicled in Southern Perspectives on the Queer Movement: Committed to Home. I celebrate these women today during Women’s History Month because they all  overcame a youthful sense of isolation and fear of discovery to become leaders of the LGBTQ movement in South Carolina. Regardless of their diverse backgrounds that brought them to our state or the different motivations that inspired them, these women stood on the battleground of equality and refused to surrender.

    Linda Ketner was the first openly gay candidate for federal office in South Carolina. As the 2008 Democratic nominee for the US Congress, District 1, she won more than 48% of the vote, narrowly losing to a four-term incumbent in a district held by Republicans since 1980.  Linda’s fearless leadership in forming organizations such as the Alliance for Full Acceptance and South Carolina Equality plus her generous financial support of individuals and other organizations within the LGBTQ community have cemented her place in our history.

    In Southern Perspectives Linda wrote about her own spiritual journey: “It was at this time [having found a religious community in an all-black church] that it became essential to both my mental health and my soul to ‘take all of me with me everywhere I went’ – to come all the way out to everyone I knew. The decision to do that for me was like jumping off a cliff where you didn’t know if the ground was eight inches below or eight thousand feet. It was an act of faith. What I hadn’t expected was that rather than falling, I soared. My heart soared with a freedom, integrity, and peace I had never known. I was living my life with integrity and congruence. I was living authentically. Secrets kill. Secrets produce a life of shame and a shameful life. And I have never known an LGBTQ person who regretted coming out, no matter what the consequences.”

    Linda Ketner at a Pride Parade in 2013

    Nekki Shutt was born in Honolulu, Hawaii into a military family that traveled in eight states before she graduated from Key West High School in Florida. She moved to South Carolina in 1986 to finish her undergraduate degree at the University of South Carolina where she also finished law school in 1995. Nekki served on the national board of the Gay and Lesbian Victory Fund and co-chaired the board from 1998 – 2000. She helped to found South Carolina Equality, served as its first board chair and was involved in leadership roles in a number of other community organizations. She was, and continues to be, a warrior woman.

    Nekki was one of the lead attorneys in the Condon v. Haley case that resulted in South Carolina’s becoming the thirty-fifth state to recognize marriage equality in November of 2014. She wrote in Southern Perspectives: “That case was the highlight of my legal career, because it brought my passions for both practicing law and civil rights together in one place at one time…This was not an accident, and it is not a result of Will and Grace or Ellen. It is the result of people coming out to their friends and families and neighbors and coworkers because they felt it was a safe environment. The people and organizations of the LGBTQ community have created that environment by their actions during the past thirty years. I am proud of our state and proud to have been a part of this movement. To whom great things are given, great responsibility comes. I had incredible role models in my family as a child and in the larger world as an adult. What I do as an activist is my way to give back and follow in very big footsteps. We have more battles ahead in the war for equal rights, but I predict we will win…”

    Nekki Shutt (l.) at 2015 Pride Parade with her law partner Malissa Burnette

    Carole Stoneking (1937 – 2016) was born and raised in Michigan with an undergraduate degree from Wayne State University in Detroit. She worked for twenty-seven years for the YWCA and came to Columbia as its executive director. Following her career in the YWCA, Carole took a new path as the owner of the Stress Management Institute of Therapeutic Massage in Columbia for the next twenty-three years before her retirement. Carole was a social justice activist throughout her life; she was president of the Columbia chapter of the National Organization for Women, board member of the South Carolina Gay and Lesbian Business Guild, a past delegate for South Carolina Equality, a board member for the South Carolina Council on Aging, a board member for Old Lesbians Organizing for Change, and a member of that organization’s national steering committee.

    In Southern Perspectives Carole says: “I came out of the closet in 1956. That was thirteen years before Stonewall. I came out in a tumultuous time when it was taboo…there were no organizations helping gays or lesbians. No agencies were trying to help people from feeling shame. Only the bartenders were there to help people keep from starving or to provide space for people to sleep for the night. There were no colleges or universities offering places for lesbians to study about the effects of shame or suicide. I faced a great deal of hardship and criticism from everyone, including my own mother who told me ‘I would rather have seen you be a prostitute.’ At that moment I felt all the shame of a lifetime…However, I am glad that I did not hold it in; being out and fighting for an equal right is a virtuous thing.”

    Carole Stoneking and OLOC banner in Pride Parade in Columbia

    I met Carole shortly after she moved to South Carolina and watched her grow older but continue to show up for meetings and parades for the next thirty years. I always admired her for that. She never quit believing that the fight for an equal right was a virtuous thing. In July, 2008 (at age 71) she gave a speech at a regional Older Lesbians Organizing for Change meeting. That speech has much more meaning for me now  – luckily the talking points are preserved in Southern Perspectives. This is talking point #8:

    “Is this ageism I am feeling? Is this the time in my life when I need to be focusing on the reason I am here on earth? Or maybe a new reason I am here? B.B. Copper says’Unless old lesbians are remembered as sexual, attractive, useful, integral parts of the women-loving world, then current lesbian identity is a temporary mirage, not a new social statement of female empowerment.’”

