when I let go

I seek rest while my words 
continue to work like 
beautiful outlaws
          for although I am meant to go
          I know no one has died 
          of being tired 
look--objectification in the mirror
is closer than it appears

and yet I find
          I've started to imagine myself
          as someone with holes
          in my hands 

___________________

Pic: L and I made a trip to our Daffodil Hill and it seems like the daffs are a bit early this year? (When I searched "daffodil hill, all of my other posts were from the last week of April.)

"if your voice held no power they would not be trying to censor it"

I hurried through my morning chores so L and I could head to the hands-off protest around 11.

I haven't been singing with the women's choir I got into two years ago regularly, but today, I stood on the steps of the capitol with Sistrum and sang call-and-response songs to start up the crowd. There were some fiery speakers. I particularly liked that Rep. Dylan Wegela shouted out the DSA and suggested that anyone not representing the people (no matter what their political affiliation) should be voted out. 

And what a great turnout for the "hands off" protests all across the U.S. today. On social media, I'm seeing videos of rallies that are miles long and and thousands of people strong.

I'm also hearing that while the protests were shown on the tv in other countries, mainstream media in the US hasn't been covering it. (I don't have cable and don't know for sure.)

I'd heard of the #SitYourBlackAssDown signal from Black leaders ahead of today as a way of protecting Black people from police violence as well as a "your turn" gesture to the rest of the population. And post-protest, Black leaders have correctly pointed out 1) the absence of black people at the protests has meant absence of police in helmets and anarchists inciting violence 2) how in the long laundry list of all matters that need protection from this administration, Black Lives are seldom mentioned although Trump's interactions are always adversarial and his initiatives always antagonistic towards Black people. I cannot unsee that now--posters at the protest supported everyone from immigrants and trans people to veterans and teachers, but I did not see any posters about racial injustice. We need to do better.

Still and all, it felt good to be at the rally today, and made me feel like I was actively engaging with the democratic process. And it was great to be there with comrades like L and RS, AH, SD, and so many others. Standing on the steps of the capitol and seeing the thousands of people amassed there, I, along with many of the singers around me, teared up. It was powerful and humbling.

Pic: A portion of the crowd at the protest today. My eyes kept going to the "if your voice held no power they would not be trying to censor it" sign.

grateful

Grateful no one was hurt when Nu's school was hit by lightning. Some computers sparked, the fire alarms went off, and everyone had to go stand outside in the pouring rain. (And Nu got a good story out of it.)

Grateful for all the hard work my students do. Yesterday, five of them presented their research papers and posters at Honors Day. (And my academic advisee won the graduating senior trophy!)

Grateful for academic freedom (so far). I'm on a few lowkey watchlists, but haven't been censored or censured (yet). The talk I gave was critical of the administration and... I shared the panel with colleagues who were similarly critical. (However, colleagues have told me I should scrub my social media when I travel abroad.)

Grateful for my Boss Day today--we got takeout Thai food for dinner. And lunch tomorrow. (I guess this effectively ends my month of claiming birthday privilege.)

Pic: Grateful for the splash of reds and pink from the very twiggy geraniums I got for free from a local nursery five years ago. (It was the end of the outdoor season and they were going to compost them). 

things I should remember

 ...L's birthday! I ordered her gift ahead of time and everything, and still forgot on the day. She's usually in Oregon at this time of the year, but that's no excuse... I feel so bad and I'm groveling hard. 

...That not everyone knows who Scout is. So when I was telling people I just met (a student's mom, a friend of a friend) about how I can't go to UU anymore because sitting in silence makes me think of Scout and then I start crying, they thought Scout was... my husband!  (Also, the topic came up organically and I was lowkey laughing at myself, I swear--I'm not buttonholing random folk to trauma dump on them.)

...The universities that are doing what they need to do. Tufts is declaring support for their detained student, Georgetown University is doubling down on their DEI citing their Jesuit mission. 

