Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
Via Bilerico: How Homosexuality Stopped Being a 'Disease'
We had been jointly planning our
tactics over the past month. I and my compatriots of the Gay Liberation
Front and Gay May Day collective, friends from the Mattachine Society,
and members of the newly formed Gay Activists Alliance were to gather on
this bright morning during the first week of May in 1971, and carpool
up Connecticut Avenue in northwest Washington, DC to the Shoreham Hotel.
Also uniting with us were people from out-of-town who joined us as part
of "Gay May Day" as we attempted to shut down the federal government
for what we considered as an illegal and immoral invasion into Vietnam.
We parked about a block away since we didn't want hotel security and attendees at the annual American Psychiatric Association conference to notice a rather large group of activists sporting T-shirts and placards announcing "Gay Is Good," "Psychiatry Is the Enemy," and "Gay Revolution." Half the men decked themselves in stunning drag wearing elegant wigs and shimmering lamé dresses, glittering fairy dust wafting their painted faces.
A year before, activists demonstrated outside the APA conference held in San Francisco. As a result, conference organizers conceded to permit a panel to lead a discussion workshop at this year's annual conference in DC under the title "Lifestyles of Nonpatient Homosexuals." The panelists included Dr. Franklin Kameny, Director of Mattachine DC; Barbara Gittings, Director of the Philadelphia office of Daughters of Bilitis; and Jack Baker, first "out" U.S. student body president at the University of Minnesota.
In their capacity as official conference panelists, they were granted inside access to all proceedings, including admission to the annual Convocation of Fellows, in which all attendees were to hear U.S. Attorney General Ramsey Clark deliver the keynote address in the hotel's over-the-top Regency Ballroom. Earlier in the week, some of us checked out the hotel's layout. The day before, a comrade placed a wedge in a doorway coming from the Rock Creek Park woods into the hotel, where we gained access.
All along, the panelists were to serve as our Trojan Horses. After the Convocation was called to order, and half-way through Clark's address, our insiders opened the doors and in we poured, chanting, waving, shouting. On stage, we witnessed a stunned Attorney General surrounded by similarly stunned and also upset APA officials, and seated in the front rows we noticed elderly men who wore gold medals around their necks. When they saw us, they stood and began beating us with their medals while shouting "Get out of here. We don't want any more people like you here!" Others yelled: "You're sick, you're sick you faggots, you drag queens!" Other psychiatrists stood up from their seats and attempted to push us physically from the hall. I was able to escape their grasp, and I sat locking arms with a contingent on the floor just beneath the stage.
Then Frank Kameny rushed the stage and grabbed the microphone, his booming voice cracking through the pandemonium even after the technician cut the power. "Psychiatry is the enemy incarnate," he yelled, the anger seemingly oozing from his pores. "You may take this as a declaration of war against you!"
And this was, indeed, our intent: to declare war on the psychiatric profession for the atrocities, the colonization, the "professional" malpractice it had perpetrated over the preceding century in the name of "science," the biological and psychological pathologizing of sexual and gender transgressive people. From the so-called "Eugenics Movement" of the mid-nineteenth century though the twentieth century and beyond, medical and psychological professions have often proposed and addressed, in starkly medical terms, the alleged "deficiencies" and "mental diseases" of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) people.
Read more at http://www.bilerico.com/2015/06/how_homosexuality_stopped_being_a_disease.php#OdSvVVyPJOZj9vLh.99
We parked about a block away since we didn't want hotel security and attendees at the annual American Psychiatric Association conference to notice a rather large group of activists sporting T-shirts and placards announcing "Gay Is Good," "Psychiatry Is the Enemy," and "Gay Revolution." Half the men decked themselves in stunning drag wearing elegant wigs and shimmering lamé dresses, glittering fairy dust wafting their painted faces.
