a book (+ the files)

A beautiful book, Sonya Renee Taylor's The Body is Not an Apology, for a bookclub via the college librarians. I've been trying to get students to sign up for it, but so far it's all faculty and staff. 

It's a 2018 book, so it's unaware of the 2026 avatar of horror... But she uses what she calls "The Donald" to distinguish beautifully between people who think highly of themselves and radical self love: "Even if we were to surmise that Trump and others like him are acting from an exaggerated lack of selfesteem or confidence, I think we can agree not much of their attitudes or actions feel like love." Absolutely!

Is anyone seeing the info being released from the Epstein Files? What is this horror? I have all this grief and anger about the children harmed (killed?) and how so many people who have patriarchal power in our society--presidents, billionaires, writers, gurus--seem to have been involved. And now... nothing. No accountability. No consequences. How have we not risen up to expel them? Why are clowns asking that we stop attacking pedophiles?! Why are so many university folks connected to this? Larry Summers has always been disgusting, but Noam Chomsky? Poetry prof Elisa New? 

Pic: That's supposed to be the The Red Cedar, but it just looks like a a solid vastness of snow and ice. I miss when everything was brighter and warmer. Apparently, there's more coming. Do. Not. Want. Another snow storm. Another snowmageddon. I haven't even recovered from the last one. Walk with L yesterday.

Speaking up

Yes. Called my reps to share my thoughts about holding ICE accountable to court orders (they currently flout them) and asking for arrests for anyone who perjured themselves with regard to the Epstein files.

Yes. Noticed that teaching days on my projected Fall schedule looked preternaturally lengthy and would leave me with 12-hour campus days. Spoke to my chair and they're working on modifying it to something more sustainable. 

No. At a meeting (where I was the only person of color in the speaker's line of vision), they made a "joke" characterizing me as a "bad teacher." (Thoughts that flashed in my head: I love my students. I've won teaching awards. A student named the teacher character in their video game after me. Nicole gave a teacher my name in her novel. In all of the polycrisis of the last year, teaching is the thing that has sustained me, and the one ball I didn't drop. I try to be a good teacher, I wanted to say... Instead, I chuckled awkwardly.) 

Pic: It's so cold, someone put a jersey on the statue of Sparty outside the football stadium.

disjunction

It's like duh...              I do know what "dead" means             but then also... where did she go?             forever sounds like a trick              and so... does this mean          we can't talk again            (but we're always talking again)                      everything is costumed as a clue                          I follow as an amateur shaman           (also theologian astrophysicist)           with denial and love woven inside me              days keep ending; I keep finding ways          to wake them up again               it would be heaven if she were here             

                         that heaven I wouldn't mind her being in 

_____________

Pic: a gorgeous sunset on my way home... I'd never seen a column/beam/plume like that before. 

 

continuity

I did not have any big resolutions for the year.

And truly, I'm at a point where I want to move through the world with ease and empathy rather than trying to upgrade myself into some model of efficiency... 

If anything, I think I do too much and hold myself to standards only I care about.

This year, I will let myself be playful and curious rather than serious.

Pic: EM's post dinner photo of Nu reading to Max and Huck. Nu was home briefly this weekend to see Hadestown with us. They are reading from a book called Bedtime Stories for Dogs. JN had it sent to me from Thrift Books because I'd told her I was reading to Max and Huck. The book cost all of $1.29, but tells me how rich I am in friendship. 

back to life

January is gone. It was cruel. 

It was a clusterfuck. 

Or to put it more politely, in a word I learned this year, it was a polycrisis, overwhelmed by bad news and hemmed in by uncertainty. It's not surprising that I kept trying to start and restart and kept failing. It felt like some part of me already knew... But finding out from last semester's class notes that this was the week (Week 5) when I headed home for the funeral was the slow-motion gut punch on repeat I did not need. 

But I'm here, so once more into the breach, I guess. 

Adam Serwer's piece in The Atlantic, had this absolutely remarkable passage I cannot stop rereading: "The secret fear of the morally depraved is that virtue is actually common, and that they’re the ones who are alone. In Minnesota, all of the ideological cornerstones of MAGA have been proved false at once. Minnesotans, not the armed thugs of ICE and the Border Patrol, are brave. Minnesotans have shown that their community is socially cohesive—because of its diversity and not in spite of it. Minnesotans have found and loved one another in a world atomized by social media, where empty men have tried to fill their lonely soul with lies about their own inherent superiority. Minnesotans have preserved everything worthwhile about “Western civilization,” while armed brutes try to tear it down by force." SO much yes!

And Tressie McMillan Cottom says about political exhaustion that sometimes it's not retreat and rest one needs but actually action and connection. That "sometimes we're not exhausted because we're aware of too much, we are exhausted because we're doing too little." The antidote, she says is to get involved, as "people who feel agentic aren't as tired." This is something for me to remember.

Pic: Baker Woods with L. I feel like the trees are nodding their wise heads over me. 

down and then a recharge

I spent Friday night in the E.R. with Nu (so thankful they're ok now), and there was another fatal ICE shooting in Minneapolis. 

My brain is fried, my heart is sore. 

Friday's meetings got shifted online due to the weather, so I absolutely did not have driving to the E.R. at 2 am in -20 degree weather with my car barely 50% charged in my plans. I made it with 8 miles left on the battery. But I found a charger in town and recharged.

I got a heart recharge too with bestie KB too. She spent two days here and I heard about her adventures marching with her fellow Minneapolitans, we talked our hearts out, and I have plans to see her again later this week, so it's not goodbye yet. 

Pic: Timeline cleanse. Huck, Max, and K. It was Max's first time meeting K, and he was all over her. 

Minneapolis goodness

What a day! Labor and faith groups led a general strike in Minneapolis--thousands upon thousands marched, hundreds of small businesses closed for the day. It was just inspiring to see streets full of people braving subzero temperatures demanding ICE get out of their city. It really revitalized my faith in people power.

Over 600 faith leaders from all over the country showed up, and I saw pictures of them on social media protesting at the airport trying to shut things down so deportation flights couldn't take off. 

Another good thing out of Minneapolis--Bestie KB is coming for a visit this weekend! I hope her flight out of MPLS is able to take off!

Pic from In These Times.