...Yes, it's terrifying that three Yale professors who study authoritarianism, including Timothy Snyder whose On Tyranny has been so instructive, have decamped for Canada because of the current political climate in the U.S.

...It's important to remember there are more academics right here and that it's time to get serious about action and solidarity. As Siva Vaidyanathan reminds us in this article in The New Republic. "Columbia University did not fail academia or the country; only its temporary leaders did. The strength of the university remains committed to resisting and doing good work for society. More than 100 faculty members and students have been protesting the university’s decision to fold, each risking admonishment or worse from the administration. Many have been writing publicly against their bosses. That is courage. That is solidarity. It’s a 90-minute train ride from New Haven to Manhattan. One would have hoped Yale professors upset with Columbia would join their colleagues on the streets of Morningside Heights rather than drive up the Queen Elizabeth Way to Toronto." 

Well said. 

Pic: Blue Heron on the banks by the rapids of The Red Cedar. 

calls and rings and tight squeezes

It's At's Boss Day. And as a lovely surprise present to me, she called to say she was coming over for a visit! (At has recently started working with UNTF on the MSU campus and happened to be nearby today.) I can't stay for dinner, she warned, but I warmed up some chocolate chip muffins and I was making a lox sandwich for Nu, so At had one too and then both Nu and At had another, and some cheese straws while I was making the second sandwich, so that, basically, became their dinner. 

At and I had gone thrifting a couple of weeks back and after we found and paid for some amazing things (a blue suede jumpsuit, a floral velvet dress) At bought some rings that were kind of ugly. So I thought I'd let At choose from some of my decidedly nicer rings as a treat today.

Nu came upstairs with us too. Not because Nu wanted any rings, but just to assure themselves that if they wanted any rings, I would give them some too. It makes me chuckle to think how in some ways, they're still the jealous little Baby Nu who would grab my face to turn it towards themselves and tell me sternly that I was "not allowed to look at other kids." 

Pic: This is a jumble, but it was an unexpected joy today to have my kids--Max and Huck are in there too--all crowded into my closet, being raucous, silly, and jokey. At was the only one with a phone in there and took this photo. It was a tight squeeze in there for so many, and there were many tight squeezy hugs before At headed back.

if you are my friend

let's keep going, let's get to the grandeur
let's come back, let's touch absences 
to one another

our next hours wait patiently as the present

life can be a cold war sometimes

its firings accidental 

our lives recognizable as burning pages
opening in flame before curling
sullenly into ash

let us finally acknowledge our condition 

know we are holding our breath-- 

to avoid inhaling smoke

____________

Pic: The Red Cedar in Spring (yay) thaw. Sprigs of forsythia (yay, Spring) in the corner of the frame.

nice/surprise

 It's April 1st tomorrow and who knows what the day will bring--here are a few things that took me by surprise on this last day of March.

I woke up from a dream in which I marveled how in a crowd of strangers we unhesitatingly call ourselves "we." It's true, isn't it? There's something beautiful and magic about that.

I was on a walk and 30 mins from home when a neighbor called to say she'd found Max wandering around her yard and had put him in her screen porch. Obviously, I panicked and called Nu to go over and get Max. Nu went downstairs and then called to tell me Max and Huck were downstairs cuddling on the sofa. Ha. The other puppy was reunited with their family soon after.

For the first time ever, a book I put on hold at the library (Claire Lombardo's The Most Fun We've Ever Had) came in before I caved and got it myself.

Yesterday, while sheltering from the tornado, I realized that Nu and Big A had ordered an arcade Ms. Pac-Man game for the basement. I thought we were in our frugal era! I'm mad. Also that thing is going to be 5-ft tall when it's put together.

Pic: I commented to Suzanne that I planned to make sushi cups from an insta reel I'd seen. I did! I did not expect them to be as as easy as they looked or come out so well (esp. as I ad lib a fair amount). They look a bit color deficient to me as I want all five colors at every meal, but a blueberry-mango-raspberry compote completed the gap at dinner. 

