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Footnotes

Now That We're Here

Dear Hearts,

Im sorry it's been so long since I have graced your inbox. The reason for my absence is I lost one of my best friends in the world- my daddy. For weeks I've felt like I've just been treading water, trying to keep my head above the waves. But slowly, I am feeling my feet on the sand at the bottom of the ocean. That sand is shifting all the time, and I get knocked off balance pretty easily. But when I do feel steady, I'm finding that I still want to be in conversation with you. I still feel compelled to write. And I think following this instinct for as along as I have it will make my daddy proud. So I cannot promise you consistency just yet, but I promise that whenever I am here; it's on purpose and with the intention of connecting with you.

Okay! Let's get into it.

I have been thinking a lot about the state of America's democracy and the many articles Ive seen trying to parse out Black women's responses. Ive seen articles on our commitment to rest. Ive seen articles on our desire to keep brunching while those who believe in whiteness clean up their own mess. Ive seen articles about us sitting back, about our absence from protests, etc... all trying to get into our collective mind. And I certainly think all of these things are at play for various Black women- some more than others.

But there is something else Ive been trying to name within myself. Even as I write this we are in a full blown constitutional crisis- the President ignoring the commands of the courts. Military personnel seem unable to keep plans out of group chats. People of color who have a right to be in the US are being snatched away, disappeared. Palestinians are still suffering under bombs paid with our tax dollars while our President talks about colonizing the Gaza Strip for real estate ventures. Tarriffs are having a huge impact on the economy. The civil rights of all kinds of marginalized people are being dismantled- trans health care, Black folks voting, women's reproductive rights... it's all being attacked brazenly. And even those of us who can afford eggs cant find any.

It's a lot.

So why did I turn off the news and decide to go see Sinners? What is it within me that feels the need to renew my skin care routine? Why am I less interested in responding quickly to political upheaval? Why have I almost stopped using social media except to connect to people- to leave comments, to cheer folks on, to say Im thinking about you. Why do I keep begging Meta for a "delete all" button so I can cut my follower count in half? What is happening in my mind, in my body?

Some of this is no doubt a response to the grief I am experiencing. But it isnt only that because some of these feelings I was having before my dad became sick. So what was happening then that has become solidified over time?

Now I warn you that the metaphor I am about to use might feel condescending or offensive, but I ask that you stick with me.

My little boy is soon going to be eight years old. He is very independent and cannot wait to grow up. And part of my job as a mom is to let him try things and learn from them. But I always give him a warning first. "Baby, I know you are expecting abc to happen, but just know xyz may be the result instead." I give advice. I let him try. And often, I am right.

But I am not right because my baby is childish... I am not calling anyone childish. I am right because I've been around longer. I've seen this before. I've done this before. I know what he's up against. I know how I had to figure it out.

And this feels like the metaphor that makes the most sense in my body right now. It feels like the only folks who are just now panicking, just now connecting the dots, just now realizing how bad it can be... are the ones who have not been here before.

You see, for most people who believe in whiteness- democracy, the constitution, the will of state power has been wielded to protect them. But for Black folks, for Black women, all we know is a broken democracy and a constitutional failure. We haven't just been here before, we live here.

And we warned everyone. We wrote. We preached. We created art. We led protests. We offered examples. We shared our knowledge and our stories. We rang the alarm and those who consider themselves to be liberal called us alarmists. We were told we were being dramatic. We were told to tone it down. We were told it couldnt get this bad. We were "schooled" on checks and balances. We were dismissed.

Those who consider themselves to be conservative had a primary response which was, "As long as the bad things only happen to you, we'll still sign off. You are an acceptable price to pay for our own pursuit of happiness." Ultimately conservatives didnt believe us either- they wanted to believe that the violence would never come to their doorstep. But power only needed their permission in order to set a precedent to take everyone's everything.

And now we are here... exactly where Black women said we would be. And it's hard to pretend to be shocked when we recognize all the forms of state violence and state power being enacted now. I do confess to being stunned by the lack of subtlety. I grew up when racism was "colorblind" and racist language was coded and politicians went through great lengths to keep their tactics a secret. Those days have gone. What was once done behind closed doors is now announced openly, "no more diversity. no more inclusion. no more equity or equality. We liked our discrimination the way it was. Thanks."

But we (Black folks) have been here before. We know how to move through the chaos because every generation of our families had to figure it out. We have had to figure it out. Whiteness is nothing if not a shape-shifter. It can move and change and shift its boundaries and change its language. It can widen or narrow for its own purposes. It can swallow you. But it doesnt have to.

And that's what Black folks know too. That's why I had to go see Sinners. That's why I want to renew my skin care routine. That's why I'm still cackling with my girlfriends over brunch. That's why I dont need to attend every protest. That's why Im not at every meeting. That's why I am not running around in a panic or writing headlines like "did anyone think T***p was actually going to do all of this?"

Because we have been here before, and we have learned how to live. How to fight and live. How to rest and live. How to slow down and live. Our to protest and live. How to be creative and live. How to care and live. We are not perfect at it. We are still learning and trying and balancing. We are calling each other and confessing to each other and wondering aloud with each other. We are not superhuman... we are all too aware of our human fragility. But we also know that we can make it; as a people we always do.

Overdue

Can a book that released in 2024 be considered a classic? I dont know what the gatekeepers would say, but Im going to go ahead and add this one to the list. For me, Jasmyn Ward carries that same "it" that Toni Morrison possessed. The same "it" that Zora possessed. The ability to wield the most poetic of language in order to bring us into the bodies of her characters and that communities to which they belong. This book is stunning, and I think folks will be reading it for a long, long time. ​ ​Purchase Here​

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Bookworm

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I recently finished this book, and smiled as I finished the last page. I love when I find a book with an ornery woman as the protagonist. In the sea of characters about grumpy old men, this book offers us what feels like a fresh breath of air- not because the character is charming but because she is not, and she knows it. I thoroughly enjoyed the antics in the office workplace, the secrets revealed, the holes that were dug deeper, and the ways they show up for one another despite the clear display of everyone's imperfections. So good. ​Purchase Here​

TBR

When certain authors write the words, "read this." you just shut up and listen. I have seen many people talking about this book, and one of them is Nikole Hannah Jones. On his social media page, the author Omar El Akkad offers us this quote from the book, "The moral component of history, is simply a single question, asked over and over again: when it mattered, who sided with justice and who sided with power? What makes moments such as this one so dangerous, so clarifying, is that one way or another everyone is forced to answer." ​ ​Purchase Here​

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*please be aware, this newsletter contains affiliate links to bookshop.org, which means I receive a small commission if you choose to make a purchase using the book links. I will be using said commission to feed my book addiction, offer you more reviews and around and around we go. The commission does not cost you anything, and I will always let you know if I received any of the books for free99.

Prose

Planning a book tour

Well, well, well... seven years after releasing Im Still Here, I am heading back out on a book tour for the August release of Full of Myself. I'm so glad to have finished writing this book, y'all. It is by far the most personal project I have ever done. And in just a matter of months, you'll be able to hold it in your hands. So I need some very important information from you- where do you live?! Send me cities (and bookstores that are well connected to the community) so I can narrow down my list. xoxo