"Fight Cancer not Canada!"

There is so much happening every day. A rally for science today, a postcard writing campaign and a women's rally and another women's rally tomorrow... L and I plan to divide and conquer there.

Nu wanted to stay home from school. When I sent the school absence report form to the family chat, Big A asked if Nu was just going to take all Fridays off from now on. That's not a bad idea for Nu. Or for me?

Pic: Posters from the Stand Up for Science protest at the Capitol building today. The one that says "Fight Cancer not Canada" is my favorite. Pic by L. 

waiting to be discovered

I come back, back to myself
my ears lost in my hair
skin in hide and seek

while waiting for the rain
while making some tea
I am owed

after I leave I wait to arrive

an endless innovation 

of grief, of joy 

loneliness is only an ongoing

connection with time

strange at its best

I learn how to speak to myself 

in courageous tenderness

and enact rest

________________________

Pic: The kandi bracelet Nu made me and Tiggy-Winkle (after Beatrix Potter) the fidget hedgehog KPB crocheted for me. Aren't they amazing? They look like they could be friends and live together!

Marching Forth Again

I had a full teaching day, talked to my parents on the way to work, got lots of birthday visitors at work, and just... a lovely birthday! 

Friends, thank you for your wishes--I felt surrounded by love all day and your wishes in multiple places helped... I am so blessed and so, so grateful.

I wish I'd come to appreciate the serendipitous significance of my March Fourth/March Forth birthday earlier, but I'm running with it now. This year, apart from fighting fascism, I hope to prioritize working meaningfully on some of my longer projects. This was a new year's resolution that didn't quite take, but this is a good time to reset, I suppose.

Big A texted to say he'd "fucked up the cake." (He usually makes the chocolate cake from the recipe on the back of the Hershey's cocoa box, but there was no Hershey's in the store... and chaos!). It was just terrific, BTW. Went out for sushi with the fam, Nu made me a Kandi bracelet, At gave me books, Big A gave me a leaf blower of my very own so we could have leaf blowing duels and the now-customary card scrawled with all the dear details of our year that makes me cry every time.

(Now I can't wait for tomorrow and to be allowed to do stuff again. My parents used to do this, so I probably brought this tradition with me, but the birthday baby isn't allowed to do *anything* over the birthday weekend and sometimes it makes me feel a bit like I'm on a rest cure.)

Pic: Clockwise--Kids (Nu, At, Max, Huck), cake, me.

I Get By with a Little Help (Part #10754308659)

When C.D. heard that I hadn't been attending services on Sunday because sitting in silence by myself made me think of Scout and cry, she offered to go with me and hold my hand. (She usually goes to the Methodist church, not U.U.)

When E.M. showed up to write with me and saw the pile of table napkins that needed folding, she wordlessly set to work on the napkins right away.

When the young woman from whom I was going to buy the pond plants said when I showed up: "I don't want your money, I decided to give it to you for free." (I insisted that she take my five dollars anyway. And I think I hurt her feelings. I must remember that sometimes other people want to feel generous too.)

When my M.I.L. wrote in a card that I was "the sweetest and the fiercest." (I'm particularly proud of the fierceness because there are lots of fights I'll need to show up at.)

When L.B. and M.A. showed up early for bookclub to help me arrange things because I'd been working all day. (I'll forever remember the moment when I splashed some dressing, and LB who wouldn't have cared about it at her place knew it would bother me and got me a scrubber before I could turn around.)

(This one for the laughs it brought.) When I bought some pots at the Farmers Market and texted the young person who sold them about how beautiful they were, and they texted back that I was "more beautiful than the pots." My kids have been saying that I'm "more beautiful than pots" ever since.

Things I feel bad about not doing last week: Saying I'd help with cleaning up the Lansing Riverwalk and then not showing up. Turning down three students who wanted me to write recommendation letters for them--I'm not sure why they asked me since they'd never been in my classes, but still. "No" doesn't come easy.

Pic: A screengrab of Jane Fonda's acceptance speech of the SAG-AFTRA lifetime achievement award. What she says about staying in community and helping the vulnerable really spoke to me. The whole speech is here.

Updates and Pup-dates

Nance and Lisa mentioned GoodsUniteUs in the comments the other day as a way of checking out the politics of companies we're giving our $$ to. I agree that they're outstanding.

On a similar note, I've used Buycott in the past to check out specific brands--the app can scan UPCs, QRs, and barcodes while you're in the store. 

