I'm not the one (updated)

The following occurred yesterday (the morning of July 21, 2005).  It happened before I knew about the second round of London bombings and well before I read about New York’s decision regarding its subways.

:+:

I started a new job this week. Oh joy, oh thrill, oh giddy delight. In some ways, it’s like the first day of school all over again. New names to attach to new faces, confusing hallways that lead to unfamiliar rooms, office supplies to break in and new routines to develop and appreciate.

When they showed me exactly where I’d be working, I took in the expansive white space and felt surprise mingle with inspiration. The area I was surveying was easily twice the size of my old office; the only object taking up room was the PC. In a matter of seconds, I filled in the entire empty with picture frames, calendar, vase, enormous coffee mug…I couldn’t wait. This would be where I’d be spending the majority of my waking hours from now on; I wanted it to be aesthetically pleasing.

Later on that evening, I made a list, checked it twice; I went around my apartment to fill an old Nordie’s bag with stuff naughty (read: junk food and ritter sport) and nice.  Satisfied, I went to bed.

The next morning, I re-examined the bag of random tchotchkes and supplies I had amassed the night before for my new second home. Though it’s my preferred method of packing things, I wondered if the simple shopping bag was really a wise choice. I was tired, and the idea of carrying it did not appeal.  I suddenly yearned for something mobile, like my carry-on bag. I settled for a duffle bag that I could drag, thanks to two very helpful wheels…perfect. No strain on my shoulder or wrist, no possibility of anything breaking.   Off I went to work.

Once I was outside, I felt odd schlepping my stuff down the street but I quickly squashed any self-consciousness that the sound of the wheels or the sight of me were generating. People took the metro all the time to the airport. That’s probably what strangers were thinking if they saw me. Of course. 

A block-and-a-half later, I alighted from the escalator which descends into the metro and noticed that people were looking at me in a less than friendly way. The thwack, thwack, THWACK of my wheels on the odd old terra-cotta tile that fills all stations was horrid; it ricocheted off the ceiling and surrounded me. I cringed. Ick, I’d be giving me dirty looks, too.  I was a public nuisance.
Amid the racket, I felt that unnerving tingle one experiences when being followed. I shook my head impatiently at my inaccurate spider sense. “Get over yourself. It’s rush hour. Of COURSE people are following you, they have to get to work and they’re right behind you!”

Down I went to the station platform, where it was exceptionally muggy. I was unexpectedly grateful for the free tabloid that had been handed to me before I hit the metro escalators. I folded it and began fanning myself furiously. What a day to wear a boucle suit. Sure, it had a rather short skirt but it was still uncomfortably warm. Yay for dress codes and summer. I grimaced as I worried about melting before I even got to work. Someone was watching me imitate air conditioning. I turned surreptitiously and did a ridiculously awkward double take as I noticed the piercing blue eyes of someone who was armed.  Of course.  We're on orange alert when it comes to transportation. The man with the gun slowly smiled at me as I hastily looked away.

More people joined us on the platform, and I moved away, further down the line. How silly of me to hang out near the bottom of the escalator— of course it was going to get crowded. I’ve been vaguely paranoid ever since I heard about that woman who was shoved in front of a subway in nyc. I didn’t like how close I was to the edge.

Giving up on feeling comfortable, I opened up the tabloid to a random page near the middle. Something about London and the attacks…wait. Was someone behind me gawking at me, AGAIN? For some reason, I felt unease.  This time, I was determined to turn around smoothly.  There was no one. I was slowly going mad. I started fanning myself again, as if cooler air would protect my fleeting sanity. I turned towards the opposite direction to check the status of the next Orange line train on the digital sign, but I never read it.

“How are you today?”

It was the police officer.

“I’m…fine."  Dear Lord, what was he doing here?  How did he seemingly materialize from out of the humidity?

“Where are you off to?”

“Work.”

“Where do you work?”

I suddenly wished I had something with me that proved my destination, though I immediately recoiled internally that I had even conceived such a thought. This was starting to get to me and to a few others nearby, judging from the looks on their faces. I answered and he narrowed his eyes.

“You’re not nervous about anything, are you?”, he said, referring to my frequent self-fanning.

Oh gawd. Why. WHY did he have to go there? I’d been stifling the chip on my shoulder, the paranoia, and the fear this whole time. I replied negatively and mentioned that it’s the middle of summer. He gave me what “Maisnon” calls the elevator look before settling on my feet. Except it wasn’t my ballet-inspired flats he was taking in…it was my bag.