A year before, activists demonstrated outside the APA conference held in San Francisco. As a result, conference organizers conceded to permit a panel to lead a discussion workshop at this year's annual conference in DC under the title "Lifestyles of Nonpatient Homosexuals." The panelists included Dr. Franklin Kameny, Director of Mattachine DC; Barbara Gittings, Director of the Philadelphia office of Daughters of Bilitis; and Jack Baker, first "out" U.S. student body president at the University of Minnesota.
In their capacity as official conference panelists, they were granted inside access to all proceedings, including admission to the annual Convocation of Fellows, in which all attendees were to hear U.S. Attorney General Ramsey Clark deliver the keynote address in the hotel's over-the-top Regency Ballroom. Earlier in the week, some of us checked out the hotel's layout. The day before, a comrade placed a wedge in a doorway coming from the Rock Creek Park woods into the hotel, where we gained access.
All along, the panelists were to serve as our Trojan Horses. After the Convocation was called to order, and half-way through Clark's address, our insiders opened the doors and in we poured, chanting, waving, shouting. On stage, we witnessed a stunned Attorney General surrounded by similarly stunned and also upset APA officials, and seated in the front rows we noticed elderly men who wore gold medals around their necks. When they saw us, they stood and began beating us with their medals while shouting "Get out of here. We don't want any more people like you here!" Others yelled: "You're sick, you're sick you faggots, you drag queens!" Other psychiatrists stood up from their seats and attempted to push us physically from the hall. I was able to escape their grasp, and I sat locking arms with a contingent on the floor just beneath the stage.
Then Frank Kameny rushed the stage and grabbed the microphone, his booming voice cracking through the pandemonium even after the technician cut the power. "Psychiatry is the enemy incarnate," he yelled, the anger seemingly oozing from his pores. "You may take this as a declaration of war against you!"
And this was, indeed, our intent: to declare war on the psychiatric profession for the atrocities, the colonization, the "professional" malpractice it had perpetrated over the preceding century in the name of "science," the biological and psychological pathologizing of sexual and gender transgressive people. From the so-called "Eugenics Movement" of the mid-nineteenth century though the twentieth century and beyond, medical and psychological professions have often proposed and addressed, in starkly medical terms, the alleged "deficiencies" and "mental diseases" of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) people.
Read more at http://www.bilerico.com/2015/06/how_homosexuality_stopped_being_a_disease.php#OdSvVVyPJOZj9vLh.99
Via Subhi Nahas: Help Save LGBTI Refugee Lives
Neil Grungras
campaign leader
'I was sure I’d be raped or killed. I was terrified': My life as a gay Syrian refugee who had to flee Isis
I first escaped to Turkey, but I wasn't even safe there – a childhood friend who had joined Isis threatened to kill me through a mutual friend
By Subhi Nahas
Originally published by the Independent.
Growing up in my small city Idlib, Syria, I always knew I was different. I didn’t know what the difference was or what it was called, but I knew I had a secret to guard. That was a decade ago. Even in my worst nightmare, I didn’t dream that one day my beautiful country would implode. And I couldn’t possibly imagine that one day I would address the UN Security Council on behalf of all refugees including LGBT people like me.
Once my family and community in Idlib found out that I was gay, they confirmed my worst fears. I was “abnormal” and “sick.” Most of them believed – and probably still do – that gay people like me should be hospitalized, imprisoned and even killed. I felt desperately alone.
The internet saved me. I was hungry for information about who I was, and I learned there were others like me who were able to live happily – with careers, travel, and even love. Many were free to tell the truth about who they are.
When I was 15, before I came to terms with my identity, my parents suspected something was “wrong” with me and sent me to a therapist. Breaching rules of confidentiality, he told them I was gay.
From that time, I became a prisoner in my home and my town. My father watched my every move. Authorities of the Syrian government and Jabhat al Nusra, a branch of al-Qaeda, raided cafes and parks where LGBT people secretly gathered. Militants promised the townspeople to cleanse our town of gender nonconforming people. Many people were arrested and tortured. Some were never seen again.
