Archive for February, 2014

I was going to write about this Biggest Loser thing (seriously, fuck the Biggest Loser), but we’ve had enough of that I think.

super psyched

Finally, let’s get to the punk rock part of my title line (none too soon,amirite?)!






For some unknown reason this morning, I woke up with the Minor Threat classic “Guilty of Being White” stuck in my head.

In the documentary American Hardcore, Ian Mackaye talks about how he wrote the song as an anti-racist song after attending high school in Washington DC, as it was a black majority school and he felt he was unfairly judged by the color of his skin.  In keeping with person focused ideas, I believe he really did feel victimized.  However, as I was singing the song in the shower (don’t judge) I realized I have a huuuuuge problem with the lyrics to that song.

this guy’s totally into it.

I work in Detroit with a majority black staff and majority black clientele.  I went to school for my master’s in Chicago, where we talked a great deal about systemic racism.  I worked in community mental health in Chicago too, and the amount of poverty south of 14th street is sick.  For those of you too lazy to click the link (I’M LOOKING AT YOU!) systemic racism is less like screaming the n-word at a black person and more like calling some neighborhoods “bad” or “ghetto” and being scared to go there without considering those people that have to (usually) stay there and are probably just as scared.  Because they’re brown and that’s where brown people belong right?


see? everyone’s excited!

So my problem with “Guilty” is it’s total lack of awareness of two things: the systemic racism Minor Threat (a group of young white males) acknowledges, and the lack of understanding how they benefit from these systems that are still in place.




Here are the full song lyrics:

I’m sorry
For something I didn’t do
Lynched somebody
But I don’t know who
You blame me for slavery
A hundred years before I was born


I’m a convict
(guilty)Of a racist crime
(guilty)I’ve only served
(guilty)19 years of my time



See what I mean?  I doubt his classmates blamed him for slavery (but who knows); it seems more likely to me they resented his automatic sense of entitlement (“I shouldn’t be bullied”), his increased access to resources and advancement, the fact he was less likely to go to jail  or prison than his black male counterparts ((.056%) vs (.105%)…the list goes on.  Instead of recognizing his benefits from this system and owning them, he blames his “oppressors” who have found him guilty.

This isn’t an article about how Ian MacKaye is a bad person.  It’s about how invisible our privileges are.

So therapy for eating disorders, and really therapy in general, is all about being gentle and kind to yourself. Often, our mental health hinges on ingrained sense of worthlessness, habits of kicking ourselves when we’re down, and long held patterns of shame.


To move toward recovery, one needs to start putting old behaviors behind, including negative self-talk, self-harming behavior (which, coincidentally, includes binge eating and exercising as a form of punishment ) and basing worth as a person on achievements and how hard one is working to change what is “bad.”
I’ve also been pretty heavily looking at the Intuitive Eating program, which focuses on the idea of trusting your body to know what it wants to eat and how much it needs to eat. One of the examples that’s stuck with me is that instead of saying things like “I really ate like a pig today” or “man, I need to do better tomorrow,” you’d focus on thoughts like “I had many opportunities to honor my hunger today” or “my body really needed rest today.”
Part of recovery is this reframing. But I realized this morning I keep thinking of this kind of thinking and attitude is a sign of weakness.
Now, pushing ourselves is a time tested value of our culture; for many with ED, pushing ourselves looks like a constant barrage of “never good enough.” These thoughts are fueled by fear – fear that if, for whatever reason, we calmed down our self-flagellation, we would be down the path of no return, eating until we burst and never exercising again. This kind of thinking is ridiculously hard to change. Imagine being miserable with yourself all the time, but scared to change because you could worsen exponentially.
So how do we move forward? How to rebuild trust in a body we hate? How to rekindle love for the body we’re in? How to truly believe we can truly stop punishing ourselves, that what we are really is enough? Unfortunately, like everything else, the best teacher is experience, and experience only comes after we take that leap of faith.