I can’t explain the maelstrom I immediately felt within…rage, hurt, confusion…ultimately resignation.

“Would you like me to open my bag?” I blurted out.

“Well-“

“You’re welcome to go through it.”

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary right now…”

It didn’t matter, though. Everything had gone pear-shaped. I was suddenly aware of dozens of eyes staring and glaring my way. I was miserable. I wanted to say something or somehow prove that I was just like them, a commuter who was cranky for the next train, that I was just moving into my new office at work…

I knew there was nothing I could say or do.

Mercifully, the train arrived a minute later and I managed to snag a seat. I tried to focus on the paper, but it was no use. I was still getting crossly-examined by suspicious metro-takers. I wanted to laugh a brittle, bitter laugh when I thought to myself, “I’ll take my jacket off and open the bag to put it in and…and…and then they’ll see it’s just junk, that there’s nothing crazy in there.” What on earth was I thinking? Could I really combat the stone-cold resentment and paranoia that each of them was projecting, by offering up my belongings as proof that I meant no harm? I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

When my stop came, I took my baggage with me. A few moments later, I noticed my reflection in the mirrored double doors of my new building. I looked defeated. In my first meeting, I said nothing. The entire incident played over and over again on a dreadful loop in my mind. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I take a bag on the metro? Misery begat a subdued anger: why shouldn’t I be able to schlep a bag somewhere? I didn’t do a damned thing wrong. This was insanely unfair.  And frustrating.  How am I supposed to get anything done if I can't carry something?  I don’t go anywhere without my laptop, so at a minimum, I’m always going to be toting the sleek black messenger bag which houses THAT.

My head was spinning at this point, the questions my brain was posing to no one multiplied faster than brooms in Fantasia. Do they really think terrorists wear boucle, camellia pins and pleated skirts? What do I have to wear so that I can just blend in and be treated/ignored like everyone else? Would it ever be okay to be brown?  Should I have worn the prominent gold cross that has graced my neck since I was a year old to claim Christianity as a mantle of “not me!”?   Do I look like a muslim?  Would a female suicide bomber show this much leg?  I hated the way I was starting to think.  I hated that I had no answers. All I was sure of was a sucky sort of resignation that this was now my world, and I’d have to consciously battle the worst of me so that I didn’t turn into someone who was hateful and ignorant. 

At the end of my day, I walked out of work. I had no baggage. My rolling bag was tucked under my desk. I couldn’t go through all of that again, I just couldnt. Wouldn’t. Shouldn’t. Still, I have the sinking feeling I will.  I can walk around with my birth certificate laminated and hanging from a lanyard around my neck, I can wave a small American flag wherever I go, I can plead with people to not assume the worst about me but it’s no use. 

After the Iran hostage crisis, I was hurriedly pulled inside our home in the bay area, when my mother heard people screaming, “Go back to Iran” at bewildered, four-year old me, right before they threw a volley of rotten eggs.  That was the end of my playing outside.

After 9-11, I looked Indian enough to escape scrutiny and inconvenience.  It was Arabs who were evil.  Aside from never having a peaceful experience at Airport security, I was relatively unaffected, in a public sense.

Now it’s 2005 and the hateful assholes who blew up 56 people in London are brown.  They look like me.  They look Indian.  Not Arab, not turbaned, not “eastern”, no.  They might as well have been wearing cursed Abercrombie and Fitch while on those surveillance tapes.  They misguidedly think they are on their way to paradise and free virgins, while leaving those of us who resemble them in a fresh new hell where everyone’s fucked.

My sister (active duty- Air Force) can get sent to the middle east for the second time in as many years, she can give up her life for this ineffective, shortsighted, poorly-executed and shittily-planned war on terror…and it doesn’t matter.  As long as deluded South Asian fundamentalists whore themselves out for their terrorist pimps, once she’s out of her BDUs, she’s an evil slut, too.  If that patriotic sibling of mine is misjudged and profiled, what hope is there for civilian me?  I can’t do anything, except cynically wait until the next tragedy occurs, and we have a new villain who doesn’t look like me to vilify and fear.

