Burning Passion, Everlasting Fear and Unapologetically Pride(6) — Healing IS Possible
For a while I thought I had lost my passion for everything. At the same time, I realized that I was spending all my time on the same thing, and then I didn’t know what else I was doing besides social movements and social movement research. It was only through constant conversations with Pasha that I saw again that there were so many precious things about myself. There are people who love me, and people I love dearly. At the same time, my perspective on social movement research began to see a different level.
I used to think that studying social movements was about understanding my own situation, why I was suffering, why we were united, why we were hurt, and how we could go on. When I couldn’t find the answers to these questions, I panicked. But now I see that this is all very difficult in the first place, and that this difficult situation is not unique to Taiwan or Hong Kong, but crosses national boundaries.
Before I came to Poland, I was interested in transnational comparative studies. However, I have always been worried about whether it is always a privilege to talk about transnational comparisons, and whether it would be easy to talk about it in a way that is far from the ground. Now I feel that there is indeed such a risk. But I also feel that when the desire for freedom is not more than the activisms that I participated in, and I see a lot of possibilities and power in us.
It’s still hard. But talking to Pasha about what’s happening in Hong Kong, and how I see it, made me feel like I could suddenly get a little bit more detached to Hong Kong. It still hurts when I talk about it, but I think it’s the first time I’ve faced this experience so honestly. Of course, this is not the first time I have talked about it, and my past discussions and thoughts were not in vain, but sorting it out from the beginning has helped me to see where I really stand and what I have experienced.
Perhaps I have the ability to see the commonalities in different forms of oppression. I can empathize with oppressed people from different backgrounds. This is my gift, but I need to use it carefully. Because powerlessness is very consuming. If I am in a constant state of powerlessness, I will drown in my emotions. But if I can be at peace with myself and continue to feel, continue to connect, even if I can’t provide answers, I can keep asking good questions, I can bring different experiences to different people, and I can let a lot of people know that they are not alone. That’s why I’m doing a series of interviews with queer in authoritarian regimes with Mira from Kazakhstan, who is also planning to do a coursework assignment on gender and the Cold War.
I know I have a unique way of connecting with people. But that’s not a drawback; it’s a way for me to put all my energy into the things I’m most passionate about. It’s just that I also have to know that I can be easily drained from it. I need to find balance, I can’t be consumed by my passion. Passion is part of me, but not all of me.
Social movements show us hope, passion and the possibility of change. But it is not the whole of society, nor is it the whole of our lives. Indeed, some of us have a life story that follows a movement. We chronicle our lives around certain movements, we marked certain activisms that change our lives. Because in those moments, our oppression seems to be answered in some way, we are able to break free, to imagine or even create new social relationships. And in marginalized situations, sometimes movements are not just political, but they’re also a kind of redemptive search for some kind of self-fulfillment, or a desire to be recognized.
Sometimes we do find ourselves in it. But more often we realize that utopia doesn’t exist, and that the utopia we thought we were in, or at least the space we thought we were safe in, is already scarring us. Although social movements still have their power, perhaps as a minority, as oppressed people, or even just as people who still believe in ideals, we still have value outside of the movement. For me, creating safe spaces and connections, not necessarily in the form of movements, is probably the best thing to do at this stage.
I know that my perspective on social movements has always been informed by the feminist imagination. I know that in a highly confrontational and political social movement, it’s hard to maintain such an environment. But I think that’s the importance of being outside of the movement. Writing, connecting, healing, all these things I keep telling myself are important. But after so many late-night conversations, I now realize that these things can be done outside of activism, and don’t necessarily need to be placed in some sort of “post-movement” framework.
I realize now that not all places have the opportunity to create movements, and not everyone can participate in social movements. But by listening and connecting, by spreading ideas, by at least letting the oppressed know that it’s not us who are in the wrong, it makes sense, and Pasha, Lily, and Mira are not people I would traditionally categorize as activists. But we are still creating change, and even when things are getting worse, protecting ourselves and our partners is a chance to preserve that change.
I know I’ve said it before, but I’m still reminded of a quote from one of the interviewees in my study on Taiwanese international students in Hong Kong: “Seeing the situation of Hong Kong people, I feel that I am so lucky to be a Taiwanese. If Taiwan needs me one day, I will fight like the people of Hong Kong”. Now I feel that not only do I wish I could do more for Taiwan, but there are also many things I can do in my present position. When I stood in solidarity with the anti-ELAB protests, I always asked myself what my role as an outsider was.
But when resistance is not limited to the here and now, all connections are important. Of course, the subjectivity of resistance is still very central and should be emphasized. But my experience as a Taiwanese, my experience as an activist on many issues, allows me to offer a different perspective. It can be analytical, but it can also be “I understand you. We may not be able to make changes now, but I support you, and we can get these voices out there”.
When I was in Anti-ELAB movement, I always said I was a documentarian. I still think it’s important, but I think I’m not just a documentarian, I’m a dialoguer, I’m a person who can bring different experiences and needs to different parts of the world.
And I think that in Warsaw, I started to see that it’s not just Taiwan and Hong Kong. Taiwan and Hong Kong shaped the foundation of my understanding of many things, and in the course of my research I found the tools of how to see them. And now as a Taiwanese, a Taiwanese with Hong Kong experience, I’m starting to have conversations. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m going to find, but I feel like there is some kind of huge, unknown future in front of me.
I started writing again and wrote over 5000 words in two days. I feel like after I started writing, everything just seemed to become a path. Even if I still feel naïve and that I’m still doing the same things I did four years ago, my experience over the years has taught me that even if I don’t think I have the answers, and even if I feel scared when I write, it’s all a part of me, and there are always people who understand and who resonate with me. I think maybe I have the ability to see the similarities between oppression and resistance in different contexts, and my sociological background and writing experience can record all this.
It’s been a long time since I’ve written like this. I sit down, open a beer, and type without stopping. I barely even stop to think, it just pours out like a river. I know I’m still struggling, I know we’re all still on this journey, but as soon as I start writing, I know I’m alive and I’m making meaning.
Still, I want to put the lyrics of my favorite songs here, which express much more than what I can write with my words.
There’s a long way to go
And I’m aching to know
If what we’re doing is right
And the feeling plays on my mind
I’m torn between extremes
Of sacrifice and dreams
I met them in between
I’ve sold my soul for what I love
And felt the cold from up above
I’ve learned some things I didn’t know
And watched some lives go up in smoke
With eyes set on me
I tread carefully
When pressure’s wearing me through
Can I count on leaning on you
The choices that we’ve made
Give life to better days
Or lead us to our graves
I’ve sold my soul for what I love
And felt the cold from up above
I’ve learned some things I didn’t know
And watched some lives go up in smoke
Take my hand
And show me what it’s like
Show me what it’s like
It’s all I wanna know
So take my hand
And show me what it’s like
Show me what it’s like
Take My Hand — Goodnight Nurse
Read other Chapters
1. Queer Autistic Friendship
2.Memories like avalanches
3. Autistic Communication
4.Expressing Queer Identity
5. Queer and Nationality
6. Healing IS Possible
