Cheeky
I have this pair of jeans (now shorts) that have a hole in the butt, right below the pocket. It stretches nearly across the entire width of the back of the pants (shorts). I had mended them, but it was hard to get the sewing machine in the right position to ensure quality. The patch has come undone, resulting in a nice, but shocking, ventilation system. When the hole originated I was working at a Christian conference center and was sent home to change so that people would not be “stumbled.” It was smaller back then, barely showing any skin. I had forgotten what it was like to be in that ever-present, looming shame and fear of the body. It made me really sad.
I recently made the pants shorts, as mentioned, and was wearing them on the flight home from Portland. The thing is, I had this overwhelming and very real fear that I was going to be stopped by security or, when on the plane, by a flight attendant. I felt like I was carrying a very dangerous weapon. An exposed upper thigh? Come on! I felt so tense and frightened. It was really weird.
I think that is an extremley important metaphor. It sort of makes me want to cry.
Sometimes I escape the trained guilt/shame of my youth, then it sneaks up on me. EVERYWHERE. I hate shame, if i were to identify the force to work to eliminate from the world, it would be shame.
I like to think that maybe it’s like Harry’s connection to Voldemort’s mind. It is at first helpful, goes through spells of being seriously harmful and you wonder if it is going to lead to his death, but the eventual result is that he is able to use it for good. To overcome. I guess that’s how everything is.
Like this brilliant comic from Tao Lin
The green one could be Dumbledore and the blue one could be Harry, or it could be me and you, etc.
I ask why a lot. I wish I did more than ask questions sometimes, like make stuff.
Why? Why don’t I just make it?
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J.K. Rowling really knows a lot, apparently, because there are so many good life lessons in those books. I totally know exactly what you are saying about the shame in the airport. I still have weird shameful moments where I feel like I’m going to get “caught” in some public environment for something that would not have been ok at a certain christian high school.
Comment by Matthew — September 8, 2007 #
I don’t think it’s only about dress code, though. I think it’s about… EVERYTHING. The fucking Universe.
It’s about not getting the point of life, missing the opportunity to see something really important and meaningful, cause you are distracted by your shame. You know?
Comment by Laura — September 8, 2007 #