Trans Day of Visibility Rally

An up and down kind of day--I guess that's the way it is when your opportunities for community and solidarity are hemmed in by the big events and policies beyond your control that makes them necessary.

Off to the Trans Day of Visibility Rally at the Capitol today with L and Nu. There were such great signs at the rally today and people were happy to be photographed with with them when I asked (I'm documenting for L's newsletter). But one parent said that their kid was nervous about being photographed, and while I completely understand, it made me quite sad.

Today's rally was designed to be celebratory and joyful, which is why I invited Nu... but I think it still felt a bit overwhelming and they needed some time over the evening to go off by themselves to decompress. They were telling me later how they had such great hopes for the country in 2020, but feel defeated now. It's a bit depressing outright miserable to hear a 17-year-old think and talk like that. At got there just as we three were leaving the capitol and met up with us later at the house for dinner. 

I'd originally planned to have a great, big gathering at our house, like we used to after the Women's Marches.  But I scaled things back as I didn't know if my scratched eye would be healed (It's 90% healed, BTW!). We ended up with a tableful of guests and just after we said goodbye to the second carful, the emergency sirens began going off for tornadoes+thunderstorms. I went out again to call our guests back to shelter in the basement (as we were about to) but only got taillights. I was glad to get the texts about where people were sheltering a few minutes later. 

Pic: I've never seen "Cistem" before, and I love it. 

don't let the one with the coconuts tell the story

Three traders set out, board the boat,
eager and dreaming of success

each with a sack of their wares
upright in the restless breeze
by their feet

it is a completely ordinary journey

their chat common, dealing 

in bargains and markets... 

until the storm bursts

until the boat floods 

Uppulu

Aiiyo! I've lost everything

weeps the trader whose sack was full of salt...

as all the salt slips away in rivulets 

of milky wetness beneath their feet

and the sack empties into nothing

Poppulu

Aiiyo! I've lost everything

weeps the trader whose sack was full of lentils...

though really, some lentils are soaked through

puffy as flowers ready for the pot this evening

but the rest may survive to sell after an airing

Koppulu 

Aiiyo! I've lost everything

weeps the trader whose sack was full of coconuts...

though the coconuts look fresh as children just bathed 

What? Say the others. No, you haven't lost anything!

Your coconuts look like they got a free wash. Shut up.

____________________
Note: From a story my ayah told me in Telugu to illustrate how the well-to-do love to complain about their misfortune even when it doesn't really compare or isn't really a misfortune. (I wonder now if there was something that prompted it--like if she'd had some argument with my parents who would have seemed well-to-do to her.) I came up with the retort to the coconut trader and the subheadings (salt, lentils, coconuts in Telugu) because they so neatly nearly rhyme. And I gender neutralized the characters without losing the plot.
______________________
Pic: The beautiful spring view from RS's window at book club today. There was more resistance talk and organizing than book discussion, which was ok with me. Especially since I'd read You Think It, I'll Say It literally years ago and forgotten many of its finer details.

proud teacher

I've been skulking around campus like an obnoxious person of mystery in sunglasses because I scratched my cornea two days ago (while helping myself to a tissue!!). And because it hurts, I've been heading home early and missed the faculty bake-off yesterday and the reception to celebrate LV's tenure today... Boo. 

But I love this part of the semester because students are working on their research projects and I love seeing how fired up they're getting and all the ideas and connections that are taking off. Who knows where that will go. A paper on Baldwin's Sonny's Blues from last year's critical theory class just won first place in Sigma Tau Delta's (the English honorary society's) international convention that concluded in Pittsburgh last week and the society's journal editor asked the student if they could publish it! 

Pic: At the WGS Symposium with one of my student's projects about rehabilitating body dysmorphia in dancers. Their point is that as dancers they always stare at themselves critically in the studio mirror so they wanted to use the mirror as a canvas to enable dancers to write empowering complimentary words for themselves and others.