:+:

addendum:  someone who commented mentioned that there were things i could do besides "cynically wait until the next" villain replaced our current one (aka the one whom i look like)...working against ignorance and fending off threats to our civil liberties IS important, but i'm not going to "do" that.

you see, i already have.  i don't expect the readers of my blog to know this, but i've spent the vast majority of my adult life working for non-profits; the last one i worked for did exactly what you recommend.  it's emotionally exhausting to fight the good fight and after almost a decade of doing so, i'm tired.  i'm also broke, since i can't defer $65,000 in student loans any longer. 

this is the dirty little secret of growing old-- whether or not I choose to accept it, like my legendary metabolism, the flame within burns slower.  mundane obligations eclipse my heart's whims. though i was once a "unique", fiery, passionate activist, i woke up one day and found that i was 30. 

like all of you, i have bills to pay, but unlike me at 27, i can't tend bar all night long to supplement the pittance that non-profits pay, like i used to, when i'd go to bed gnashing my teeth over injustice, dream of goodness triumphing over evil and then wake up four hours later to charge out my front door, on my way to battle those who suck.

it's lame, but it's true.  i've made my peace with it b/c i still agitate, but i do it differently than i used to-- i blog.  my old non-profit worked to increase political awareness; back then, even at my most productive, i didn't influence, affect or inform a fraction of those whom i have the privilege of speaking to now.  my loans get paid and i still have somewhere to channel my righteous indignation.  the system works.

Comments

[Josh]

That really is not fun. I've never had anything like that happen to me (I'm a white guy, so go figure). Though I probably would have noticed you as well. Not cause you are, as we so delicately put it "brown", I just get twitchy around people who bring luggage on subways. When you live in NYC you begin to notice how woefully exposed you are when you are on any mass transport, especially the subway. The two things that freak me on subways are luggage people (on a train that doesn't go anywhere near the airport) or those guys that talk to themselves very loudly.

My funny story about racial profiling (I know there are so many...oh wait) happened in Jersey. It was sunday evening and I was walking out of a bookstore to my car. I noticed this black kid sort of just walking around the center of the lot, looking a little nervous. I said to myself he looks a bit nervous, what's he up to? Then I reminded myself that just because a black kid was in a parking lot doesn't mean he's stealing cars. So, convinced that I had come to some inner peace on this issue, I proceeded to remotely unlock my car. And then three black kids jumped out of it. "Hey wait a minute. That black kid is stealing my car!" After that I quickly backed away from my car while their getaway car blew by me.

Anyway, I guess sometimes the racial profiling crap does make a bit of sense (it's depressing). I guess it's just a bit of instinct. But as per your expierence I wouldn't have been gawking at you (at least not cause I suspected you of being a terrorist, you ain't hard on the eyes and what are subway platforms for if not to look at pretty girls?). I've resigned myself to the fact that if I am going to be blown up by a crazy, well I can't do much about it. Especially now that they are getting nationals to do it in their own home. I mean what can you do against that? Either way, I'm sorry that happened to you, what a terrible way to start a day.

[Madhuri]

Just happened upon your blog, great post. So many emotions while reading it. But why do you have to wait until the next enemy comes along? Shouldn't racial profiling be something that (ideally) all of us fight against, not just the profiled? And the "racial profiling making a bit of sense" *doesn't* quite make sense. If your car is stolen by a white male, would you have said to yourself, "I KNEW it. I should've been more careful when i saw that white kid." Or what about the OK city bombings? Was every white Christian male pulled over who happened to be carrying a big bag past a building? Obviously, because we're in the minority, easy to pick on us. But doesn't make it right.

[Josh]

I wasn't picking on anyone, didn't mean for it to be taken that way. I can look to an ideal world with the best of 'em. Where everyone is totally equal, poverty doesn't exist, cancer is cured, and women make the same as men for the same job, but that's not where we live. The problem with your example of OK City is that OK and other examples of white christain terror are a different animal from muslim extremist terror. McVeigh was a lone nut, as was the abortion clinic guy. The largest white christain group hankering to destroy the government is basically a bunch of people that really like shooting guns and who push literature that may instigate a few crazy people to do terrible things. It simply isn't as widespread and as well organized as muslim extremist terror.

