What Blacklist?

It’s not a Blacklist. And you don’t know who is on it.

It’s not a public list. But those who know, know. And those that don’t, don’t even know it exists, because it doesn’t. They might suspect, but they can’t confirm.

There is a Blacklist, but we don’t call it that.  So there isn’t one.  A Blacklist cannot exist in our pretty little community.  We are too mature, too enlightened for a Blacklist.

Hug the woman who doesn’t know. She thinks you are her friend. She reaches out her puny arms to you. Just smile and hug her quickly back. Have pity on her. Have compassion for her blindness. For her self-defeating refusal to join the ones who know. For her sad and unevolved rejection of universal abundance.

Just smile and hug. Make small-talk. Envision a big black B on her forehead as you take a step towards the door. Do not be swayed by her doubts. Remember, she is blocked, even if she has been your friend for years. Let her story fade into the B.

Listen but do not hear as she wonders why she hasn’t seen you in awhile.  She has chosen her own exile.  Listen but do not hear as she tells you her mother is ill. Poor thing. She must have manifested the misfortune. Pat her head and walk away. Don’t look back.

And don’t be tempted. All those who wear the black B are a threat to Us, even if they don’t know who We are. Say hello. Give a quick kiss. But be sure your connection ends there, or else you might reveal your knowledge of the List. Make and maintain appearances. Then leave the room.

Lie if necessary. Just a tiny white one. Small sacrifice to keep the privacy of the hygienic black B.

The B will protect you because you’re not on it. And you’ll do everything to stay off it. Because you know. And they don’t.  Poor things. They should have joined us when they had the chance.

Maintain the Blacklist, and you will be protected.  Betray it and suffer the wrath of your former sisters.  Membership has its rewards.

Yes, that is a threat.  But no one threatened you.  We love you.  We are here to help you, remember?  To empower you.

There is a Blacklist, but we don’t call it that.  So there isn’t one.  A Blacklist cannot exist in our pretty little community.  We are too mature, too enlightened for a Blacklist, so don’t fret.

The Blacklist doesn’t exist. And it musn’t. So it don’t. And you don’t know about it. Until you do. And believe me, you don’t.

(inspired by Derrick Jensen’s “The Man Box”)

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6 thoughts on “What Blacklist?

  1. I feel you. I feel the winds of change. Since we all know the majority of our “friends” lost their money and those that “won” list their integrity, I think most of our “sisters” will be asking their friendships back. Maybe eventually there can be amends and healing.

    • I hope so too. There will be a lot of work to be done to repair damaged friendships, businesses, reputations, and most of all, trust.

      This important work has already begun by those who have understood the necessity of ending the silence and bringing the conversation out into the open. Abusive systems wither under the careful scrutiny of an integral majority.

      May there be more and more people who join in the “daylighting” of this conversation.

  2. My “on the ground” experience of the in-group / out-group dynamics in this small town are pretty intense & my nervous system is on overload. I know many of you can relate….

    My expose blog post “Seeking the Sacred In Women’s Wisdom Circles” back in July was like an indescribable and quite unforeseeable tornado toppling the edifice of my friendships (which I previously thought to be solidly built) like a house of cards.

    I am still recovering from this whirlwind personally, and it has irrevocably changed my social position in this town.

    To be clear: I’m not saying all this change is inherently negative–I was always and am still confident that becoming public about my “position” will prove to be essential and beneficial to my long term conscience, and to my/our community’s long term justice.

    But, the storm has been a drastic one nonetheless, and I am still sifting through rubble, grateful for the valuable pieces that have inevitably survived: I probably will be for a long time.

    I am currently building up my courage within the container of this blog, fortifying myself with witnesses and allies, muses and guides, until I have cobbled together at least some shelter out of the ruins, and recovered some of the treasures from the disaster zone. Composing poetry to remain sane.

    Sometimes the scouring action of great storms is an opportunity to cleanse out false beliefs, false prophets, weak edificies that cannot be relied upon. Indeed! I actively choose to take this view or I wouldn’t bother getting out of bed in the morning.

  3. Dear Nala,

    Oh, snap! I want to hear this poetry in my ears.

    It is painful to hear that reality lived, but I hear it. And I wish my honest arms could reach you, that they were strong enough to hug you across this great distance.

    The invisible, transparent, emblazened, unmistakable B has made it’s mark. But we in the Know know that it stands for Beauty and Boldness and Bullshit-detector. Wear it proudly, until the ones who proclaim its nonexistence and yet enact its power have awoken from the spell.

    Love to you, Beauty of the B,

    Maggie

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