Wanderlust
Last night I saw The Motorcycle Diaries -- While the subject matter was interesting (didn't know that much about Ernesto Guevara before he became the celebrity Che Guevara), and the cinematography gorgeous, the movie's overall message has been reiterated ad nauseum: that young, middle and upper-middle class people should take travels across their continent to find out about its lands and peoples, and to have their bourgeois consciousnesses raised.
But what about those of us who are among the "downtrodden"...who are the workers or the sons and daughters of workers? Do these kinds of journeys have meaning and significance for us too? Or are we supposed to get jobs, keep our noses to the grindstones they are born to, have our babies, and forget all about seeing the world around us and knowing more? And what, then is "consciousness raising" in this context? Is it a necessity or a priviledge?
When I was in my 30's I took a cross-country road trip. I learned alot about the Middle of the United States, alot about the thinking of the people and the "lay of the land." It was a great adventure, and I still feel I understand more than alot of folks why George W. won the election. But I didn't necessarily have my liberal cousciouness raised any higher than it already was.
Even after seeing the continent, there's still the politically incorrect problem of social class. Being aware of one's social class and lack of social status doesn't leave much room for the Guevara model of consciousness raising. So, where do I go if I want to know more outside of my own social status?
I tried the demi-monde of sexuality, but it didn't get me as far as I would have liked. Some say that it was my "lack of commitment" to an "alternative lifestyle"...but I don't particularly believe in making sex the basis of a way of life. And, for women, there is a degree of performance involved in maintaining a sexual "lifestyle" that I am unable to maintain. I know performance well, but performance, to me, impedes true intimacy. True intimacy has far more value to me than wearing a 500 dollar corset and knowing the latest exotic torture technique.
So, I am left thinking that, perhaps, I need another journey...and that I might need to take to the road again. But do it differently this time, with a different purpose. Perhaps I no longer need to see the barber shop in Baton Rouge, the quaint Comfort Inn somewhere near St. Louis, or the intersection of Florence and Normandy in the heart of gangsta L.A. I'll be 44 next year--no longer Prime but Even; not young but not really old. Now, between today and the end of the year, I must find a significant modus opporandi other than vanity or consciousness raising to make such a trek worth my time, effort and money.
we'll see....
But what about those of us who are among the "downtrodden"...who are the workers or the sons and daughters of workers? Do these kinds of journeys have meaning and significance for us too? Or are we supposed to get jobs, keep our noses to the grindstones they are born to, have our babies, and forget all about seeing the world around us and knowing more? And what, then is "consciousness raising" in this context? Is it a necessity or a priviledge?
When I was in my 30's I took a cross-country road trip. I learned alot about the Middle of the United States, alot about the thinking of the people and the "lay of the land." It was a great adventure, and I still feel I understand more than alot of folks why George W. won the election. But I didn't necessarily have my liberal cousciouness raised any higher than it already was.
Even after seeing the continent, there's still the politically incorrect problem of social class. Being aware of one's social class and lack of social status doesn't leave much room for the Guevara model of consciousness raising. So, where do I go if I want to know more outside of my own social status?
I tried the demi-monde of sexuality, but it didn't get me as far as I would have liked. Some say that it was my "lack of commitment" to an "alternative lifestyle"...but I don't particularly believe in making sex the basis of a way of life. And, for women, there is a degree of performance involved in maintaining a sexual "lifestyle" that I am unable to maintain. I know performance well, but performance, to me, impedes true intimacy. True intimacy has far more value to me than wearing a 500 dollar corset and knowing the latest exotic torture technique.
So, I am left thinking that, perhaps, I need another journey...and that I might need to take to the road again. But do it differently this time, with a different purpose. Perhaps I no longer need to see the barber shop in Baton Rouge, the quaint Comfort Inn somewhere near St. Louis, or the intersection of Florence and Normandy in the heart of gangsta L.A. I'll be 44 next year--no longer Prime but Even; not young but not really old. Now, between today and the end of the year, I must find a significant modus opporandi other than vanity or consciousness raising to make such a trek worth my time, effort and money.
we'll see....
posted by Tish Grier at 10:50 PM
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