Multicultural Metropole

Our class went to Metropolitan University for a talk with Sunny Singh today. I had the same soft argument with Sunny as I've previously had with Big A. Sunny and Big A think Ta-Nehisi Coates is being lionized for "doing the bare minimum in speaking out against genocide" while I'm grateful that when so many continue to be silent, he's using his platform and risking his career. 

If I'm all cosmopolitanism this and kumbaya that, Sunny leads with a reckoning of "enslavement, colonialism, and genocide." She was dropping truth bombs and later I had to check in with students who were visibly upset and trembling. One of them said that it just hit them that their taxes would always fund genocides they didn't believe in. Devastating. 

Later a nice meander through Altab Ali Park, Bangladeshi Brick Lane, and Spitalfields Market to round off our morning of multicultural London. 

Pic: A bonus song at the end of Six, when the cast encouraged us to take pictures. It's a weird energy to check out a musical when you're homesick and worried about so many things in the world. But also, I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself while stranded halfway across the world, doing my job like everything is normal. It's my mom's birthday and I had a nice chat with her--can't say it helped my homesickness or my worry. 

Elgin Marbles and Radcliffe Lines

Pic: With the British Museum dome above us. We talk a lot of trash about The British Museum and their culture of "taking" and "borrowing." But when we're actually there at the museum, the dominant feeling is awe for the sheer wealth of human accomplishment on display.

Choice quotes: "No matter where you're from, you'll feel at home in the British Museum because there will be stuff from your home country there." Ha. 

"You mean to say he just took the stuff from the ancient Greeks and then named it after himself?!" Cf. Elgin

And I can't help thinking how the India-Pakistan discord is the legacy of British misrule, mismanagement, and drawing hasty borderlines. 

"Come What May, We're Here to Stay"

Afternoon lectures today at the University of London via colleagues River Baars and Lola Olufemi. River's lecture was about British Asian Youth Movements (AYMs), and as promised, they "seamlessly" integrated the supreme court decision about Palestine and the biological definition of woman into their lecture. Students were blown away by Lola's radical revisioning of time and multidirectionality. "I feel like my brain grew three sizes," I heard someone comment.

In our morning session we connected the cosmopolitan threads linking a bunch of stuff from Eddy Grant's dancehall hit "Electric Avenue" and the Brixton Uprising to Stokley Carmichael/Kwame Ture sparking the Black resistance in the UK. The cross-cultural solidarities amongst everyone "politically black" in the UK is particularly heartening with British Asian Youth Movements supporting everything from Black Lives Matter to the Bradford 12. Today's post title is one their lasting slogans. But I like the one they borrowed from The Children of Soweto too: Don't Mourn; Organize!" I know that'll play in my head the next time I'm worried about the world.

Pic: A mural at the top of our street with the words "No child should be a part of war. Ever." I expected to get homesick and sad next week, but I'm--inexplicably--already there. AND after I wrote that, I found out from a text DV sent me just now that India and Pakistan are at war. I called my family, and they tried to calm me by saying the south is usually safer. But also that they're having "mock drills" today to prepare. It all feels so surreal.

Eye on London

Pic: It's our tourist-y day with a river cruise and visits to several major London landmarks. A good way to overcome/work off our arrival fatigue and jet lag. Here's the class looking adorable with the London Eye in the background.

I usually have students declaim some of the famous landmark poems at the landmarks. Some of what we read for today included: Louis MacNeice “London Rain,” William Wordsworth “Composed Upon Westminster Bridge 1802,” William Blake “London,” Robert Bridges “Trafalgar Square,”  D. H. Lawrence “Hyde Park at Night, Before the War,” Amy Lowell “A London Thoroughfare at 2 am,” Brian Bilston “They’re Renovating Buckingham Palace,” Evie Shockley “London Bridge,” John Betjeman “Summoned by Bells at St. Paul’s," Theresa Lola “Flagship of Buzz,” and Patience Agabi “The London Eye.”  I especially love how in the final poem there's a glimpse of Wordsworth writing "Westminster Bridge" and the shoutout to the older poem, down to the year 1802 cleverly reconfigured.

In line for tea at the cafe, a Canadian woman told me that she'd canceled her trip to the US and decided to travel to the UK instead. I completely understand. I also understand how kind people use these kinds of conversational gambits to suss out other people's positions and to offer consolation. 

