Difficult Discussions
Growing up I was frequently told I made a big deal out of, well just about everything. I couldn't "take a joke". I was prone to being "too serious" and needed to "lighten up".
I eventually learned, through my Mother's training, to laugh when I didn't find a situation or joke funny. I leaned to bite back many of the questions or concerns. To hide my judgement in hopes that I'd fit in better.
She would tell you I never would back down on many topics. I'm as "stubborn as a mule" and don't respect my elders because I "always have to be right". I'm a know-it-all who thinks I'm better than everyone else.
I had a conversation with a friend tonight in which I called them on invalid information (COVID spike is due to Memorial Day ignorant behavior, not protesters) and on some racist language they used.
It was exhausting and not fun at all. I don't feel a sense of satisfaction and moral superiority, contrary to what my Mother believed. I feel sad, very sad.
I ranted about it to process, but mostly to remember things about three conversation I want to remember and write more about when I have the mental bandwidth. There was so much white fragility in the conversation. So much to unpack about what people think when you talk about a racist.
They envision a dude in a white hood or wearing a swastika or even the conferderate flag. They don't picture my Mother complaining about "lazy Mexicans" (she said "Mexican" for any Latinx person). That's a problem.
Cupcakes for Victory
I'm always behind the cool kids. It takes me ages, usually, to decide to follow a trend. Baking while sheltering on place is over of those tends. Today I made cupcakes.
They're not awesome, it wasn't a recipe I'd made several times before CK discovered she's gluten intolerant, so I can't really account for how the change of flour affected it. I'm trying another more familiar recipe later this week or next. My buttercream really did not come out well.
More students asked if I'd facilitate a discussion about the yoga of social justice. It honestly is so far out of my comfort zone, really into discomfort around correcting women my Mother's age. At the same time I recognize I'm being asked because I'm trusted.
It also is a powerful act I can take as a white woman to help educate older adults about dismantling racism. It's begging a better ally if I can be in this discomfort.
Eating and Other Irritations
Lunch defeated me today.
I felt like a failure. I made a lunch for CK, but she couldn't really eat it. Today that felt like I'd dropped the ball of the I've thing I was getting right.
I kept reminding myself, and her, that it wasn't really about the lunch. It was about the pandemic and the protests and the lack of accountability of the police and the Mayor of Portland who's on the side of Money instead of the City and the People.
I wanted to bake cupcakes, testing the gluten free version of the cupcakes I made for CK on the first of her birthdays we spent together. Instead I got so nauseous that I couldn't eat and we played a game until I felt better.
A decent day overall, but I feel exhausted and all I want to do is curl up and read all day and nap.
Freedom as a Practice
I shared a quote from Angela Davis' book Freedom is a Constant Struggle today, party of a project I started the first to highlight the voice of a Black artist, activist, etc. In some posts I'm sharing a familiar person with a less familiar quote. I'm slowly growing a list of resources as well to share with students.
I often remind students and myself there's a reason we call what we do with yoga a practice. It's what we're always doing, there's no end point, there's only the doing. It's why the first word of the Yoga Sutras is "now".
Eradicating racism, staying healthy in a COVID world, these aren't tasks we check if they list and move on. They're a practice we all need to take on, together. We must keep doing them.
It's this willingness to keep doing hard work for the good of others, indefinitely, that's they problem. How do you teach this to someone who doesn't agree that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?
Growth Opportunity
I find myself in the role of helping white Boomer women understand they cannot help but be racist sometimes. We are steeped in hundreds of years of it, living in a country built in it. Oregon itself was founded as a white paradise with laws in place prohibiting Black people from settling here.
I find it a little astonishing to be here. Teaching my Mother's peers how to be better than she was willing to be. Six years ago I'd never have imagined this.
Grateful my back isn't hurting as much today. I took a nap when I realized that I was feeling down on myself and worthless, plus unable to even concentrate on a video game!
Grocery shopping manages to be tedious still, trying to get what you want all in over go is nearly impossible. Learning to make do and be creative anchor meals now and more.
When
I shared a question posed by James Baldwin in 1989, "You always told me ‘It takes time.’ It’s taken my father’s time, my mother’s time, my uncle’s time, my brothers’ and my sisters’ time. How much time do you want for your progress?"
And people ask why the protests are angry.
My back pain has been high the past two days. I called my PT and made an appointment. There's a list of pandemic protocols to follow, not surprising at all.
My pain slowing me down didn't help with my mood. I get so frustrated by being unable to get more done. Feeling like I'm getting caught up on the house helped me with the anxiety about everything.
Telling
I went to the dentist and he cleaned my teeth toast and I didn't cry before, during, or after!
I got to practice telling a new care provider at the practice how my anxiety is heightened at the dentist due to intersection of multiple traumas. She was awesome about it and so was my young, less experienced dentist. Again.
It will never be easy revealing trauma history. I am learning that sharing it can be helpful. I'm really touched at the consistent patience I'm down. I never am made to feel like I'm overreacting.
Over 1000 people lay down on the Burnside Bridge this evening. I gave advice to a protestor on using a neti pot to help recovery from tear gas. Students asked me to facilitate a discussion on, essentially, how to be better white people.
What Next
The President all but declared martial law today. Peaceful protestors demanding justice, prayer groups, families, meet with tear gas and rubber bullets. Republicans are inciting violence against protesters.
Another unarmed Black man was killed in Louisville in the early hours of the morning. The National Guard fired on people breaking curfew. David McAtee was feeding people when he was killed.
I was feeling so wound up after doing some yoga therapy for CK that I just wasn’t feeling settled. I let myself sit and play my video game for a little while, Puck on my lap, until I feel tired.
We’re struggling with wanting to eat. I feel hungry now, past midnight, and I haven’t all day. CK is really finding it harder than usual. I’m learning to be creative with leftovers and frozen veggies. We still haven’t eaten out since March.
There’s still the pandemic, so we’re still isolating. Planning a third online art class for Saturday.
A friend’s roses are today’s photo. My goodness nature is so beautiful, it hurts in contrast to the racism.
One Hundred Thousand and Counting
Today the Memorial Day reporting lull came to an end and the CDC officially reports 100,446 dead in the USA due to COVID19.
There have been yet more black people killed by police. I feel like there’s a new death almost daily from police violence.
Minneapolis is on fire in places, particularly Precinct 3 where the four officers involved with the killing were based at. A white police man knelt on the neck of a black man who then died, George Floyd was his name.
Tonight we wondered together of all summer there will be escalating riots, on both sides. I know where the police will stand, on the side of the right wing demanding to be served again, and it’s sickening.
I don’t even know how to hold it all.
I watered the plants. I recorded a video to send out Sunday. I feed us again.
I made art with George Floyd’s name and this terrible number. I ordered groceries to sustain two households. I rubbed CK’s feet to help her sleep, we’re both feeling very anxious. In the morning I’ll teach yoga.