Engie mentioned looking up local stores on social media to get a read on their politics as well--I hadn't thought of that! 

J mentioned that she would be supporting local businesses and using cash, and that's such a great way to bypass the system. Several friends have mentioned this as a way to support small businesses as well. 

Stephany wondered where one would go for basics in the long term, and I haven't figured that one out yet. Bodegas?

The People's Union USA is taking the lead on Friday's economic shutdown--they're very new and worth/need keeping tabs on.

Pic: I find it so hilarious when Max does this--he bops Huckie on the head when he wants to play. They've already cleared all the pillows off the couches, but apparently there's more wild rumpus to follow.

"should I stay or should I go"

"Good Morning Akka," my baby sis texted me around 2:30 am... and then my mom got on the chat too and the three of us we were just... yakking for a while... (This is one of the many reasons my sleep patterns are so fucked.) And then, things got urgent. My mom who watches a lot of Turkish TV shows and has wanted to go to Turkey for a while and knows that Istanbul is huge on my list of places to visit because I'm a history nerd suggested we all go to Turkey together. She'd pay for my air ticket, she said. The three of us could share a suite. How about next week? We should go!

I asked Big A if I should go. (That's right, he usually works nights, so he was up reading beside me too; yet another reason my sleep is messed up.) He said to go for it. I have midterm break coming up next week and so I thought I could actually do it. But this morning, I looked at my calendar and realized that next week I'm in charge of the WGS sessions of the Michigan Academy conference and have board meetings, and am not completely off. Also, I was kind of looking forward to unwinding for a bit, and I'm a bit freaked out about planes falling out the sky. I'll probably stay.

I'm glad to see my mom is willing to spend that much money though. This was probably going to come from her "kum-kum money." (Kum-kum is sindoor/vermillion/the red powder Hindu women use in their hair as a marker of their married status.) Back in the day before middle-class Indian women worked, this was the money families gave their daughters when they got married so they wouldn't have to ask their husbands when they wanted to treat themselves to something. In Victorian novels, "Pin Money" seems to work this way? The amount varied according to the family. My grandmother's kum-kum money at her wedding was several mango orchards and required a manager and became the inheritance handed down to her own four daughters (including my mother). Unofficially, kum-kum money also worked as an emergency fund that could help women leave, if they decided they should go. 

Although Big A and I have everything in both our names, I still (and always will) have my kum-kum money in a separate account (I promised my parents this). And it's going to come in useful because just this morning, someone dear said they'd need help making their mortgage this month, and I know without consulting anyone that I am going to be able to be able to help. They'll be able to stay. 

Pic: Jumble of things on a shelf at work. I love that picture in the center with At reading to Nu so much... This was also around the time At had just discovered The Clash and loved belting out "Should I Stay or Should I go" as a punchline to everything.

stay unruly

In a recent post StephLove mentioned how when she visited her kid at Oberlin, she was "charmed by paper snowflakes in the windows surrounding a “Free Palestine” sign" because it made her "think about what it’s like to be in college, close enough to your childhood to make paper snowflakes, but old enough to be politically engaged."

I've thought about that image often since reading it, and it always makes me smile. It is particularly endearing. And it describes young people and their hopefulness and creativity perfectly... 

And in some way it also describes everyone I know. 

All of us making time outside of mandated work to create something or reach out to someone or share thoughts or start a conversation or make a difference are pushing back against a system that's built to keep people in narrowly-defined and isolated channels. 

I love the unruly nature of this. The system cannot rule us.

Yesterday, I looked up from typing just in time to see Nu (probably taking a break from homework) pick up an old party-favor-bubble-bottle that has been sitting on the table forever and blow out a stream of bubbles. I'm glad I caught that. That bubbling moment of playfulness in my child and the unexpected bubbles in my day.

