owning it, ending it

God, my last post was so unbelievably long—like a serial novel but not in serial. And not really a novel, actually. Okay, never mind.

But I’ll keep this one short: just a quick reiteration of how much I love college students. Terry and I visited Antioch last night on the last (for now) stop on our unofficial two feminists/two generations tour. It was a little different from the usual read-and-sign gig, and that much more fun for it. We were guests in the psychology department’s LGBT concentration’s lecture series (got all that?). Meaning we were there to talk about feminism, activism and social movements more than our literary inspirations.

I was into that because big social ideas are what inspires me to write, and I’d almost always rather talk about ideas than about the writing of ideas. At the same time, I hardly felt qualified to speak as a representative of the younger generation of activists, seeing as how I’m neither young nor an activist, unless you count that form letter about Arizona I signed at church on Sunday. But I did write a book that had a bunch of stuff about feminism (and used clothing and ghosts) in it, so maybe I should follow feminism’s own lessons and just own it. Yeah, I’m an activist! Ask me anything!

The students asked great questions and I felt like I’d be happy to have any one of them as a therapist. A really sweet trans guy in a shark T-shirt showed us his labrys tattoo (it matches Terry’s book cover) and invited us to take a survey about lesbian health for his thesis. A nice way to end (for now) a book tour.

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