I could write a beautiful, poignant 1,000-word version of this post that’d keep me from my kids for a couple hours. Alternatively, I could write a more succinct, less illuminating version that takes me only ten minutes. I’m opting for the latter.
My sister Rache and I are very similar in some ways. She’s an ASNAC nerd who took me to the Jorvik Viking Center on my one trip to England, so we definitely diverge in some ways, but … in many ones where it counts, we’re clearly cut from the same cloth. Read more…
I laughed and wept, both alternately and simultaneously, as I read Angie Thomas’s
For a couple years now, I’ve witnessed as names become hashtags. I’ve seen people killed twice over:
when breath was stolen
from their bodies;
when their lives were stolen,
too, swept away by words like
“no angel” or “drug dealer” or “thug,”
as if an entire life
is worth no more
than its worst
I’ve understood how a person, once painted an “offender,” is seldom understood as worth one more thought. I’ve struggled to explain how
each life taken
is a loss insufferable,
a. loss. of. a. whole. life.
(that could have been anything)
When I read the fictional-but-not-really-fictional, staggering, powerful The Hate U Give, my whole body sighed. I saw that this is how people understand the life behind the death; the years of needless hate behind a moment’s sanctioned bullets.
While this exact Khalil never lived in this flesh-and-blood world, he lived in a heart that bled onto pages. Those pages are now being read by thousands upon thousands of people. And this Khalil, though he lives in heart and page, represents many who lived
Once upon a time, each of these people lived and laughed and cried and yearned. Their ability to do these things ever again was stolen from them, but you and I? By remembering them, we can change the world.
By remembering them, we can
Many thanks to Alison Doherty for the recommendation
I watched Jordan Peele’s Get Out tonight. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to write, but I do know it needs to go behind a cut. There will be spoilers.
If you’re like me, you’re super uncomfortable talking about race and racism as a white person in the U.S.
If you’re like me, you’ll keep on talking–and, more importantly, listening!–anyway.
For more on this, please read “On Building Racial Stamina: the Journey Out of White Fragility.”
my family and i
paid for our hotel room
in usually lily-white eugene, oregon
before we were actually able
to enter said room
went for a walk
for our room