London Blues

Pic 1: Our travel class is called "The Empire Writes Back: Adventures in Cosmopolitan England" and is obviously based on theories of cosmopolitanism. (More the contemporary Appiah-Sen-Nussbaum take on it rather the Greek version, but still.) My nerdy learners, whom I'm so proud of, were excited to tell me that cosmopolitanism had been a Jeopardy answer the day before we left, and that some of them nerded out to their families about it. (Student pic.)

Pic 2: In other nerdy news, I did very well on the trivia contest on the flight and then got a bit nerdier and beat my own high score. (My pic.)

In addition to these two happy pictures in blue, we've had some minor travel woes. There was considerable difficulty finding our transfer coach until the airport marshal helped us. Also, our Oyster cards, which are our main form of transportation inside the city, seem to have a zero balance although they're supposed to last us two weeks. This needs to get figured out tomorrow... but it's a bank holiday and may not. Pfft.

traveling (like) light

 

here, on our way

our connections belonging

only to ourselves 

history's hooks dangling

 carrying instructions

treading eternally in travel

flighty and watery 

brave before memory

yet imagining every thing...

foreign for moments

knowing our effects are light 

yet baggage enough 

for other people to live out 

of them for a lifetime

___________________________ 

Pic 1: Like I did last time, I got everyone identical scarves to loop onto our backpacks so we can ID each other easily. (My pic.)

Pic 2: I'm so grateful for this community of eager learners. They were willing to construct and present on their keywords and concepts in the airport on our long layover. (Pic by our travel chaperone.)

all the things

I managed to do all the things today:

I'm mostly packed (carry-on only for two weeks).

Took Nu to see Sinners again per request. (My THIRD time.)

Watered my zillion plants and asked them to stay happy and healthy until I return, please!

Decorated for At's birthday, got the cake photo-ready, and packed her presents. 

At is 26!!! Celebrated with At, dropped presents off at her place and then went to dinner with At and friends.

Booked it early to go to the CASA gala. (I couldn't let them down...)

Came home and realized that I'd left the student health info and travel health insurance docs in my office AT WORK, so I  made a two-hour trip to retrieve them in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. This is the part I didn't plan for and could have done without. 

Now I'm checked-in and waiting for Big A to drop me off at the airport when he wakes up.

Pic: FB reminded me that 15 years ago we hired a party bus to take At and a bunch of friends, cousins, and grandparents to a Dave and Busters to celebrate turning 11. (At and Nu corner right. How cute, chubby, and kind of portable! And Big A just beyond them... his hair!)

I'm there

let's not keep fighting           

                              the same wars         

their adjectives          

                           and geographies   

are only those of mortality          

                          speak surrender          

                          sweet surrender          

I don't think we get to escape          

                       anymore than clouds

                       can keep their shape          

the victory is that we were          

                  and sometimes 

we were together

______________________________

Pic: Sunrise with Max. As I get ready to leave for the U.K. for two weeks while vaguely worrying about being allowed to return, I think this is one of the many moments I will miss while I'm away. Not unrelatedly, I am so happy that Mohsen Mahdawi has been released. I listened to this interview he gave the day before, while he was still detained, and loved it so much I shared it on family chat. It's worth the ten-minute listen.

Spirit of Scoutie

We picked this spot for Scout's memorial because of the way he'd always come bounding up to greet me around that bend.

And while I didn't bury Scout's ashes there (what if we move?), we put up a wind chime and a solar lantern, and when Max and I  are out on our first walk early every morning, we (ok, I) sound the wind chime.

Big A and I talk about how Max manifests some of Scoutie's quirks--the way he snuggles in the crook of my knees, "side-mopes," wrestles with Big A and so on. He's not as interested in food, gentle with Huck or a crybaby as Scout was though. And Max worships Nu--Scout wasn't ever sure if Nu was his younger sibling or older sibling.

Now that I've written that out, it's clear how much Max is unlike Scout... But Big A says he has the "spirit of Scoutie." So sometimes when I come upon Max just chilling by Scout's memorial, it really makes me stop in my tracks.

Pic: Max out by Scout's memorial. (Nu's more matter-of-fact theory is that he's treed Kylo, our black-garbed squirrel and Max's arch friendly rival.)

three moms and three mommy dilemmas

Yesterday, I joined EM, EM's mom, and EM's mom's best friend at dinner to celebrate EM's mom's birthday. I loved hearing all the stories about Baby EM as much her mom loved telling them. (And also, I loved telling Big A that she told me to tell him that he was a very lucky guy.)

