When I was a kid in kindergarten, I endured elocution lessons. The drawl of the new colony considered offensive and lowly. Lacking class and haught. And there it was. Bigotry inherent in language. Today’s new cool, thankfully, is changing that. A dialect can be acceptable, Eh by goom lad?
I have travelers visiting me for tarot from all around the world. Immigrants and refugees, with strong accents that require all my listening to understand. But. And here’s the crossroads. I only speak the language known as English. I can count in five languages, say hello in as many and could also ask for a cafe con leche, when in Spain. The people who have learned English as a second language are amazing, and I am the fool. So, when you write or speak, don’t allow the bigots to correct your dialect. Be loud and proud.
We are only now beginning to free ourselves from an archaic academia, steeped in Latin, the voice of conquerors, rapists and thieves. Bigots. And many disciplines, like biology, botany and medicine, retain their roots in the monasteries from which they escaped, that became universities that sometimes resort to usury and pretense of learning. It’s dead. The fucking empire is dead. The final death-roll of this crocodile is its adherence to grammatical correctness. The bigotry of rapacious privilege exposing its genitals and saying My cock is bigger than your cock.
Next time you hear that subtle inner voice pigeon-holing a person, by their ability to speak this young tongue, as under-educated or not sufficiently literate, go look in the mirror. I done it, once upon a time.
This training is for everyone, of every gender-identity, every ethnicity and every culture. I am liberated by you, and because of you, and you are my teachers. Over the past six years, since moving to Melbourne, you have sat at my table, and spread the word, that I see you. That I hear you and that, because of you I have learned and deepened. I have, through your guidance, dropped the hidden persona of others’ acceptable importance, and have become wholly myself. In all my colors. So, it is to you travelers, healers, poets, strippers, seekers-after-something, the wounded and the law-holders, that I bend the knee. I didn’t know how much I needed your reflection, and through that, that I could be better at what I do, and who I am.
Contact me HERE for first run release.
Thank you for being.