I'm actually pretty positive that Al Queda would love to start recruiting different demographics and nationalities (as they did this time apparently with the English nationals) to do their work, it would really mess with the search paramaters our militaries work with. But as of right now, based on the trend, if you were at a post and you were told that a suicide bomber was going to try and pass through and you had one guess as to who it was, if an old black lady, a 40 year old white guy, and a 25 year old middle eastern guy came walking at you, who are you going to pick as your one stop? I'm not saying it's the best thing in the world (I'd actually prefer we go back to sunny happy year 2000 life) but as most of our security forces are overextended as it is you have to try and find parameters withing which to operate that will yeild the highest possible results. It's not like there are a bunch of paranoid white people sitting around looking at everyone as a terrorist. When I'm at a bar with my Indian buds I'm not sitting there wondering when Ravi is going to try and kill me, I'm wondering when he is going to get sick and how best to ensure that it doesn't happen in my car.

And as for thinking only a black kid could steal my car I think that's a bit unfair. Firstly, I feel safe in very select locations, and I don't trust anyone basically. I don't descriminate on that front. But when you live in a predominantly white neighborhood and you see a young black kid pacing nervously in a back parking lot, it is a bit out of place. If a white guy was pacing nervously in a back parking lot I would also wonder what he was doing. And as I said, I told myself that my initial suspicion of the kid was not nice. It just so happened that in that instance it was a correct judgement.

So yeah it would be nice to live in an ideal world where everyone got along and racial profiling was never done, but we don't. That doesn't make what happend to our wonderful host any better, or any less crappy feeling. It makes me sad to no end that this is the world we live in. Hell, I haven't read the news in half a year, and I was a poly sci major, it just depresses me too much.

[Niraj]

What do you do exactly? I've been trying to figure this out for awhile now.

[A N N A]

Niraj:

I'll quote someone brilliant, to answer your question: "I'm not one of those idiots in desperate need of attention, so I value my privacy." :D

:+:

with all due respect, i think i already share an abundance of myself online. all of my professional and the majority of my personal life are off limits to strangers.

as dear as you comment-leavers might be, that's what 90% of you are-- absolute strangers.

this post does not suffer from the omission of specific details. such omissions protect me and I am glad that people respect and comprehend that.

so, to make a long story longer, why do you want to know?* ;)

:+:

years ago, when i was a pre-teen i consumed dear abby/ann landers voraciously. i still remember the reader who wrote in asking one of the advice-sisters, "so-and-so is always asking me personal and inappropriate questions. it makes me uncomfortable and i want to tell them to mind their own business, but i feel that's a bit rude. what should i do? i don't think i should have to answer, nor do i want to..."

the sage replied, "ask them why they wish to know. answering a question with that question is a pointed yet polite way to say, I'M NOT TELLING, it also shifts the conversation back to the busybody...you are under no obligation to sate another's curiousity..." etc etc.

[Abhi]

That really sucks!
Check out this from Drudge. Apparently D.C. got the same memo:

"NY City Police Commissioner Raymond Kelly Says To Watch For People 'Sweating'..."

I am ordering one of these for you to wear:
http://www.cafepress.com/cp/browse/No-1_Nao-1_Ntk-All_pv-00ps.26763595_N-0_Ntt-consent+search_D-consent+search

[maus]

and WHY wasn't this on sepia mutiny, miss "i have writer's block when it comes to that blog?" you were so paranoid about your last post on the kashmir thing (and by the by- the last line of that post about the passing gas really was awful)

this one is flawless. timely. necessary. you don't have to write original things for each blog you know. the others don't bother. well, maybe abhi...but anyway, if toher mutineers can copy and paste, why can't you? or does it only go one way, like the post before this one, where you start it over there and finish it over here? eh, i'm confusing myself now. good one. that's what i meant to say.

[Saurav]

This indeed sucks hard. I provoked some worse harrassment a few years ago (apparently watching people get arrested and not following every single direction is "obstructing public administration") and had something similar to what happened to you happen to me with immigration officials:

"On a sidenote, Clash of Civilizations almost got me screwed coming through immigration once because the book cover has a picture of a crescent on it. As it turns out, all I got was some excessive questioning. The immigration officer, who I assume is Chinese, asked me, "Why are you repeating all my questions back to me, sir?" (because I'm nervous, a$$hole) and "What's that book, with this symbol on it?" and he drew the yin-yang. Then he gave me a racist spiel about "How this is right, there is a clash of civilizations between India and China."

If you have a therapist (or some other mechanism...maybe it's this blog :), it might help to talk about how you felt about this (esp as your feelings shift) because I know from personal experience it's no good to walk around with it--especially if you're not used to this kind of thing). I'm still mad.

[maisnon]

I was really freaked out about flying this week - simply b/c I am carrying my weight in books. I'm sure it looked suspicious that I had about 60 pounds of books...and not very many clothes.