    Pride – 2015 – our history belongs to you now

    Candace Chellew-Hodge, Harriet Hancock, Deborah Hawkins, Linda Ketner, Nekki Shutt, Carole Stoneking — these are a few of my wonder women, southern style who began a fight for themselves and for those who will come after them and sought to honor those who came before them. The fight took place in a conservative, sometimes hostile, environment but these women persevered in their own battlefields to win some of the fights, lose others, but know that the fight was a virtuous thing. We do, indeed, have more battles ahead, but I also predict we will win. Onward.

    Happy Women’s History Month!

    Stay tuned.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • wonder women – southern style (Part I)


    Don’t get me wrong. The men whose stories were included in Southern Perspectives on the Queer Movement: Committed to Home are just as important as these women I celebrate today, but it is Women’s History Month after all. As I wrote in the Prologue of the book: “The narratives in this collection tell the stories of ordinary people who became extraordinary in our struggles for equality in a place and time that made change seemingly impossible.”Ordinary women and men became extraordinary as they organized the LGBTQ grass roots movement in a hostile environment from the HIV/AIDS pandemic in the 1980s to marriage equality in 2014….and beyond. The fight continues.

    Candace Chellew-Hodge, the current pastor of Jubilee! Circle and one of the co-hosts of the first LGBTQ radio show in South Carolina which began in 2005, Rainbow Radio, had this to say about that experience in Southern Perspectives: “[On Rainbow Radio] for the first time, a long-silenced group of citizens was granted access to the microphone, and their stories of hiding, living in shame, and feeling condemned by their God and their family were at once heartbreaking and revolutionary. They were stories of hardship, trial, tears, laughter, triumph, and joy, even in the mist of oppression and despair.”

    Candace Chellew-Hodge co-hosted Rainbow Radio

    In the fall of 1980, according to Harriet Hancock’s essay in Southern Perspectives, her son Greg came out to her with the support of Harriet’s sister Diane who was very close to her nephew. With the words Mom, I’m gay, Harriet’s life changed forever. Greg was the middle child of her three children. He was enrolled at the University of South Carolina – along with Harriet who at 44 had decided to go back to college to become an attorney.

    “My heart broke for him, but somehow I managed to keep my composure. I sat down, and with a sigh of relief, I said, “Is that all?’…I don’t think we consider the struggle that many gays and lesbians have in overcoming their own internalized homophobia. Unfortunately some never make it.”

    Now known in South Carolina as the Mother of Pride for her activism in organizing the first Pride Marches in Columbia in the early 1990s and countless other outrageous acts and everyday rebellions against social injustice during the next 30 years, the Harriet Hancock LGBT Community Center was named to honor her commitment to the queer community and continues to be a beacon of enlightenment for youth and adults in all segments of the population.

    Harriet and her son Greg at an early Pride March on State House steps

    “My phone rang at midnight…[An older gay man] told me I was a troublemaker for organizing the march and how it would make more trouble for gay people…The last thing he said to me was ‘There will be blood running down Main Street tomorrow, and it will be on your hands.’” – Harriet Hancock in Southern Perspectives

    Thankfully, the caller was wrong, and those empowered standard bearers became the catalysts for change in South Carolina and kept marching every year –  all the way to the nation’s capitol a few years later.

    “In 1993 I went to Washington, DC, for the national march….I stayed outside the city and took the subway to the Mall. I heard people getting excited on the train on the way to the mall, and it sounded like a symphony orchestra to me. By the time I walked up the stairs from the train and stepped out in the sunlight, it was as if the drums and tympani were exploding.” – Deborah Hawkins in Southern Perspectives

    Deborah Hawkins, owner of lesbian bar Traxx

    By the time Deborah marched in DC in 1993, she had owned and operated a lesbian bar near the railroad tracks in Columbia since March, 1984. “I was thinking we needed a place where women could gather. We needed a country club, a place where we could get together for more reasons than just beer and such. I felt like it was my home, and I wanted people to come in and be happy. I was the hostess. I wanted the women to have somewhere to go, because a lot of them were lacking someone in their life to let them know they were loved. I could see…they were different and felt the difference, and I wanted them to know that I cared about them and loved them. That was my goal for opening Traxx.” — Southern Perspectives

    Candace once thought of South Carolina as a place you went through when you were driving someplace else. Nevertheless, she moved from Atlanta to Sumter in 2003 in search of a new family life that led her to become a reluctant apostle to the LGBTQ people of faith in the midlands for the next 15 years. Harriet was born in 1936 and raised in Columbia in a house built on land deeded to her family in 1784. A disastrous 25-year marriage to a troubled man led her away from the state but her determination to make a better life for herself and her children brought her home in 1978 to her larger family in Columbia that loved and supported her. Deborah’s family lived in the same house in West Columbia from the time she was born until the day she left for college. As a young adult in the 1970s, she hitchhiked around Europe for six weeks with three friends, all planning to never come back home. Riding around in a van through the Transylvania forest at a hundred miles an hour on the Autobahn,  the group of four travelers realized they’d gotten in the wrong vehicle. It was time to go home.

    These women were ordinary women who became extraordinary  – their stories are remarkable.  They heard voices crying for help in a wilderness of needs in a state smothered by conservative rural  leadership. Here are we, they answered. We won’t leave you, but we will work for change.

    Stay tuned for the conclusion.