Today, I had a long tea with JG and she got kind of bashful at the end of our visit and then offered me some of her mom's jewelry, because she's always said that her mom (who passed away thirty years ago and I never got to meet) would have loved me. From everything I hear, the feeling's mutual. I was nearly moved to tears by the honor and and have picked out two pieces that I will treasure.

And this evening, in unexpectedly terrific news, my mom called to say she might make it to Nu's graduation party!

The thing is... I've been keeping a secret from her that I should probably disclose to her before she gets here. The secret's not wholly mine, but it's my mom, so I'm going to have to step up. That's dilemma #1. 

Friday is At's birthday. I was planning to do family dinner with At and then hurry to a fancy dinner I RSVPed "yes" to because I was nominated for a CASA award. (This is what the fam encouraged me to do, and they were going to accompany me too.) From the detailed itinerary I was sent this afternoon, however, it looks like I did NOT win the award. Would I be a dick if I changed my RSVP now? This is dilemma #2.

And finally, I will be far away from my kids on Mother's Day as I'm scheduled to be in the U.K with my travel Spring Term. Should we celebrate long distance, or arrange a M.U.M. Day (Make Up Mother's Day) as we did last year?

Pic: I love dandelions. Lately, I've been torturing myself with thoughts about having let Scout play in a nearby park with no dandelions, which means the place may have been sprayed with toxic chemicals, which means he may have ingested some, which means that may have caused his tumor, which means Scout would be alive if I had been a bit smarter. 

no doubt, no learning

no doubt, no learning, the guru says
these days flicker across your face
the sun dismantles every silence
and hangs up a chorus of desires 

made of bruises and credulousness 

a necklace of words around your throat

*

you don't even know that you're happy 
crying for something you can't recall

discovering circles of people

the drowned sounds of places

the burning earth, the world we made 
where everything can be turned into song 

________

Pic: The Red Cedar on my way back from breakfast yesterday. I love how this is from the bridge right in the center of the city and reportedly the most dangerous traffic intersection. But if I look away to my right, all is calm. 

Sunday moments

It was a beautiful day. I walked over to the breakfast spot where I was supposed to meet Engie for a long, leisurely, and luxurious breakfast. It feels like we're old pals at this point as this is meeting #3? 4?  

I listened to the Sinners soundtrack on repeat and argued with At about a lot of close readings and easter eggs in the movie... When she sent me a "Good Morning, Sinners" meme," I archly responded by reminding everyone that vampires can't do mornings. It may have been my finest moment.  

No. Actually, my finest moment was when I finally stopped fidgeting with the spacing and margins on the Spring Term syllabus and hit publish. I'm so excited to see everyone in the classroom again tomorrow.

Jeanie's partner Rick was hosting a classical guitar duo concert at his home and I was looking forward to seeing Jeanie for the second time this week. But I was mistaken in thinking the concert was in the evening--it was in the afternoon. Alas, Big A had tickets to the Pistons-Knicks playoffs in Detroit, so we weren't able to make it. It was a tragic and controversial loss for the home team... (Look at me parroting stuff like I know what that means.)

Pic: Big A's pic of the messy end of the Pistons-Knicks game today. 

Stream-of-consciousness Saturday

The NEH-funded medical-humanities conference I was so happy about being accepted to got canceled because their funding got canceled. 

Unrelatedly, EM and I started another proposal. I like how we work together on a document--throwing words and phrases on there and then randomly picking things up to stitch them together--it feels a bit like a sewing circle, honestly.

Suture-removal from surgery will happen on Wednesday... my mind has decided to start panicking about that. 

I could panic about the Spring term class that starts Monday, but my syllabus is so neat and the schedule is color-coded and looks so pretty, I'm kinda excited to share it with my students.

Also excited about the new backpack and new shoes I got to replace the multi-year, multi trip old timers.

Big A and I went to see Sinners again. In IMAX, no less. There's a story there about colonialism I want to unspool and the music is stunning. I found new things to be surprised by in that one time-meld sequence. 

Also surprising: I know I already met two bloggers this week, but I'm going to meet two bloggers again tomorrow. Quite the week! 

Pic: The hyacinths are here and their fragrance is heady.

well

I was racing like a reverse Cinderella to the sound of the bells striking the hour down the steps into the building yesterday. I would have preferred to stay home and mope, but I was due in court for the new CASA case. I was a bit slow leaving, but I got there just in the nick of time.