Then I became a target of the militants. In 2012, I was on a bus heading to university. We were stopped. The young people, including me, were taken to a remote house where we were all physically assaulted and harassed. The militants took special notice of me. They called me “sissy,” “faggot,” and other insulting Arabic epithets. I was sure I’d be raped or killed. I was terrified. In the Idlib of 2012, there was no law — only people with guns. Miraculously, they let me go.
The terror followed me home, where my father and I had our last fight. The scar on my chin is a constant reminder of his violent reaction to my being different.
My only hope was to flee. I escaped first to Lebanon and then to Turkey, where I lived for three years and began to advocate for other LGBT people and refugees like myself. I co-founded a group, LGBT Arabi, to bring LGBT refugees and non-refugees together. I wrote a blog about LGBT rights.
Read More>>> www.independent.co.uk/voices/comment/i-was-sure-id-be-raped-or-killed-i-was-terrified-my-life-as-a-gay-syrian-refugee-who-had-to-flee-isis-10484304.html
I first escaped to Turkey, but I wasn't even safe there – a childhood friend who had joined Isis threatened to kill me through a mutual friend
By Subhi Nahas
Originally published by the Independent.
Growing up in my small city Idlib, Syria, I always knew I was different. I didn’t know what the difference was or what it was called, but I knew I had a secret to guard. That was a decade ago. Even in my worst nightmare, I didn’t dream that one day my beautiful country would implode. And I couldn’t possibly imagine that one day I would address the UN Security Council on behalf of all refugees including LGBT people like me.
Once my family and community in Idlib found out that I was gay, they confirmed my worst fears. I was “abnormal” and “sick.” Most of them believed – and probably still do – that gay people like me should be hospitalized, imprisoned and even killed. I felt desperately alone.
The internet saved me. I was hungry for information about who I was, and I learned there were others like me who were able to live happily – with careers, travel, and even love. Many were free to tell the truth about who they are.
When I was 15, before I came to terms with my identity, my parents suspected something was “wrong” with me and sent me to a therapist. Breaching rules of confidentiality, he told them I was gay.
From that time, I became a prisoner in my home and my town. My father watched my every move. Authorities of the Syrian government and Jabhat al Nusra, a branch of al-Qaeda, raided cafes and parks where LGBT people secretly gathered. Militants promised the townspeople to cleanse our town of gender nonconforming people. Many people were arrested and tortured. Some were never seen again.
Then I became a target of the militants. In 2012, I was on a bus heading to university. We were stopped. The young people, including me, were taken to a remote house where we were all physically assaulted and harassed. The militants took special notice of me. They called me “sissy,” “faggot,” and other insulting Arabic epithets. I was sure I’d be raped or killed. I was terrified. In the Idlib of 2012, there was no law — only people with guns. Miraculously, they let me go.
The terror followed me home, where my father and I had our last fight. The scar on my chin is a constant reminder of his violent reaction to my being different.
My only hope was to flee. I escaped first to Lebanon and then to Turkey, where I lived for three years and began to advocate for other LGBT people and refugees like myself. I co-founded a group, LGBT Arabi, to bring LGBT refugees and non-refugees together. I wrote a blog about LGBT rights.
Read More>>> www.independent.co.uk/voices/comment/i-was-sure-id-be-raped-or-killed-i-was-terrified-my-life-as-a-gay-syrian-refugee-who-had-to-flee-isis-10484304.html
Via Sri Prem Baba: Flor do Dia- Flor del Día - Flower of the Day 29/09/2015
“Todas as separações que existem em relação ao mundo exterior são por
conta das separações que existem dentro de nós mesmos. Tem sido muito
difícil criar união fora simplesmente porque tem sido difícil criar
união dentro.”
“Todas las separaciones que existen en relación al mundo exterior son por culpa de las separaciones que existen dentro de nosotros mismos. Ha sido muy difícil crear unión afuera, simplemente porque ha sido difícil crear unión dentro.”
