White People: Listen, and then Educate Yourselves

As I sat down to write this, I started scrolling through my past posts. My post on Charlottesville, my post on the 2016 election, my post on Ferguson. And here I am again, begging white people to do the work necessary to dismantle the systemic racism in this country, because it's on us--the people who created it--to tear it down. 

So listen to your black friends/family/neighbors/colleagues, and then educate yourself. Ask questions if you need, but don't expect them to teach you about something your ancestors created. 

Below is a list of some of the resources that I've read/watched as I've tried to educate myself. This list is by no means exhaustive, and my own work continues. 

History Lessons: 

Wilkerson's book traces the migration of over six million Black Americans from the South to the North from 1915-1970s as they looked for better lives. She focuses on three individuals in particular--Ida Mae Gladney, George Swanson Starling, and Robert Pershing Foster--telling their lives before their moves, the issues they had while moving, and the issues they encountered once they found their new homes. (Spoiler: racism and segregation aren't just a Southern thing.) A really good overview of the time and the people who continue to change our country.

I know Dr. King's name has been used to try to discredit what is currently going on, so I hesitated to include the movie here, but I think it's important for people to realize that it hasn't mattered HOW Black Americans have protested in the past--white people have never liked it. A good look at the lead-up and consequences of the March on Selma. 

Also: Check out Rep. John Lewis' three volume graphic novel memoir March about his experiences during the same time period. I would recommend watching  movie and then reading the graphic novels together. 

Black America and the Criminal Justice System: 

Michelle Alexander takes a deep look into the criminal justice system and the practices put into place that have resulted in more Black Americans behind bars in this country than were enslaved. It isn't a coincidence that these policies took over once Jim Crow laws were abolished. 

Ava Duvernay's documentary The 13th covers much of the same ground as Alexander's book, particularly how our justice system actually kept slavery in the Constitution with the 13th Amendment: "Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States." 

That loophole has allowed our government to justify the things discussed in Alexander's book as well as the "tough on crime" stance of a lot of our politicians (on both sides of the aisle). 

Bryan Stevenson is the founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, dedicated to ending mass incarceration and racial inequality. His book chronicles his experiences both as a lawyer in Alabama working to free people wrongfully charged and as a black lawyer in the South. 

(This was recently turned into a movie starring Michael B. Jordan as Stevenson, but I haven't watched it yet.)

Memoir/Essay: 

James Baldwin's 1963 work was written during the centennial of the Emancipation Proclamation, and consists of two letters, one to his nephew discussing what life is like as a young black man in America. His line "This is your home, my friend, do not be driven from it; great men have done great things here, and will again, and we can make America what it must become" contrasts greatly with current administration's views on this country, as well as echoing Langston Hughes' poem, Let America Be America Again. 

An incredibly important work, this one should really be at the top of your list. 

The eighteen pieces in the collection, written by contemporary authors of color (Black and otherwise), address the situations Baldwin brought up over fifty years ago. These essays, poems, and memoir continue the conversation of race in this country--both historical and contemporary, as well as the hope for the future. 

Following in Baldwin's footsteps, Coates' 2015 book is a letter to his teenaged son about being a Black man in America and everything that entails, including the very real threat of police brutality. 

Fiction/Poetry:

Rankine's work was published in 2014, only a few months after Michael Brown was murdered by police in Ferguson, MO. This is a mixed media work, including poems, artwork, and video links that address the spectrum of racism Rankine and her friends have experienced, from subversive to the explicit. 

This is one of the most powerful pieces I've read in recent years, and asks that you look at your own biases and place in the systemic racism in the country. 

Ruffin imagines a not-so-distant dystopian future (present? It's hard to tell, and that's the point.) where a Black father decides to do everything he can to protect his biracial son from society, including medically lightening his skin. It's a horrific, chilling look at a world not that different from our own, where Black men are forced to wear surveillance devices, police can legally cut off locs, and deportation "back to Africa" is a justified punishment. 

Ruffin recently tweeted: 

    Reader Question: why did you make the police so brutal in your book? 

    Me: I didn't make them anything. 