As it turned out it was a good thing. Although the case itself is sad, seeing all the people fighting to keep children protected was perhaps what I needed to see. 

There was a new prosecuting attorney, who, young as they seemed to be, knew how to ask the precise questions to redirect testimony back to the notable points. The doctor patiently giving expert evidence about about bones healing, made a nerdy comparison to Gothic arches. The judge always makes sure that everyone understands the legal procedure, providing summaries and outlines to help. 

There are many things wrong with our society, of course, but also so many reminders that so many are doing their best. There are such deep pockets of goodness and wellness in our society. 

Pic: Cherry blossom in full bloom. Beal Gardens w/ Lisa and Jeanie 4/22.

the terrible two-year anniversary

Today marks two years since we said good bye to Scout. 

I continue. 

The pain isn't as crushing as it was, but it persists. 

Most days, the hashtag #ScoutDay makes it to my posts because it was day that I missed him. 

Yesterday, I left trivia night in tears--not because we came in second (ha), but because the bar kept flashing a picture of a puppy who looked so much like Scout on their screen. 

Scout started popping up in our conversations and dreams even more than usual earlier this month--even before I made the calendar connection. I was amazed how our souls seemed to know this anniversary was coming up even before our minds figured it out.

Scout was certainly my once-in-a-lifetime "soul puppy." I'm so lucky to have had ten years with him... I wish every day it could have been longer.

He was the boy with the blaze.

I'm glad we got that final picture with the cherry blossoms.

I wish I could find a home for this poem about him. 

I love this early picture of him.

I'm glad he had a the best last day we could give him.

Goodbye my sweet Scout Akshaya. 

Pic: Scout and me on a Christmas trip to Ohio. He was always up for a selfie... or anything, as long as we were together.

everything is... connected

Robert Reich, one of the more public, progressive, pro-union voices, has been a source of hope for a long time. I have been especially grateful for him this year for his posts like "Ten Reasons for Modest Optimism" and statements that have become mantras to me: we are the leaders we've been waiting for; we can maintain decency in a time of monsters; courage is contagious...

I also feel connected to Michael Schwerner. Ever since I accidentally walked into a dusty storeroom in a house in the middle of Ohio--a house we would later live in--and found a picture of my fellow compatriot, Mahatma Gandhi, twinkling up at me. It was a picture of Gandhi on a certificate awarded to Michael Schwerner from his early years at CORE (The Council for Racial Equality). Michael "Mickey" Schwerner is, of course, one of the civil rights workers killed during the Freedom Summer of 1964 along with Chaney and Goodman in the case that garnered national attention and helped hasten the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965. Our house in Yellow Springs had belonged to Steven Schwerner, Michael's older brother and Dean of Antioch College who had moved away to Brooklyn to be closer to his grandkids. I kept finding traces of Michael Schwerner's presence in that house over the years and felt the jolt of his idealism every time.

So imagine my shock when Robert Reich mentioned that because he'd always been bullied for being short, in school he'd relied on kind older kids to protect him and one of those kids was "Mickey." Yes, Mickey Schwerner! He goes on to say that when he got to college and found out what had happened to Michael, he "began to see bullying on a larger scale" and credits this as the beginning of his insight into and involvement with social justice. It's amazing how just one well-lived life can ripple out across time and space and influence millions of others. I did not know that two people I thought of so highly were connected in such an immediate way. Rest in Power, Michael Schwerner.  

Pic: The woods at the back of the house have begun their greening. 

bloggy goddess goodness

A lovely afternoon with Lisa and Jeanie!

Lisa and I walked to Daffodil Hill, through a bit of Baker Woods, the Children's Garden, and the Horticultural Gardens and met up with Jeanie at The Broad Art Museum... which was inconveniently closed today. We meandered through Beal Gardens and the Riverwalk back to dinner.

I thought I'd leave Lisa and Jeanie alone to get some one-on-one time (they've known each other for over fifteen years!) to sprint ahead and get dinner started. But when I picked up the mail and turned the corner into the driveway, I saw them sitting on the porch! 

Meeting friends you've made online is such an affirming experience--there's such a wealth of already shared experience and so much to talk about. We had a lively dinner with the family--talking about books and movies and what we haven't read, Max and Huck eating sorbet off a spoon under the table. Goodbye came too soon.

