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 

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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

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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.  

a very short journey to Varanasi

when  the priest  says it's time to wed

the groom declares he must leave now

he will go on a pilgrimage to Varanasi 

where  he yearns to become a scholar 

the  bride's brother  hurries after  him

with an umbrella, a brass pot of water

come back, he pleads, marry my sister

he waves the umbrella over the groom

who  is already dressed for a wedding

he  carefully washes  the  groom's feet 

with turmeric water from the brass pot 

in which marigold and rose petals float 

to soften his pleas, his clear entreaties...

the groom eagerly agrees, then presents 

his brother-in-law-to-be with a gold ring 

the wedding carries on as it was meant to

_____________________________________

Note: In South Indian Hindu wedding ceremonies there is a part called the Kasi Yatra (Pilgrimage to Kasi-Varanasi) which is such a little piece of theater. The groom declares that he's decided to continue being a bachelor student-scholar and takes a little ceremonial walk pretending to take off to the scholarly city Varanasi while the bride's brother is despatched to beg him to return to the wedding. They say it is to mark the passage of the groom from the state of bachelorhood to that of a householder. But it seems like a lot of drama. Haha. The groom is expected to give his brother-in-law-to-be a precious ring to reward him. My uncle still wears the ring my father gave him.