And then I hated that I prepared to have to explain myself. And then I was glad I at least know the rudiments of criminal procedure.

I'm reminded of what a girl in my Crim Law class said - she stated that she had no problem infringing the civil liberties of other people if it kept her safe. My hand shot up and I locked eyes with the professor. He knew as well as I did that he could call on me, but even if he didn't, I'd have my say. He called on me (smart man.) I ripped her a new one, and I *hope* I was the only person who noticed my voice shaking.

A number of people came up and thanked/congratulated me after class. But overall, it just made me sad - I shouldn't have to explain what's wrong with that concept.

[Bong Breaker]

Sorry to hear that happened Anna. I can relate. I'm not sure your closing statement is how I feel though, and I've been stopped by the police 12 times - four in the last two weeks. They even put those zip-tie handcuff things on me last week. Oh and I've been strip-searched in the south of France the day after 9/11!

I live in London. I was on my way to the British Medical Association building when the no. 30 blew up outside it and my girlfriend works at UBS above Liverpool St. Station, where another bomb went off. I felt almost as though the bombs had been somehow targetted directly at us. Since then I thought to myself, I can't let this affect the way I travel around. Of course it has. Without wanting to sound conceited, I think I've just got used to it now. I'm sure you will too. I don't mind the police questioning me, I have nothing to hide. But what bothers me is, I think, what bothered you. The looks. What you wrote about "do I look like a terrorist?" rang very true.

If I were going to a wedding in a kurta or sherwani, I don’t think I’d want to go by public transport right now. Somebody said to me the other day "Will Hindus and Sikhs start wearing T-shirts saying ‘NOT MUSLIM’?" and I thought to myself, well, why not? I’m only human and selfish, I’m looking out for myself. Friends in the South Asian media here keep telling me I must unite with my Asian brothers and sisters. But I thought to myself, do I have anything in common with a Pakistani family in Yorkshire? I have nothing more in common with them now than before, why should I suddenly declare my solidarity? Well, I don’t know the answer. "Because racists will target you!" Hey, racists will target me whatever I do. I feel really sh*tty my best friend, a Pakistani Muslim, now feels he has to wear England shirts and Union flags. That sucks. But I wondered should I try and distance myself from Muslims? As of today, I haven’t. And I will stand by friends whatever they are. But I haven’t heard a convincing argument as to why I must show a united South Asian front and why I should not vocally proclaim my non-Islamicness. We are, after all, a disparate group of communities.

Last night I was waiting on Liverpool Street station's concourse for ages. I was reading a little textbook, had a bag and I hadn't shaved. Suddenly I thought "what if people think I'm reading the Koran?" The station was literally crawling with police and in the end I got in such a self-induced paranoid tizz that I bought a four pack and sat there drinking beer on my own to demonstrate I can't possibly be Muslim. Which is better, having people think I'm a bomber or an alcoholic?

I'm sure this makes me sound like a moron, but I just thought I'd give you an idea of how I've been feeling - so perhaps you don't feel so victimised next time you travel. You should have nothing to fear...but just to be safe, keep wearing those pleated skirts!

[queenvish]

Can I link to this?

[KAFKA ON THE SHORE]

! Wow, that's insane. And shitty. I live in the UK but no fucking way I'm going anywhere with a big rucksack!

[Anne Stanton]

Oh some people got blown to pieces, their remains are still being nawed on in the bottom of the Tube by rats... but look at ME, it's all ABOUT ME.. I was looked at the wrong way by the police officer.

They honed in on me even though I was showing leg. Shouldn't they really just pick on burqa-wearing women. After all, they are the real threats.

[A N N A]

moron: it's MY BLOG. that means that this is the space where i write honestly about my life. so guess what?

it actually IS all about me. move along, smart ass. you're neither original nor clever.

:+:

i've said it three million times on SM, i guess i'll have to start repeating myself here, too. just b/c i feel ONE emotion, that doesn't prevent me from feeling another simultaneously. revolutionary concept, i know.

:+:

"...do not forsake us who put our hope in thee. grant peace to our world, to our leaders, to our armed forces and to all thy people. for every good and perfect gift is from above, coming from thee, the father of light."

those are the words i prayed at church today. i shouldn't have to reveal or type that, but just in case there are any other retards out there who would have the unbelievable gall to suggest that i'm not respectful of those innocent victims-- fuck off. you're no hero to them by denigrating the intentions of someone you don't know.

