June 2020 – Life Off Headset

Saying Nothing or Saying Something

There has been a lot of talk lately about race in America. Or maybe that is just my left leaning NPR, NY Times, Atlantic Monthly media and social media diet. Also, completely randomly, Robin Diangelo’s book White Fragility came off my reserves list about the time Geroge Floyd was murdered. So I guess I have been spending a bit of time contemplating ideas of what is systemic racism in America today, and my part in it. And wondering if I have anything to say about it. And so I wrote a post about how I felt so very complicit in the current racial climate. How being a “model minority” allows me to reap the benefits of a system that has denied so much to people who aren’t white.

And then I had a conversation with a friend about the idea of White Fragility, and decided to write a different post.

It might have also started with me reading a thread on NextDoor where, in response to a post about speaking to White people about race, someone posted the following:

“I predict … that this thread will turn into another dumpster fire of sincere but mindless regurgitation of “White fragility”/systemic racism talking points from those on the left (with a fair bit and either self flagellation or self righteousness), and then maybe a few angry and exasperated voices from people on the right who will denounce everyone else as “woke” morons. Commenters will be deemed either racists or a idiots.”

And then a couple days later, I spent a morning talking to a good friend about the nature of trauma, and how it can be perpetuated in a way that is difficult to overcome. How trauma can have repercussive effects through generations. And I realized that all my self reflection about my role in systemic racial prejudice in this country is not helping anyone. That my own realization of how lucky I am as a person and as a parent, is a personal journey, not one to proselytize about.

I’ve taken to listening to some more conservative podcasts lately. Initially I was curious how those outside my leftist echo chamber were reacting to the murder of George Floyd and the subsequent protests and outrage. I wondered if something truly different was happening, or if this was just another incident in a news cycle fatigued by COVID reporting, an incident amplified by a country worn down by quarantine conditions. And I realized that there are large swaths of the country that do not see value in having a conversation about systematic prejudice and privilege in this country. Some deny it is even a thing. Some think that it obfuscates real issues. Most people really don’t like being told what to think. But one thing is that most people realize that there is a lot of hurt and division in our country. And perhaps that will never go away, and is just a fact of America.

So there’s that. And what to do from here? Or, rather, what do I want to do from here? For all the eye-opening nature of reading White Fragility and the discussion rampant these days about privilege, and how to raise children who are anti-racist, it still seems to me like a lot of jargon. I’ve never been one from protesting; large crowds of people make me very uncomfortable, regardless of whether or not there is a pandemic.

I read this essay by Obama, and it reinforced to me that the most meaningful impact is at the local level. I know the presidential election is the glamorous one, but the County and State level are where most of the real work is done. To that point, this work is not just political, but also economic and social. I think I would like to spend more time thinking about what that means. More action, less analysis. I’m kind of an overthinker, so this might be difficult for me. But I’m going to try.

Books Read in May 2020

Homework by Julie Andrews – 7h 57 m. Technically finished it in April.

Favorite Quote: “I spent so much of my early life trying to unify my need for home with my commitment to work. These days, I’ve come to realize that home is a feeling as much as it is a place; is is as much about loving what I do as being where I am.”

Truthfully, I preferred her first book, Home, to this one. The first book had more details about theatre life and her work. This one felt more like her datebook, regurgitated.

Unnatural Selection: Choosing boys over girls, and the consequences of a world full of men by Mara Hvistendahl – 9h, 53m. Hvistendahl writes about the deep seated mind set behind prenatal sex selection, and delves into the repercussions of unbalanced birth ratios. Her research focuses on the issue primarily in China and India, though I wished that she had spent more time unpacking the issue in America, especially in the world of fertility treatments. (She does have a chapter about it, but I wish it had been more in depth). As a pro-choice person, it is hard for me to condemn abortion, but there is something really disturbing about sex selection. One of the ironies Hvistendahl points out, is that there is so much pressure for sex selecting for males that even well-educated women do it; technological advances that allow for sex selection do not translate into advances in gender equality. The book touches on the idea of what value do we place on women, and how imparting value translates into objectifying them. When gender ratios are skewed towards men, traditional gender roles are even harder to break.

Memorable takeaway – comparing sex selection with another atrocity: “The most obvious problem with [Female Genital Mutilation] is that is constitutes a human rights abuse. But beginning in the 1990s activists managed to elevate the issue beyond the realm of injustice by arguing that it threatened women’s health.” That is to say health is an effective platform for change. Human rights is not.