We're seeing evidence of that every day. 

Don't be put off by the "Young Adult" tag on this novel. It's every bit as important as all the works on this list. (I'll save my rant on the dismissal of YA lit for another day.) Angie Thomas tells the story of Starr Carter, a young Black teen who lives in a poor Black neighborhood but attends a predominately white high school. She witnesses the death of her best friend at the hands of a police officer, and has to decide whether or not to come forward with what she knows. Meanwhile, the national media attention and protests begin, with very real consequences for everyone involved.

Read it. And then watch the movie. With lots of tissues nearby. 

And as always, 

Life Is Not Ok Right Now

I finally lost it last night.

I broke down and cried for the first time since New Orleans/Louisiana issued a stay at home order. Four weeks of me trying to being the strong one, teaching online, checking on friends and family, trying to be optimistic (more time to read is always a good thing!), and I cracked.

It came out of nowhere. I was watching a video love letter to New Orleans from a man in New York City. In it, I saw my adopted home: full of interactions, joy, hugs, smiles, music; full of life. And I cried.

I miss my students, even the ones that drive me crazy. Especially the ones that drive me crazy.

I miss my colleagues, that amazing group of educators dedicated to insuring that our students know they're loved and cared about in the midst of all of this.

I miss my New Orleans friend-family. I miss their faces, their hugs, their dumb jokes.

I miss being able to go out to restaurants, bars, festivals, theaters.

I miss being able to walk down the streets, seeing the strange and wonderful variety of people who inhabit this city.

I miss being able to travel. 

I miss the crush of humanity.

I miss life.


New Orleans isn't supposed to be quiet. We're not supposed to be separated from our community. We're supposed to be out in the streets, enjoying each other's company. Instead, we're mourning our losses separately, unable to gather together to share the sorrow. No one here is untouched. I have friends who have had the coronavirus or who are waiting on test results, and friends who have lost loved ones.

And I know we're not the only ones. My heart is with everyone trying to cope with this strange, awful situation. I'm terrified for my family and loved ones in Nebraska, where there is no stay at home order, and the numbers are starting to accelerate. But this virus is hitting New Orleans differently. We're losing our culture bearers to this awful disease. The ones who create the music, the life that everyone loves so much.

Our most vulnerable populations are being hit hard. And while I could go on a rant about the incompetence of this federal administration (and believe me, I have), please realize that we can't go back to the old normal when this is through.

Things have to change--socially and politically--if we want to insure that something like this doesn't happen again.

We will get through this. Stay safe. Stay home.

I love you.

From Jazz Fest 2019, when life was normal

We Need to Talk

 Dear fellow white people, 

Charlottesville is on us. All of us. We all have allowed racist sentiment to fester around us and emboldened the fascist, Nazi, and white supremacists who converged yesterday on the University of Virginia. This is the result of our silence.

Before you say, "Not me. I'm not racist. I've condemned what they're doing. I speak out against such things," I ask you to think of this: How many times have you let racist or bigoted comments from family, friends, and coworkers slide? Maybe you didn't feel like getting in an argument. Maybe you were worried about alienating someone. Maybe you didn't think that they were "serious;" that they were really joking.

Every time you, and I, let those comments slide, we fed into the nationalist hatred that we saw plastered on the media over the past 72 hours.

Every time we decided that our discomfort wasn't worth standing up for people of color and other marginalized groups, we fed it.

People of color have lived with this hate for centuries.

White people, on the other hand, have that luxury of deciding when and where to engage with these people. We are protected by the privilege of our white skin--we are unlikely to ever be on the receiving end of such hatred.

But if we truly believe what we espouse, we can't stay silent. It isn't the job of the black community and others to combat racism--it's ours, because it's our communities that are perpetuating it. These white supremacists aren't hiding under sheets anymore. And let's be honest: They never really were. They're not just in the South; they're not just in backwoods small towns. They're sitting next to us at work. They're worshipping in our churches. They're policing our streets, making our laws, sitting next to us at the dinner table.

It's time we stopped letting them be comfortable in their bigotry.

It's time we stood up for all Americans, not just those who look like us.