And on compliments: A couple of weeks ago, when I gave the talk about the Trump administration's rhetoric, a student told me their friend who'd come to the talk with them said I was pretty and had terrific hair--I got so self-conscious, that instead of saying thank you and moving on, I blathered on about but did they like my talk. The next day, Lisa said something nice about my hair as well, and that weekend I reacted awkwardly when something similar happened. L's advice: "A simple thank you will suffice."

like an open window

today I go on into

this leftover world 
with its great gifts 
of unfastened earth
and lightened tasks 

                                walking altogether
                                talking to myself 
                                and my gods--as if
                                anyone else would
                                even be listening--

waiting for beauty
opening like a fire 

connection a flash

the moments of 

understanding like

                                the peace that passes 

                                in the long silent times

                                of waiting as my heart

                                circles red the sounds 

                                of recovery and rises 

________________________________

Pic: This love. I get to handle this level of mopey, smitten affection for hours every day. Mostly from Max. Huck (further down) is a bit more sophisticated about it. 

"keep fighting the good fight"

Today, I finally got to teach the class I was supposed to teach in prison last October. I was a bit concerned about building rapport with a bunch of adults I'd never met before within the space of a class period, but it went great.

Things that stuck with me:

• In pre-class training, the liaison said that if anyone held the door open for me, I should wave them through first--I shouldn't let anyone walk behind me. (And then they assigned me a Personal Protection Device with an emergency button.)
• But apart from some people in the hallway who were gawking at the classroom, everyone was welcoming and respectful.
• When I mused out loud that the classroom didn't have a clock (and as no smart phones are allowed in the building, I didn't have mine), one of the students gave me his watch to use.
• How eager my students were to laugh at my silly jokes. My kids could stand to take some lessons on how they did NOT roll their eyes. Ha.
• But seriously, 100% of the class wanted to be there, had done their homework, and were active participants.
• How dependent they were on forces completely out of their control--whether the program would continue or not, whether they'd receive funding or not, if people would find the time and inclination to come visit/teach them or not.
• What they said about freedom, the way rehabilitations had been rolled back, how when you grow up hearing gunshots every day, you don't even think to duck. 
• How in the space of two hours, I was already assigning place values to the students as the philosopher, the historian, the memoirist, the media consultant and so on.
• The new things I learned in these texts I've read a zillion times--from my reading of course--but more importantly from the ways other people read, shared, and built on in community. I love this part of teaching so much.
• How they must have picked up on the small coded things I said (there was an official observer in class) about the carceral system, restorative justice, needing a Malcolm in order to have the government negotiate with a Martin, etc. When I answered their question about why I was there, I got a deep "I understand" from the person who asked it. And at the end of the class when we we were taking the desks from the circle and putting them back into the mandated and regimented rows (metaphor much?) three students shook my hand and told me to "keep fighting the good fight."

I will. 

Lots of moving parts to the prison education program currently, but I want to keep being involved. Surprisingly Big A, who usually supports everything I want to do, was a bit taken aback when I mentioned taking this on as an extra class and wondered if I might need to pace myself. 

(Also, I don't like shaking hands. If I resort to my heritage and start offering namastes instead--would that be rude?)

Pic: Spring is really coming! A sunshiny-bright patch of crocuses on the MSU campus.

family worries

Around my sister's birthday, she seemed to think her job was in jeopardy, and it turns out she was right. She spoke to H.R. yesterday and will be leaving the company at the end of the month (She is a Managing Director at Accenture). This will mean some upheaval for all of us since our parents are currently on her health insurance, but we'll have to figure it out. She's been looking for a lateral move for a couple of months, but feels her age is working against her. I'm very worried about all of this.

And I have a tiny worry about Nu. It feels silly to say it out loud, given the state of the world. But Nu  has worn the same seven shirts (washing them like clockwork every week) and Converses for at least three years now--everything is faded and falling apart. It's very environmentally responsible and it's waaaay better than being trendy just to add to the world's trash. But for some reason it makes me sad that my child is limiting themselves this way. When I've brought it up, Nu will rightly point out that they consume a lot of baked goods, CDs, books, and skincare products so they're not exactly an ascetic. 

