I am in a perpetual state of flux. I am back on the East Coast after finishing college on the West. I’m still not sure if I made the right decision, but I know it wasn’t wrong either. Because, even if I am away from all of the friends I made in college, live in a town with a history of queerphobia, xenophobia and velocipedophobia, and feel overwhelmed by the conflicting schedules, the emotions and demands of my family, this place does give me structure. I may not always fall in line with that structure–in fact, I often revel in transgressing it–but it helps me define myself (it at least lets me see what I am not). I hope. I am trying to find something constant within me. My whole life, my identity, has been a process of fighting preconceived notions. It still is. I am neither foreign nor American. I’m not gentile or Jewish. I’m not gay or straight, butch or femme. I’m not Eastern or Western. Yet all of these are a part of me, and maybe one day I’ll, as they say, “pick a side.” But for now it’s time for me to stop defending myself and tell people to take me as I am or leave. The door’s right there; no offense will be taken if you choose to take off.
…Still with me? Alright then. Over the next few weeks (months? years? days?) I’ll be trying to find stability out of my somewhat chaotic point of view (read: identity crisis). I’ll be talking about a range of subjects that seem disparate and find ways to unite them: Polish/Jewish relations, privilege, issues of immigration and assimilation, so-called ethical living, borders and migration, bisexual topics, autism and ablism, Eastern Europe (or Central Europe, or East-Central Europe, or all of the above), and other things, including art, literature, and film. And biking, of course. That’s a given. What I’ll hopefully get out of this, and perchance you will too, is that I’ll see something fundamental about the fabric of being human in this universe. Something that transcends politics, national borders, orientations, language, and even time. And, hopefully, this may have the power to galvanize people to acknowledge each other’s differences and unite for something greater. I’ll sign off with a quote from one of my favorite books, Keri Hulme’s The Bone People: “But all together, they have become the heart and muscles and mind of something perilous and new, something strange and growing and great. Together, all together, they are the instruments of change.” Over and out.