[ngm]

Hi Anna, I certainly empathize with you. For years I've been forced to say something intelligent to judging strangers in apology for my sense of clothing style. I've found that, if anything, causing people to rethink their disposition is useful, but is hard to do.

In the larger scheme of things, is it surprising that people are frightened when this is what our media propagates? (And I'm not even questioning the objectivity, or veracity of this article.)

[KAFKA ON THE SHORE]

i linked this entry. hope that's cool.

[vida]

Other than the sickening emotions, the thing that kept repeating in my mind as I read through your entry was, how to differentiate myself from these 'profiles'? And that is definitely not a healthy thought.

[looking]

did anyone ever tell you that your photographs are bordering on pornographic?

[annafan]

Dear Anna,

Would a female suicide bomber show this much leg?

May I suggest that showing even MORE leg might get them to pay attention to something else! :)

[joke, joke...]

seriously though, i'm sorry to hear about your experience. I think the right thing to do is to do what's necessary to put people at ease. If that means talking in a "stronger" American accent [you know what I mean -- more "Noo Yawk"], opening the bag, or wearing a prominent cross or T-shirt, that's not really a big thing. I agree you don't really fit the profile, but the people who are worried are not evil racists. They are just people, like you and me, who would very much prefer not to get blown up on the way to work and who have not studied up much on the phenotypic and religious differences between various individuals of brown coloring. They too have day jobs, cut them some slack. It should also be said that the Pakistanis who blew themselves up in the UK were wearing "street" clothing and not distinguishing themselves in any other way.

One option when faced with their fear is to get angry that they're fearful. I know you didn't do this, but this is what a lot of activists do. In my opinion this is counterproductive, especially when said activists go on to defend or excuse the actions of actual Islamic terrorists [i.e. "chickens came home to roost" type stuff].

Far better, I think to put everyone at ease. Putting their minds at ease can be done in a way that puts a smile on your face and on theirs. As an Indian atheist CS major male who is frequently unshaven, who flies a lot, and who is frequently mistaken for an Arab [and probably a Muslim], I know from experience that it's possible to do this. There are plenty of potential ice breakers. I prefer talking to the nearest guy about the Knicks. Failing that, ripping my shirt open while yelling "ALLAHU AKBAR" always does it.

[Jay]

Hey Anna,

Keep fighting the good fight and ignore the poseurs!

[maisnon]

Re: "It's all about me" - as Anna pointed out - that's exactly what a blog is all about. And guess what, she doesn't owe you shit. If you don't like what you're reading - that's cool, simply move on.

Re: "did anyone ever tell you that your photographs are bordering on pornographic?"

And they still haven't. Funny, that.

[A N N A]

annafan-

no, i totally agree with you and i did cut them some slack. i knew if i was in their position i'd probably give someone like me even dirtier looks, that's the kind of flawed human i am.

this post was really more about the disintegration of my naivete. i was so horrified that people looked at me with suspicion, it made me understandably distressed and depressed. i initially commenced this as a post on sepia mutiny, but as i typed more feverishly, i knew that this was a cathartic act, thus best placed on HERstory.

to repeat: i mindlessly went on the metro with a duffel bag, forgetting that three brown people had done similar before causing death and destruction. i'm not stupid, i'm not selfish, i'm not focusing on me vs the victims, etc. i was just in a hurry for my second day at work, thinking of nothing besides that...and that's why i was blind-sided by reality and my emotional response to it.

i don't blame anyone except the assholes who perpetrated terror. everyone has the right to look at me funny now. i know.

[Saurav]

Anna, I'm in a similar position to you in terms of career position and social justice work (although we have different conceptions of what that means).

I completely agree with you that there are roles that different people play and that not everyone needs to be working at a non-profit organization in order to contribute to what i like to call "the movement." That said, I think it's important to recognize that this isn't just an age thing--there are people, people who are 40 and have families--who are earning a reasonable living (assuming you can get by without jetsetting) and still doing really grassroots community organizing and other work that takes a lot of time and energy that could be financially rewarded in other ways. One of the things I've realized is that part of the problem is to make sure that those people get into the roles and positions that are going to get them paid, rather than doofuses like me that are going to be there for a while, milk the system through salary, and then move on--it's a move away from the looking at social justice work as an activity for "the youth" and instead look at it as an activity for whoever it's appropriate for and as a lifestyle and profession. National Organizers Alliance is a good resource on that.