It's time we step out of the shadows and actively work to stop this cancer in our society.

We have to speak out. We may lose friends. Coworkers may stop socializing with us. Family members may stop speaking to us. It's not going to be easy. But it's time we stepped up and really started taking ownership for the disgusting hatred being displayed around us. And we need to do it now.

It's OUR responsibility.

Rabbit Hole #65: Hi! Remember Me? A Reading Update

Yeah. . . it's been a while. Five months. Gulp. Let's just ignore that little hiatus, shall we?

2017 Read Harder Challenge Update

A book about sports: Tales from the New Orleans Saints Sideline by Jeff Duncan

A debut novel: Bright Lines by Tanwi Nadini Islam

A book about books: A World Between Two Covers by Ann Morgan

A book by an immigrant or with a central immigration narrative: The Love Wife by Gish Jen

An all-ages comic: Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur by Amy Reeder

A travel memoir: Alibis--Essays on Elsewhere by André Aciman

A book you've read before: The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery; trans. from the French by Alison Anderson 

A book that is set within 100 miles of your location: The Grandissimes by George Washington Cable

A book set more than 5000 miles from your location: Under the Udala Trees by Chinelo Okparanta

A book about war:  The Monuments Men by Robert M. Edsel and Bret Witter

A YA or middle grade novel by an author who identifies as LGBTQ+: Ash by Malinda Lo

A book that has been banned or frequently challenged: Grendel by John Gardner

A classic by an author of color: Quicksand by Nella Larsen

A superhero comic with a female lead: Ms. Marvel, Vol. 4 by G. Willow Wilson

A book in which a character of color goes on a spiritual journey: Boxers and Saints by Gene Luen Yang (both books)

A collection of stories by a woman: Operation Monsoon by Shona Ramaya

A collection of poetry in translation on a theme other than love: Rilke Shake by Angelica Freitas; trans. from the Portuguese by Hilary Kaplan 

A book wherein all point-of-view characters are people of color: Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi


I'm currently reading The Bone Clocks by David Mitchell for the fantasy novel challenge, so that leaves the following (books chosen and on my shelf!):

A nonfiction book about technology: Hidden Figures by Margot Lee Shetterly

A book set in Central or South America by a Central or South American author: I, Rigoberta Menchu by Rigoberta Menchu

A book published between 1900-1950:  Mules and Men by Zora Neale Hurston

An LGBTQ+ romance novel: The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. LeGuin

A book published by a micropress: ??? (Anybody have any ideas? Anyone?)

That's 18/24 completed with five months left. Think I've got this. 

Rabbit Hole #64: In/Out January and February

Yeah. . . so about that regular schedule.

 

I'll keep trying to be better about that. 

Here's just a quick run-down of what I've been reading since I last popped in here: 

Black Chalk by Christopher Yates (3 stars): a psychological thriller that had a lot of promise, but fell a little flat for me. There were just some plot holes that needed to be fleshed out a little bit more. 

Alibis: Essays on Elsewhere by André Aciman (4 stars): I am a sucker for travel memoirs. The downside--I start looking for travel packages. 

Boxers and Saints by Gene Luen Yang (4 stars for both): These two graphic novels are centered around the Boxer Rebellion in China. It does a good job of showing the two sides of the conflict, reminding us that there's always more than one story to be told. 

The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde (3.5 stars): I've been wanting to read more Wilde, and this was a quick, easy read. I think the satire comes across better in the viewing of the play rather than the reading of it, though. 

Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis by Anne Rice (4 stars): My comfort reads. Definitely not my favorite book of hers--it got a little bogged down trying to introduce an alien species and the lost city of Atlantis into the vampire world, but it was fun. 

The Heart Goes Last by Margaret Atwood (3.5 stars): Live for six months in a prison and the other six in a gated community with your every need taken care of--for the people in this post-apocalyptic/post-economic crash society, it sounds like a pretty good deal. Maybe too good. Like the Rice book, this isn't my favorite of Atwood's, but it definitely is a good satire on our society. 

