An open letter to Chicagos punk scene: Look. I was you a few years back. I had the sweet diy show space, was involved in the coolest activist groups, my boyfriend at the time was in super cool punk bands, and I had quite the reputation for (physically) fighting oppressive assholes. Yeah, I was really cool. Sometimes it was totally necessary. Like, dont get me wrong, most of the time I really thought I was making a difference by running my mouth and banning people from playing at my house and other places. My friends enabled that type of behavior too. How could they challenge me? I am queer, my dad is not white, Im fat, and insert any other buzzword/label you want. If you challenged me, you were wrong and automatically labeled as some type of ism I deemed appropriate for the context of the situation. I did a lot of shitty things and pretty much always got away with it. To this day I wish someone would have punched me in the face for the way I was acting because I probably deserved it. As most of you know, Ive drifted away from Chicago punk over the last couple of years. Some of you know why, others dont. Basically, I was given a big ol dose of my own medicine. I was in an activist group and I was accused of being an abuser by a dude I was in a mutually abusive relationship with because he was mad that I broke up with him. Although every single person in this group secretly confided in me that they thought my call out was ridiculous, they all chose to keep their mouths shut and go along with what he was saying because to put it simply, he was valued more than I in that group because of his skills. He felt super powerful after that and is now in prison for 10 years. He has written letters to me from jail apologizing for his actions and admits it was him asserting his power because he was angry and knew he could get away with it. After I got kicked out of that group, I felt an obsession with controlling my environment. I had lost a large part of my community and support. My obsession manifested itself as an eating disorder. I was so sick that my hair was falling out and I was vomiting blood. I barely hung out with people or went to shows because when I did, I was either ridiculed by body positive punks for being too skinny or being complimented on how hot I was by people I had known for years that had never given me the time of day previously. The point of this letter is not about my eating disorder struggle. Its about watching what you say and who you say it to because you have NO idea how that could affect that person. Thats obviously a simple rule to follow, but apparently not. You may honestly think youre doing the world - I mean scene (let us remember the difference) a favor by running around and policing everyones lyrics, t shirts, facebook updates, etc, but sometimes you can take it way too far. For example: I kicked out some dudes teeth in Detroit a couple years back. He had to get them all replaced. That costs a lot of money. Apparently he has children. Not cool. Whining about someones lyrics and banning them from playing shows when youve chosen to never ask them about what they mean when they live in the same city as you. Not cool. Shutting people because they dont understand super specific things about identity politics when theyre new to the scene and would possibly be open to learning about it. Not cool. I honestly dont care about Chicago punk anymore. Trust me, Ive been a part of other scenes and movements since and I have NEVER witnessed anyone as hypocritical or dramatic as some involved with this shit out here. I know this letter wont change the scene any more than your finger pointing baby bullshit will, but I figure its about time I put my two cents in. Have fun perfecting your studded jacket and crying. Ill be out living my life. I hope some of you join me some day. Peace. -Lindsey Rae
Posted on: Wed, 12 Mar 2014 01:06:28 +0000
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