Pic: Outside the window, are the icicles I think of as "the fangs of winter." Inside, my jasmine is budding profusely. Last May, a single bloom was so fragrant I nearly went mad with happiness. Fingers crossed for these buds.

fallout shelter breakout

there must be someplace where life takes place

outside the snarl and rattle of tyranny 

and everything else just waits

life could just be... beautiful even if useless 

longing could maybe be merely distance 

growing wordless, not mindless 

but my teen just doesn't yet know what happens  

to the Emmett Till Monument... doesn't even

know what they've done to Stonewall 

it feels like we've hardly caught up with history 

while events range--like mountain peaks

just absurd in scale and spilling over

so here we go again searching for surest shelter 

after gasping out how we'll never return 

just... going back and forth like that  

_____________________________

Pic: Serendipitously, a shelter I spied at Sleepy Hollow Park yesterday. 

the drumming in the wilderness

by the time this day ends 

I've  run  out  of  prayers

but  I've  made  an  altar

where  I grimly offer up 

my  pride,  my  surprise 

other  words  are  missing

(we'll  always  miss  them)

there is also indifference

its easy caress like a hook

escaping edicts, their edits

dim redactions--it's official

it's artificial--how we are all 

desperate as gossips--telling 

and listening at the same time

__________________

Pic: Store-bought chocolate cheesecake bites, store-bought valentine's day picks; assemblage 100% me. Max still doesn't know chocolate Valentine's Day treats are not for him--it's a good thing there are other treats he can have. Several long meetings today, but I somehow managed to power shop for our Post-Valentine's potluck tomorrow. We've already had some cancelations from long-distance friends due to the winter storm though... I think local friends will still be able to make it. Let's see. 

killing medicine

Big A posted this publicly, and I'm sharing a part of what he wrote here. The whole thing is basically a valediction for the medical progress he's seen over the course of his career and the reverses that are already beginning to happen. 

This is just one of the many, many, many stories from people like him who have devoted their lives to making a difference and are now seeing everything they've worked for being dismantled in a matter of days.

"As a premed at the NIH in the mid-90s, I volunteered at D.C.'s largest HIV clinic during the ongoing AIDS epidemic, and got a tour of Tony Fauci's lab from one of my co-volunteers who also worked in Bethesda. One of the most astonishing changes in the 30 years since is that we rarely see complications of advanced HIV infection in the ER.

As med students in Cleveland, we were regularly awestruck running into Fred Robbins, who received a Nobel prize for their contributions to the development of the polio vaccine, in the hallways,. I have never seen an acute case of poliomyelitis, but it's suddenly plausible I may. (Until 2024 I had never even diagnosed whooping cough; I've already been exposed twice in the past two months during a recent pertussis outbreak triggered in no small part by the number of unvaccinated children.)

I'm eternally grateful for having trained at Bellevue Hospital during the era of Lewis Goldfrank, who always put the needs of the marginalized and afflicted above those of corporate medicine and the capitalist healthcare system. And I'm lucky to have had support from the NIH as a postdoc, which has allowed me to devote some of my hours outside the ER to helping prevent fatal opioid overdose among my fellow Michiganders.

But the grants that pay for free naloxone come from the HHS, now led by an infamous anti-vaxxer and conspiracist (while, simultaneously, an unelected far right-wing industrialist is rapidly dismantling pieces of the global public health safety net)."

And so it goes. Sad and scary times. And it's happening all over, in the National Park Services, the Kennedy Center, and all across the federal workforce.

_________________

Pic: Huck and Max aren't ready for me to take this picture. Max is like: Mom! Do you mind? I just want to pee! We had a massive snowstorm--Huck is wading in snow.

easy hero

Sarah was so right about that feeling when you can "swoop in" and set things right for your older kids who are usually so independent, but are also... kids.

I stopped at the Genius Bar after work to get Nu's phone fixed. It would take them 90 minutes. I didn't have to make dinner (it's Nu's Boss Day and they were ordering Pokè), so I walked around the "lifestyle mall." Maybe I'm at a point where I really do have all I need, because I wasn't even tempted to buy anything. (Hero!) I'm sure I have a version of everything in the quarter century of colorful, curated stuff in my overstuffed closet. (Hero!)

Nicole and Lisa talked about laughing while listening to their podcasts on walks and wondered if people thought they were silly. I have the opposite problem--it was so cold, my eyes were streaming as I walked and people in cars kept giving me concerned looks or averted their eyes and twice stopped to ask if I was ok. (Heroes don't cry!)

Anyway, the Genius Bar charged me 0.00, Nu's phone was fixed, I picked up some tiramisu to be extra, and came home to a hero's welcome.

Pic: While I was waiting, it occurred to me that Nu's phone is attired in characteristic Nu fashion: ink-dark for the most part, but with plenty of sparkle, and a laconic sense of humor.

my tiny domestic tragedies

Big A seemed a bit better yesterday. But he didn't think so. I think he likes being taken care of. It makes me think of my hero, June Jordan, saying "None of us has known enough tenderness" and how Big A is usually the one taking care of people. Today A says he's better... but not well. Tomorrow he's scheduled to work. He plans to go for it despite my misgivings. 