I only mention this, not because it's something you explicitly denied, but because the way you presented it is in line with the traditional (and imo problematic) way of looking at nonprofit work--something you do when you're young and energetic and idealistic and then move on from to become a lawyer and give some money once in a while. So one of the things that needs to be done is a reform of hte non-profit system in ways that privlege more grassroots work, more longevity, more salary and other better treatment of people that would allow people to stay in what is an emotionally intsense field of work (if you're doing it for real). After all, if people aren't able to be happy doing what they do, then of course they're going to move on--and in the process, a lot of knowledge and skills and history and other things don't get passed on or are lost.

[A N N A]

saurav, i'd happily work at non-profits forever if i could:

1) pay my rent
2) afford solid health insurance
3) pay off the loans

alas, it's only this year that i've been able to work at an NP and do some semblance of those things.

BUT, i have a sweet deal on my sublet, my health insurance is sub-par b/c i haven't saved enough to upgrade and i'm making the minimums on that $65K. that's just too tenuous all around. if my landlord decides to raise my rent $500 to the market value of a condo in my building, i'm done. if i need to go to the dentist or get new glasses, i'm done. and at this rate, i think i'm covering just interest on my debt to GW.

my IRA is anemic and i have no substantial savings. no, i don't have to bartend now in order to buy groceries, but even with a $10k raise from my last non-profit salary in 2002, i'm living paycheck to paycheck.

you're right. the system needs to change. radically. people like us who have a passion for social justice shouldn't leave the causes that we love, just so we can eat and pay for shelter. the turnover at the last nonprofit i worked for in 2002 crippled the org b/c just as you said, the loss of skills and experience was constant, resulting in a leak that bled away institutional knowledge. reinventing the wheel every 18 months is a sure-fire way to suck.

i'm not going to judge whether the work someone is doing is "real", but every NP job i've had (before this year) has been a roller coaster ride for my heart. that's hard enough to bear; when you can't support yourself at the most basic of levels, it's untenable. kindly allow me to make this clear before i get unreasonably flamed for it: i didn't leave to become a lawyer. i have two liberal arts degrees. i "left" because i couldn't financially survive.

frankly, writing posts about power 99 and star and bucwild were/are just as heart-rending as anything i did when i worked at a "real" NP. if it isn't obvious from my words, i feel things very deeply. we all do what we can for the causes we think are right. this is what i can do. i'm not gloating, nor am i making excuses when i state the fact that my blogging about something which pissed me off inspired more people to write letters of complaint/think about their choices wrt advertisers/talk about the issue than when i (in vain) tried to get people to give a shit that abercrombie and fitch abused asian culture to sell t-shirts a few years ago. until the system changes in the ways you wisely outlined, this is all i can do.

[Saurav]

Anna, I'm definitely not questioning your right to make life choices based on your needs; we all exist within an economy and social constraints and all that and god knows i compromise as much, if not more, than anyone. I also of security for which I'm grateful, but should be more grateful.

My point--which in hindsight I wish I had expressed better--was mainly that it isn't just a personal thing, but that there's something wrong with the way we look at non-profits, social justice work, and the role that they play. What you said: "frankly, writing posts about power 99 and star and bucwild were/are just as heart-rending as anything i did when i worked at a 'real' NP." is exactly what I'm talking about. I contribute now in a variety of ways (some paid, some not). Some, if not most, of the best activists I know do their work on the side, while a lot of people who have paid non-profit jobs are not doing much to advance social change or provide services to people, but are just boosting their own individual power or egos or whatever.

But I do reserve the right to comment upon whether i think someone's doing "real" work (paid of unpaid) or not :) I should have used different language--what I mean to say is not about authenticity or the depths to which you can demonstrate your radical chic, but whether you are, upon analysis, really contributing substantially to either helping people avoid suffering now or helping build power to help people eliminate what's causing the suffering to begin with. We have too many barely accountable spokespeople and not enough directly affected activists (to put it in oversimplified terms).

btw, just want to put out there that it's okay to go to law school (which you're not) or anything else if you're doing it for the right reasons and going to do something truly beneficial with it--or because you really and truly need to. As opposed to sitting in DC with 0 genuine accountability mechanisms to the people affected by what you're talking about while claiming to speak for those people.

But enough social change blah blah blah from me-- I don't want to detract from from what's a good post on what racial profiling can do to a person.