Glass Sword and King's Cage by Victoria Aveyard (3 stars for both): YA fantasy dystopia. Nothing fancy, just quick, easy, fun reads. 

The Crack-up by F. Scott Fitzgerald (3.5 stars): I FINALLY finished this. I have been dipping in and out of this book since 2015. This is an odd collection: it starts with Fitzgerald's memoir/essays "The Crack-up", then goes into about 150 pages from his writing notebooks, then finishes with letters to/from Fitzgerald, as well as obituaries. I enjoyed all of it, but the format just made it a slow read. 

Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi (4.5 stars): This is the best fiction book I've read so far this year, hands-down; the only reason it isn't a 5 star read is that I just wanted more. The story follows the descendants of two sisters, one sold into slavery, the other married to a slave trader, and the repercussions that reverberate through the centuries. 

Currently, I'm reading The Monuments Men by Robert M. Edsel and Bret Witter and Bright Lines by Tanwi Nadini Islam. Hopefully I will give you an update soon!

To My Sisters Everywhere, Part 2

You came from all over, from large towns and small, from coastal cities and the Heartland. You paid your way, organized buses, made signs. You were black, white, latinx, gay, straight, cis, trans, immigrant, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, atheist, old, young, rich, poor, and everything in between. You swarmed our nation's capital and were the heart of the largest protest in United States history.

And if you couldn't make it? You created your own marches: New Orleans, Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, Boise, Anchorage, Omaha, St. Louis, Little Rock, Sioux Falls, London, Paris, and so, so many more cities around the world, large and small, made their voices heard. The latest numbers have put the worldwide totals at around 4 million participants.

In the words of Janelle Monae, we won't be hidden anymore. Those in power MUST be held accountable; they cannot be allowed to destroy decades of hard-earned progress. There's too much at stake: health care, education, climate change, LGBTQ+ rights, free speech, our national parks. The list goes on and on.

So thank you to everyone who spoke out, whether you could attend a march in person or if you had to participate vicariously. Thank you to the allies who came out to lend their support to our struggle.

But especially, thank you to my sisters of color: you have been the unacknowledged backbone of resistance movements from the beginning. You have literally put your hearts, minds, and bodies at risk so many times for all of us; yet as a whole, we white women have let you down time and time again. We have not stood by you as we should, and the debt of gratitude we owe you is immense. I only hope that what started yesterday is a seed change toward intersectionality in all of the issues that affect us.

Don't let this be the end. As I said a few days after the election: Read. Learn. Listen. Make art. Consume art. Organize. Protest. Volunteer. Donate. Refuse to back down. Keep fighting.

Rabbit Hole #63: In/Out Jan. 1-7

Happy New Year, everyone! Hope the first week has been treating you well. Sorry this is a day late; it wouldn't be a free weekend without me getting sick. My hope is to get back on a regular schedule with these; if not every week, every two for sure.

Recently Purchased

Black Chalk by Christopher Yates

Just one this week (after the Christmas spree last week, I think that's plenty!). This is the January choice for my book club, and I have no idea what it's about. Should be interesting!

Recently Completed

What Moves at the Margins by Toni Morrison (4.5 stars)

I honestly don't know what to say. This was an amazing collection of Morrison's nonfiction work, from book reviews to her Nobel Prize acceptance speech. It was the essays on race and gender that were especially hard-hitting though--I often had to look at the date of each piece several times, because they are so relevant to our world right now. Sadly, those pieces were written 20-30 years ago in most cases, showing just how far we still have to go. The only reason I didn't give this five stars is because I wanted more--more of her words and her wisdom.

Currently Reading

Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis by Anne Rice

Only about a hundred pages in, and we've already added the mystical realm of Atlantis and some type of extra-terrestrial immortal beings to the already crowded world of vampires, witches, ghosts, and spirits. I'm perfectly okay with that though; Rice's books have always been comfort food for me. They're the type of books I can just sink into and forget about the chaos around me. Looking forward to seeing where she's going to take me. 

Alibis: Essays on Elsewhere by André Aciman

I have really grown to love essay collections over the past few years, and this one ticks all the boxes: travel, memory, art. So far, an enjoyable read.