Last year, when he ended up in the hospital for a week it was because of complications from the long Covid he got when he went to help out in NYC at the peak of the pandemic in May 2020 (way before any vaccine). So this third round of Covid terrifies me on a deep level--I keep imagining the effects lingering on even after things seem normal.

In the hits keep coming department: Nu's extensive filling came out, they slipped and fell on the ice, and their phone stopped working. Guess which thing made them cry? I'll have to get things fixed for my baby tomorrow.

This piece by Mhawish "I Spoke With 20 People in Gaza After the Ceasefire. My Heart Broke 20 Times" is as heartbreaking as it sounds, and is searingly poetic and will live inside me forever. This is massacre delicately uncovered to help us understand how excruciating the human loss in *each* of the hundreds of thousands reported dead, injured, and bereaved. How domestic tragedies multiply into humanitarian disgrace...

Pic: It's still icy, but there was some fresh snow, which made it easier to walk on and brilliant blue skies and sunshine. Max, Huck, and I are easily pleased, I guess.

it's not novel anymore?

After weeks of  warning everyone around us to be careful out there as there were all kinds of respiratory illnesses out there in the ether/E.R., Big A has developed Covid-pneumonia. He had this weekend off and we had all kinds of plans and I'm so sad and mad about him being sick and me having to quarantine. He gets antivirals tomorrow, so hopefully he'll start feeling better. 

This is round #3 of Covid for him. 

Also, if that wasn't enough, he accidentally got stuck with a needle from a patient with Hepatitis-C as it was being disposed. That's counted as an active exposure and so he'll have to get tested and keep getting tested for a few months to make sure he doesn't develop that too. Hep-C is very serious, and the more I read about it, the the more it feels like I'm looking down an abyss.

Both these things are exposure because of his being in the E.R., of course. We joke about how his job is apocalypse-proof and he'll get paid in potatoes and eggs because he delivered people's babies or set their bones. But I'm ready for him to find another job. (Nu too, probably. They weren't happy about having to cancel the sleepover they had planned for tonight and they were going to hang out and get ready for the school dance with friends here tomorrow too.)

Pic: Everything is frozen and this morning Max and Huck decided to play right in the center of the pond we dug last year. I know I could wade in and rescue them, but I do worry about the ice cracking and dunking them into the water... 

the many faces of care

We got a new set of knives (X-mas present) that I started using yesterday. I don't know if it was their unfamiliarity or if they're just really sharp but I immediately cut my palm (very stigmata-like!). 

Big A had just headed out to run some errands but popped back in (perhaps I'd yelped/perhaps he's clairvoyant) to check on me and sure enough I needed help. 

He applied pressure and yelled for Nu to grab a bandaid, which Nu delivered and Big A then applied to my palm after the bleeding stopped. 

Big A left.

I resumed dinner prep.

And I cut myself again.

I applied pressure to the wound myself and yelled for Nu to bring me another bandaid.

Nu came back. "Here," they said putting something down on the kitchen counter. "I got you a bunch of bandaids just in case you cut yourself some more."

_________________________

Pic: I had to be at work, but this afternoon there were protests against fascism at state capitols all across the country. This one is in Lansing. Photo via SN, one of the organizers (a trusted comrade for many years now... and someone I first encountered as a student in my composition class eight years ago).

"Ladies' Liquor and Cake"

I am lucky to know JS, the wonderful poet and human, whose brainchild "Ladies' Liquor and Cake" is.

When the invitation to this "essential frivolity" came a few weeks ago, it urged: "These are desperate times and we must cut to the quick: good company (essential), cake (of course) and liquor (naturally)."

I was happy to attend. Now I'm full of good company and cake, sushi (it's my Boss Day), I made time for a yoga sesh, I'm deep into a couple of good books, and also At came by and I got a good cuddle in with the best human cuddle baby I've made! What I can control is going really well.

Outside is still a mess.