“Todas las separaciones que existen en relación al mundo exterior son por culpa de las separaciones que existen dentro de nosotros mismos. Ha sido muy difícil crear unión afuera, simplemente porque ha sido difícil crear unión dentro.”
“All the separateness we see in the outside world comes from the
separateness that exists inside of us. Creating union externally has
been so incredibly difficult simply because we have not yet been able to
create union within ourselves.”
Today's Daily Dharma: The Path, Simply Put
The Path, Simply Put
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Monday, September 28, 2015
Via WGB: Obama: Religious Freedom No Excuse to Deny Rights to Others
Freedom of religion isn't reason enough to deny any American their
constitutional rights, President Barack Obama said Sunday as he
addressed members of the LGBT community, one of his major sources of
political and financial support.Speaking at a Democratic Party fundraiser, Obama said it's important to recognize that some parts of the country remain uncomfortable with same-sex marriage and that it will take time for them to catch up to the majority of Americans who support such unions.
But while Americans hold dear the constitutional right to practice their religion free from government interference, he said that right can't be used to deny constitutional rights to others. Full story here!
Via Sri Prem Baba: Flor do Dia- Flor del Día - Flower of the Day 28/09/20
“A grande maioria das pessoas escolhe sofrer através do isolamento. Por
isso esse mecanismo de defesa precisa ser melhor compreendido. Você
pode ser uma pessoa absolutamente silenciosa e não estar isolada. O
isolamento é um estado de fechamento interno. São muros que você
constrói a partir de crenças. Sair por ai tentando conversar e agradar o
outro não significa que você está aberto. Enquanto não entra em contato
com aquilo que sustenta esses muros, você segue culpando o outro pelo seu sofrimento e se isolando cada vez mais.”
“La gran mayoría de las personas elige sufrir a través del
aislamiento. Por eso este mecanismo de defensa necesita ser comprendido
mejor. Puedes ser una persona absolutamente silenciosa y no estar
aislada. El aislamiento es un estado de cierre interno. Son muros que
construyes a partir de creencias. Salir por ahí, intentando conversar y
agradar al otro no significa que estás abierto. Mientras no entras en
contacto con aquello que sustenta esos muros, sigues culpando al otro
por tu sufrimiento y aislándote cada vez más.”
“Most people choose isolation as their preferred form of suffering, so this self-defense mechanism really deserves to be better understood. We could be completely silent and yet not be isolated. Isolation happens when we shut down, building walls around us due to our beliefs. Attempting to converse with and please the other doesn’t mean that we are open. Until we are able to get in touch with the beliefs that sustain these walls, we will continue blaming the other for our suffering and isolate ourselves more and more.”
“Most people choose isolation as their preferred form of suffering, so this self-defense mechanism really deserves to be better understood. We could be completely silent and yet not be isolated. Isolation happens when we shut down, building walls around us due to our beliefs. Attempting to converse with and please the other doesn’t mean that we are open. Until we are able to get in touch with the beliefs that sustain these walls, we will continue blaming the other for our suffering and isolate ourselves more and more.”
Today's Daily Dharma: Shining the Light
Shining the Light
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Sunday, September 27, 2015
Via LionsRoar: Shamatha Meditation: Training the Mind
“The process of undoing bewilderment is based on stabilizing and strengthening our mind,” says Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche. “Shamatha meditation is how we do that.”
We sometimes forget how the Buddhist teachings came into being. We forget why the Buddha left his father’s palace. Dissatisfied with maintaining an illusion, he wanted to understand his life—and life itself.Just like the Buddha, most of us would like to discover some basic truth about our life. But are we really capable of knowing what’s going on? This is a question that relates to the most profound truth of the Buddhist teachings. The Buddha’s answer is, “Yes, ultimately we are. But we need to go on a journey of meditation to find out, because essentially we are in a state of bewilderment.” Why are we bewildered? Because we don’t understand how our mind works.