Afterwards, At wanted to go see Sinners, so the fam headed to the movies. I closed my eyes through some of the more gory parts and may have accidentally (and characteristically) fallen asleep. The music and score were tremendous. (I love Ryan Coogler's work in Black Panther. We actually bought Fruitvale Station, but I haven't yet been able to steel myself to actually watch it.)

Pic: Jeanie, Lisa, me (and behind us Zaha Hadid's amazing construction for The Broad). 

"Just asking, not coming for you"

J said something in comments yesterday about The Last of Us that I didn't understand because I'm not watching the show anymore. There's something very bonding and clarifying about watching a post-apocalyptic show together... Something about imagining what you might do to survive, who your tribe would be, whom and what you would protect, and also whom you would be against. It's a good emergency preparedness template, which is why the CDC adopted it. I remember watching The Walking Dead with teen Atulya and then finding ourselves on the subway in NYC after a visit to Sarah Lawrence College trying to come up with a plan on how to connect in case there were no trains or planes and At ended up going there for college. 

The Last of Us was a great show we were all watching together until At, who was playing the game, got uncomfortable with some of the politics of it. Once you see the Scars as a stand-in for Palestinian othering, it's difficult to not to be pulled by it. (It's not so much "cancel culture" as being wary of producers normalizing their fucked up worldview through their art. The standard example that comes to mind is Luc Besson's 1994 film The Professional featuring a 13-year-old [12-year-old Natalie Portman] falling in love with an [adult] assassin. Art is art and all stories deserve to get told, but when you learn that Besson himself first met his wife when she was 12, you have to wonder what messages he's embedding, and if he's using his art to manipulate the public's attitude and consent.)

Anyway, my kids tried to make me feel bad about the Kendrick Lamar love, and sent me to this article. Maybe I'm in denial, but apart from platforming Kodak Black, I don't see anything credible? "Just asking, not coming for you," one of them reassured me.

I'm grateful they really do seem to love coming to the Easter Egg Hunt. I'd be okay even if they were just humoring me, but they really, really love it. "It's my favorite tradition," Nu said. I said, "I thought Christmas Eve with new pajamas and lots of books was?" Nu's reply: "No that's yours, because you're a nerd." This is true.

Pic: At, Nu, Max, and Huck following rhyming clues to find eggs. Today, as At was away with friends yesterday. 

hopping over to happy

So many friends didn't make it to the protests yesterday, but they still seem to have been well attended overall. I know I needed a break. I needed a break last week. (And did take one.) And NGL, I was relieved I had a good excuse in commencement this weekend. 

I'm usually such a news hound and love following the way a story breaks and builds. But right now, the screwy sophistry of our times would make that (probably literally) maddening. I mean... have you seen the executive Easter message? 

Quick! Pivot! Focus on joyful things! 

I am IN LOVE with this song and its whole dreamlike vibe. I'm seeing Kendrick and SZA in Detroit in June and that feels like a dream too.

And I sent out the invites for Nu's graduation party (with Nu's approval). The date's right in the middle of the week, because that's when Big A is off and my MIL will be here, but I know my friends got me. I so wish my parents and sister and aunts and uncles AND COUSINS could be here too...

Pic: Easter brunch. I never take table pix when guests are here because it feels impolite, but it was just us today. If you squint, you can see a  field of flowers instead of my eggy brunch bake :) next to the chicks and flowers the kids and I always make from boiled eggs for Easter. (The chocolate easter egg cake isn't me, it's from the talented bakers at Costco.)

please clap

People have probably been at protests and marches today, but it was commencement today at school, so that's where I was.

I'm so inordinately proud of my students. Even if someone has had just the one class with me, I'm so happy for them and excited to see them robed, getting their diploma. We have a gauntlet at the end of the ceremony (we have a gauntlet that bookends their opening convocation too) where we clap the students out to the sound of our homegrown bagpipers and it's one of my favorite traditions. It's a good thing we're a small school, because I'll clap earnestly for every student going on stage whether I know them or not. 

Pic: A colleague took this pic and said I looked "stupid happy." "Are you happy someone is leaving?" they quipped. Actually, I'm sad I won't see some amazing students as they head off into the world. And I'm thankful for the kind cards some of them gave me. I'll treasure all of it forever.  

Post title from that Jeb Bush moment. Remember when that was funny? Also: One of my secret superpowers is that I'm good at getting applause going in a crowd. That first person who starts clapping? That's sometimes me.