Pic: Huck and Max went to the groomer and came back with spring-themed bandannas that say: "Finally Spring!" And it cheers me up just to look at it. Nu's disdain for the gender-themed blue and pink was also entertaining.

here's to giant joys

I have a lovely artist friend whom I love a lot. They have been through some health stuff lately and I know they're worried about how things are going in the world, so I messaged them this morning to see if there was some small thing I could do that would be helpful. (I got the idea from this Cup of Jo post.)

But the universe gives us unlooked for gifts sometimes. They told me they'd done something to pull themselves out of doomscrolling and thought it would make me smile... when they told me, it did... I've been smiling all day!

What they did was they'd walked out of their house carrying a sign "Embrace Joy" while wearing A T-REX COSTUME! By the time their walk ended, other neighbors, walkers, and drivers had joined them along the way. 

What a fitting antidote to a regime that thrives on fear and anger!

I got their permission to share, but they asked not to be named yet as they want to do a few more "Joyful Activism" actions and think neighbors are more likely to embrace a mystery. 

Pic: T-Rex says Embrace Joy!

I was there until I wasn't

Pic: At the "Empty-Chair Townhall" with Rep. Tom Barrett. The Rep. wasn't there (as usual), but nearly 500 of his pissed-off constituents were. The organizers gave people red and green flags to wave to signify agreement / disagreement with the statements being made on the dais. 

Many friends were going to be there and I saw RS, AH, SD, etc. I went with L and CD; L drove. But the thing ran long, and I got a bit antsy about spending a second hour indoors in an outrage echo-chamber... so I walked home. Still debating if that was an ok thing to do. But I have deadlines! I had to make dinner! I was missing weekend time with the fam!

I heard of a lovely rally in Detroit where Michiganders--and and across the river Canadians--protested the awfulness that's overtaking us. 

that it's only a doorway, that I'm only a door

So I go bravely before memory
pet my parents so gently
and secretly check 

that they breathe

the day begins or it does not
I can no longer joyride

on his shoulders or
straddle her hip

I fly them in on my thoughts
my rictus of yearning 

like a formal exit 

finding a soul

to write them everywhere 

like graffiti, follow

them everywhere 

like a ghost

______________

Note: There was a period in childhood where I was terrified my parents would die in their sleep. (They were perfectly healthy; everyone's parents in books were always dying though.) I would usually check their breath from the doorway of their bedroom. But my mom says she's woken up to me standing by her bed. (I might have died if I woke up to find someone staring down at me.)

____________________

Pic: Nu and I loved this puzzle we found at the bookstore, and we loved that someone had already put all the pieces together!

Oh, and Happy World Poetry Day!

shashay all day

One of the big reasons Nu wanted to come with me to work was because there was a drag show in town. 

One of the cute things that happened when we went to Admitted-Students' Day last week, was that we bumped into Nu's kindergarten bestie KM. Nu and KM might share a floor as college first-years! Anyway, Nu and KM made plans to hang out at the drag show this evening, and I even got to take them to the bookstore for soup and a sandwich before the show.

Nu liked being in class this morning where one of the things we talked about was why drag freaks powerful people out so much. (Ans. Because it transgresses what society tells us is possible. If we start imagining other possibilities, where will we stop? What if we imagine our way to better healthcare or out of tyranny?)

Anyway, the show was brilliant. And the student organization that organized the show and generously invited us was also absolutely brilliant. The queens are an ensemble out of Detroit, but the DJ is a (Fulbright short-listed) student and it was fun to see them behind a computer as I would in class, just doing very different stuff. The students seemed to have thought of EVERYTHING--on our table were sparkly beads, fun mocktails with umbrellas and crazy straws, zany club glasses, and EVEN cash for us to give to the dancers!

