Hellooo friends!
I know I promised an essay each month, but would you be disappointed if I gifted you with spoken word instead? I wrote this piece last month after an elder on my street was caught in the crossfire of gun violence.
I shared a few written words about a more recent shooting in our neighborhood on IG here, and am learning how to write these stories in ways that highlight the violence of whiteness over and above stereotypes about my neighbors/neighborhood. I do it imperfectly but am writing towards what I experience to be true by way of listening to my neighbors.
May their voices be amplified.
Book Recs
My friend Sara Stockinger recommended We Will Not Cancel Us: And Other Dreams of Transformative Justice by adrienne maree brown after a series of Voxer messages in which we attempted to figure out how to "get" radicalized white folks. brown interrogates cancel/call-out culture and points us to the questions, "What is ‘too far’ when you're talking about imbalances of power and patterns of harm? And what happens when people in social movements direct our righteous anger inward at one another?" As a movement mediator, brown's audience is those in social justice movement spaces but the questions explored apply to anyone interested in accountability and moving towards a world we want to live in.
These teachers also helped me see the limitations of restorative justice—that it often meant restoring conditions that were fundamentally harmful and unequal, unjust. If the racialized system of capitalism has produced such inequality that someone is hungry and steals a purse to resource a meal, returning the purse with an apology or community service does nothing to address that hunger. These teachers brought me to transformative justice, the work of addressing harm at the root, outside the mechanisms of the state, so that we can grow into right relationship with each other.
Awakened by Death: Life-Giving Lessons From the Mystics by Christiana N. Peterson is a book I never would have read had I not won a copy on the internets for no reason other than the topic of death makes my chest tighten and palms sweaty. It sat on my dresser drawer-turned-bedside table for weeks before—at the pressing of my spiritual director and a lump in my boob—I picked it up. Peterson takes readers on a surprising journey, looking at death from different historical and cultural lenses, calling on us to look it squarely in the eye.
For all my talk, I am still a product of a culture that suppresses grief, that tells me I shouldn't be sad. My culture slides its corpses up into cold metal refrigerator trays; it pumps its dead full of toxic chemicals that not only harm morticians but seep into the soil and harm the earth.
My culture is afraid of death and the decaying body. And I am too.
I bought Mary Karr's The Art of Memoir a few years ago when I begrudgingly thought I would be writing a memoir. I made it a few chapters in before putting it down, sure I was too young/memory-challenged/fact-dedicated for the art of memoir. I picked it up again last month after writing a handful of stories tucked away for nearly a decade that felt... memoir-ish. I'm not convinced they will become a memoir (although I no longer fit the self-imposed "too young" category), but Karr's book made me a better storyteller nonetheless.
In some ways, writing a memoir is knocking yourself out with your won fists, if it's done right.
I heard Mirabai Starr on a podcast a few months ago and immediately requested Wild Mercy: Living the Fierce and Tender Wisdom of the Women Mystics from the library. I’m so glad I no longer view other faith traditions as worthless or dangerous. I would’ve missed out on the wisdom within these pages. (And so many people.)
You long ago relinquished your need for cosmic order and personal control. You welcome unknowingness.
Which is why seemingly ordinary moments like moonrises and lovemaking undo you. The veil has been pulled back. Everything feels inexhaustibly holy. This is not what they taught you in the church of your childhood. Your soul has been formed in the forge of life's losses, galvanized in the crucible of community, fertilized by the rain of relationship, blessed by your intimacy with Mother Earth. You have glimpsed the face of the Divine where you least expected it.
Pod Recs
I mentioned my interview with Brandi Miller of Reclaiming My Theology last month and she’s back in my recs again because the latest season of her podcast is “Reclaiming My Theology from White Supremacy” and every episode is a must listen.
Iris Chen is on this episode of the Sage Family Podcast talking about her new book, Untigering, and I highly recommend it!
I’ve linked arms with some local organizers/activists to ensure our police stop killing people and therefore re-listened to this five-part series from Campaign Zero, The Untold Story: Policing. It is hugely important.
Last month several of you responded with your thoughts and resources on radicalized white folks and I SO appreciated your wisdom. You can also hit the little speech bubble below to comment and share your goods with everyone reading! As always, thanks for being here.
Well, I think "stray vegetables" might have been my favorite line... :) But seriously this image of stray bullets and dogs and finding a home... so compelling.