The Great Believers by Rebecca Makkai – 11h 41m.

“Everyone knows how short life is… But no one ever talks about how long it is … Every life is too short even the long ones, but some people’s lives are too long as well… If we could just be on earth at the same place and the same time as everyone we loved, if we could be born together, it would be so simple. And it’s not. But liste: You tow are on the planet at the same time. You’re in the same place now. That is a miracle.” -Julian’s soapbox towards the end of the book.

This was a beautiful, beautiful book about love, memory, living, and the people in our orbit. I know it’s about the AIDS epidemic, but the passages about a mother trying to figure out how to be with her daughter, really struck a chord with me too. It was striking to be reading about AIDS while living through a global pandemic. There is the same sense of fear and the same list of medically recommended behavioral shifts. Indeed, I would get their epidemic and our current one mixed up in my head and then feel jarred when there were scenes with crowds of people. I very rarely cry when I read books, but with this one, I came pretty close. Life is too short not to move on. It’s also too long not to move on.

The Ensemble by Aja Gabel – 8h 20m.

“Henry didn’t think Jana was a mean person; he thought she was a good person, with a meanness problem.”

It took me a bit to get into this novel which follows the members of a string quartet from when they are first founded to when they break up, many years later. I felt some of the parts about music were overwritten, but then again, very rarely do I like reading descriptive passages of music; it makes me realize how very personal one’s reaction to music is. Also none of the characters were very sympathetic in the beginning. But 20 somethings rarely are in literature. The got better as they aged.

Twenty-One Truths about Love by Matthew Dicks – 3h 29m.

“Given my advantages, nothing I do will ever be as amazing as an octopus opening a child-proof bottle.”

Pithy, breezy, a fun, fast read. This books was told as a series of lists. I always like books with non-traditional narrative structures.

Book of Dust: La Belle Sauvage by Phillip Pullman – Audio book, narrated by Michael Sheen. I

I listened to this as I sewed masks for a church project and I found myself staying up late to sew so that I could keep listening. It was gripping, and Malcolm and Alice were such real, brave characters. I find Pullman’s books make good audiobooks for me because there is a lot of plot, despite it’s big ideas. Spoiler alert: I’ve never been so sad by the destruction of an inanimate object.

The “I Voted” Sticker

Today is the Maryland Primary. It was originally slated for April 28th, but because of COVID, the state moved the election to June 2nd, and made it a “vote by mail” election. I deeply appreciate that the ballots were automatically mailed to registered voters so that I didn’t have to even request one. Voting should be as easy as it is important.

As I’ve watched the Democratic Primary process, with candidates dropping one by one, I came to feel that voting in the primary was going to be a wash. But then I looked at the ballot and reminded myself that there is more than just national politics. There were some local level elections as well. Also, to be honest, I am still somewhat confused by the process of electing delegates to the national convention. I tried to read up on that, but it seems a convoluted system and requires an advanced degree in statistics and probability.

Growing up, my parents often took me to the polls on election day. Now, since my children have been around, they come with me to the polls too. I want them to see how simple, yet important the process is. I want them to see that a lot of people do it, and realize that everyone should do it. This year, we didn’t have a polling place to go to — well, technically there are polling places open, but Maryland has set things up so that you don’t have to use them. Instead, we all walked to the mailbox down the street and dropped the completed ballot in the mail.

There was no election worker to smile and check my ID. And there was no one to hand us our “I Voted” sticker at the end. So after we came home, we made our own sticker.

Afterwards, I sent to it several of our elected officials, with a note asking them to please remind their constituents to vote. I’ve never written to my elected officials before, and I was a little nervous – I mean, I’m sure they get a lot of mail, and this seemed frivolous. But I thought that no one is handing out “I voted” stickers this year, and I wanted to see if I could get ours out into the world. I’ve always loved seeing the wide array of “I Voted” stickers that come across my social media feeds on election day, and this was my tiny way of trying to replicate that.

There is a lot going on in America right now. Certainly the outrage and civil unrest is compounded by a nation of people housebound and living under government mandated constraints for two months. I think that we are feeling particularly helpless and at a loss as to how we can make this country a more equitable, compassionate place. I’m at a loss too. I worry about not knowing what constitutes effective change and what is just lip service, albeit sincere lip service. I worry that I can’t perceive current events as relevant to me, when I know they are. I don’t want to read more media to try to sort this out for myself, so I think I need to delve into some more longform writings on race, class, and privilege. In the meantime, I voted.