The process of undoing bewilderment is based on cultivating the ability to become familiar with, stabilize, and strengthen our mind. Being aware and observant of what’s happening in our mind gives us an opportunity to see a more profound level of truth all the time. In the practice of meditation, we learn to zoom back and get a bigger perspective, rather than always thinking so small.
The Buddha understood that if we want to go on any kind of journey—not just a spiritual one but also a secular one, such as studying or doing business—we need a mind that is workable. We need a mind that we can rely on. That’s the notion of training the mind, of making the mind workable so it can do whatever it needs to do.
Shamatha, or mindfulness, meditation is how we make this mind more stable, more useful. From this point of view, shamatha is not purely a Buddhist practice; it’s a practice that anyone can do. It doesn’t tie in with a particular spiritual tradition. If we want to undo bewilderment, we’re going to have to be responsible for learning what our own mind is and how it works, no matter what beliefs we hold.
The word shamatha in Sanskrit (Tib.: shi-ne) means “peacefully abiding.” Peacefully abiding describes the mind as it naturally is. The word “peace” tells the whole story. The human mind is by nature joyous, calm and very clear. In shamatha meditation we aren’t creating a peaceful state—we’re letting our mind be as it is to begin with. This doesn’t mean that we’re peacefully ignoring things. It means that the mind is able to be with itself without constantly leaving.
In meditation we learn how to calmly abide: we learn how to let ourselves just be here peacefully. If we can remember what the word “shamatha” means, we can always use it as a reference point in our practice. We can say, “What is this meditation that I’m doing? It is shamatha—calmly, peacefully abiding.”
At the same time we begin to see that our mind isn’t always abiding calmly or peacefully. Perhaps it’s abiding irritatingly, angrily, jealously. Seeing all of this is how we begin to untangle our bewilderment.
Meditation is a very personal practice. Just like the Buddha, we can approach it by way of valid cognition: “What is truly valid? What is the truth of my experience?” We begin to realize what we don’t know, and we become curious.
In doing so we leapfrog from question to answer, with each new answer leading to a new question. And if we persist we begin to experience another truth that the Buddha also discovered: in every situation there is the continuum of the truth. Each answer is followed naturally by the next question.
It’s seamless.
With this kind of practice and inquisitiveness, the Buddha learned to look at the landscape of life in a clear, unbiased way. When he began to teach, he was just reporting his observations: “This is what I see. This is the truth about how things are.” He wasn’t presenting any particular viewpoint. He wasn’t preaching dogma; he was pointing out reality. We forget this. For example, most people would say that one of the key teachings in Buddhism is karma. But the Buddha did not create karma; the Buddha just saw it and acknowledged it. Saying that karma is a Buddhist belief is like saying that Buddhists believe water is wet. And if you’re a Buddhist, you must also believe that fire is hot!
In meditation, what we’re doing is looking at our experience and at the world intelligently. The Buddha said that this is how we learn to look at any situation and understand its truth, its true message, its reality. This is what a Buddha does—and we are all capable of being Buddhas, whether or not we are Buddhists. We all have the ability to realize our naturally peaceful minds where there is no confusion. We can use the natural clarity of our mind to focus on anything we want. But first we have to tame our minds through shamatha meditation.
Perhaps we associate meditation with spirituality because when we experience a moment of peacefully abiding, it seems so far-out. Our mind is no longer drifting, thinking about a million things. The sun comes up or a beautiful breeze comes along—and all of a sudden we feel the breeze and we are completely in tune. We think, “That’s a very spiritual experience! It’s a religious experience! At least worth a poem, or a letter home.” Yet all that’s happening is that for a moment we are in tune with our mind. Our mind is present and harmonious. Before, we were so busy and bewildered that we didn’t even notice the breeze. Our mind couldn’t even stay put long enough to watch the sun to come up, which takes two-and-a-half minutes. Now we can keep it in one place long enough to acknowledge and appreciate our surroundings. Now we are really here. In fact, this is ordinary. We can bring the mind under our own power. We can train it to be useful and workable.
This is the not just the point of being Buddhist, it’s the point of being human.
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