At the end of the night, one of the queens--Jewel Jubilee--said how it was a tough time to be visibly queer in this country, but that as she looked across the young faces in the room she felt strong and that by standing up for each other, we'll all make it through. That's the only time I cried yesterday.

Pic: Two shots of brilliance. 

from A(ssiduous) to Z(en)

Just a few busy weeks to the end of the semester... Research meetings, a workshopping forum, a town hall, and a standing committee meeting crowded this non teaching day. Then I went home for dinner, and hosted our Women's History Month keynote speaker online. There were two Zoom mishaps and I dropped my laptop on my face and now have a swollen lip (what a klutz!!).

After the talk, I skipped off to trivia night where Big A, EM, SD, AH, and DV were doing great without me. The only question I could have helped them get was about Claudette Colvin. We ended up placing third in a tie-breaker.

Nu's coming to my classes with me tomorrow. Talk about observation anxiety... I better get to sleep.

Pic: Ooops! I didn't take any pictures today, but this is yesterday's sunrise just as I got to work. I took it from the top of the stairs to the theater building. All golden and zen.

trash turtles all the way down

I was worried about a dear friend who'd had open heart surgery last week. It made me feel a little better when I got to see their dear face while I dropped off some medication I'd picked up (they can't be alone, so I could either stay with them while their partner picked up the meds or pick up the meds while their partner stayed with them). 

I hadn't heard a peep out of my mom or sis for a whole day. So when the phone rang around 2 am, just as I was putting the puppies and the house to bed, I freaked the fuck out because I thought something was wrong with either my friend or my mom and dad. But no, it was just my mom calling to chat. I think she was a bit thrown off by DST too? Anyway. 

After that, I kept trying to read myself to sleep. Big A was at work, and then he texted to say he'd been attacked by a patient. That was it for sleep last night. I was so sad and worried for him and made him send me pictures and cried over all the scratches and bruises I could see.

And I got to hear the whole story today... I am sad for the patient suffering a psychotic episode in prison and then again in the hospital. I am sad for the security guard who gets paid minimum pay and is expected to put his life on the line--he got attacked first and Big A was trying to help him him when he got attacked too. There are no villains here. It's just awfulness all the way down. I'm just thankful there were no guns involved.
_______________________________
Pic: This made me laugh when I went thrifting this weekend because I needed new books for our Little Free Library (I got some awesome ones). I didn't get these books. They both have the same title--One Bite at a Time--it's just that they couldn't be more different in content: one is a book of recipes for cancer survivors and their caregivers and the other a collection of horror short stories!

round and round we go

Happy St. Patrick's Day! The U.S. Military under the new Defense Secretary has banned cultural awareness celebrations like Black History and Hispanic Heritage, but celebrated St. Patrick's Day today. Oh what could the difference be? I wonder if I can spot it?! 

Seriously though, I'll not begrudge any celebrations of the Irish, who are consistently on the right side of postcolonial and decolonial history. Including today, where there were huge marches for Gaza everywhere in Ireland and their Prime Minister said that he would honor the ICC's arrest warrant if Netanyahu were on Irish soil. 

Which leads me to today's despair: Israel has resumed its bombing of Gaza and 86 children have died in an hour. I don't want to go back to last year and its ceaseless toll of children dying by the hour, my unending vigil and anguish, having to face the goddam cruelty and grief in this world. 

I can't explain the righteous outrage and fear coursing through so many private conversations these days around detentions and "disappearings" of student leaders and dissenters. Over and over again, people are debating if silence / unawareness / disregard is the better option. What can I say... You know that Niemöller poem that begins "first they came..."? It's not a very long poem, is what I'm saying.

Pic: Nu and Big A in the foreground with other students and families in the background at the "Admitted Students' Day" event this weekend. I want to take a moment to celebrate my Nu and their excitement about going to college in the fall. Truly, I did not imagine they'd be so excited... Nu even checks the college cafeteria menu on the online portal every day... it's adorable.