Pic: JS had a place for people to post uplifting upcoming events at "Ladies' Liquor and Cake." Her baby's name is Scout too, and that's yet another reason I like being at her place.

uneven thoughts in uneven times

I break the trail     with an ice pick of panic      winter is removal       after all      and carry on      as if      I don't care     I don't want anyone     to see     I care

as it grows dark        with unwritten books      the ink shrinks     into ripples     of edict after cruel edict          they've called this chaos

shock and awe     rising to the center      into centuries    the injury       piercing the moment      everything swelling    out of reach     I witness     what is made--     

--for other people      watch it      come for me      I wait      as the wind loses its way     and wake to the wound     through which     the poem comes

_______
Pic: Max dares me to chase him on the icy snow. Look at his lope, he looks so lupine! 

prepping < resourcefulness < generosity

According to this article in the New Yorker,  many Americans are prepping for a second civil war. Anecdotally, I've certainly encountered my fair share of people talking about stockpiling canned goods, taking selfdefense classes, and buying firearms and so on since the election. Some of this seems sensible.

Extreme prepping seems like a lot. I'll never forget watching Cloverfield Lane with the kids long ago and being horrified by the John Goodman character. My At sagely told me that that was kind of the point--if you accidentally live through the apocalypse, the people around you are likely to be dreadful.

And here I was patting myself on the back, for being resourceful because I had a stubborn salt stain on my black boots that I disappeared by using a black Sharpie. I think I picked this up from the Julia Roberts character in Pretty Woman. She might have used a black eyeliner, but it's basically the same thing--we just have different tools of the trade, I guess. 

Pic: This is Mr. Arlo who was a welcome gatecrasher at my meeting with the MacCurdy students. I am so proud of my students' generosity and proposals on how they could use their house (a women's resource center) as a safe and welcoming space given the possibility of federal freezes, raids, etc. This is the mode that makes the most sense. 

seeing red until

Red Note: I tried the new place all the kids are decamping to in the wake of the potential TikTok ban--just to check it out. It was kinda confusing.

Red Book: Someone said: "Did you know that RedNote actually translates into "Little Red Book" as in Mao's Little Red Book?" That does not faze me. The Little Red Book has its moments. It's not like it's something written by Kim Jong Un. C'mon. I kept thinking about that person's outrage all day, and it was a bit funny.

Red Card: An international student wondered if we should be giving other international students "red cards." At first I thought it was something to do with the Lunar new year, but it was actually about how to prepare yourself for immigration raids. I was by turns sad and angry about this one. 

Red Envelopes: At the end of the day, dinner was with EM, whom I haven't seen in weeks and it was lovely to catch up. And of course she gave my grownass kids red envelopes with money in it for new year luck. Neither A's only sibling nor mine live near by so I'm glad and grateful for all the people who treat our kids as their niblings. 

Pic: Red envelopes for Nu and At today. Happy New Year of the Snake!

even the chipmunk does what it can...

One of my favorite bits in childhood retellings of the Ramayana is when Rama is building a bridge from the peninsular tip of India to Sri Lanka to rescue his partner Sita from Ravana who has kidnapped her. He has the help of his semi divine siblings and the Vanara army under the ace engineer and architect--Nala. But he also has the help of a little chipmunk who carries pebbles in its mouth to supplement the work of the huge army. Rama is so moved by the chipmunk's altruism, that he picks it up and gently strokes its back... and that's how the chipmunk got its stripes!

But the real point is that everyone does what they can to right a wrong. In fact, in some versions of the story, the chipmunk's pebbles cement the gaps between the giant boulders and are actually crucial to the structural stability of the bridge. I am reminded of this in so many ways. Two examples stand out for me today. One is StephLove putting her body on the line by protesting near the White House at the freezing of federal grants (the freeze has since been blocked by a federal judge). The other is a student who has been using their skill sets (English and Political Science) to annotate three significant executive grants so people can read and understand them more easily. 

Heroes. All the hearts. 

Pic: Huckie and Max, who clearly haven't eaten in days at the dinner table yesterday.

somehow tomorrow (will be the twentieth anniversary of our first date)

I would believe anything 
that started with you

I--still--do  

sure as any day climbing 

for hours then coasting 

down, on time

inside the churn of memory

time is a secret waterfall 

of it all

the soft singing at breakfasts

battles opening voices

love closing eyes 

oh, how we've danced our way 

for twenty unwritten years 

now going away

with the magic suddenness of deer 

whose hoofprints are filling 

with blowing snow

_____________________

Pic: I moved to the living room as Nu has a sleepover in the rumpus room, but Max found me for our evening cuddle.