Thankful Thursday: regained health

I’ve been scarce around these parts for the last several weeks as I recovered from covid. It was the first time I’d tested positive and today I’m grateful to feel (mostly) like myself again. Ever since the start of the pandemic, we’ve masked indoors which is a huge factor in why it took so long for SARS‑CoV‑2 to get me. And there’s a very good chance I know the source of my infection: Zippy.**

As shared at the time, on May 13 we were abruptly faced with saying goodbye to our beautiful Marcel, so when Zippy felt off that night we thought it was just a grief/stress-induced response in his body. Deep in our mourning, we didn’t even think to test or isolate. Then late at night on Friday the 15th, I suddenly had a sore throat. Finally, I thought to test. Positive.

Spoiler alert: the experience was no fun. Fortunately, we have good friends who brought us meals and medicine, flowers and notes, along with offers to help in any way we needed. It was Zippy’s second covid experience and he recovered more quickly (in part because he took a full course of Paxlovid while I only made it halfway through before having an allergic reaction that forced me to stop the treatment). I mostly did a good job resting my brain by staying off screens, but being a community organizer meant there were a few items I needed/wanted to tend to, which I did, as quickly as possible. “Quickly” is a relative term, though, when you’re infected with a virus that invades every single system in your body. No lie, I actually felt my brain getting hotter as I struggled to wrangle a few words for a short call-to-action. I’d already been turning down other organizers’ requests for help and that hot-brain sensation reinforced that decision.

Fortunately, reading books didn’t bother me and I embraced my down time by sitting on the patio, upper body in the umbrella shade and legs in the warm sunshine. I gave up reading the anger-inducing Blue Power: How Police Organized to Protect and Serve Themselves, and instead read a bunch of children’s books written in verse (non of which were especially good, in my opinion, so shall remain anonymous). I also read Rabbit Factory (which was my least favorite Larry Brown book, but since he’s dead I can say that without hurting any feelings) and David Grann’s The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny, and Murder which was an incredible and horrifying “adventure” that never needed to happen and only did happen because humans are exceedingly greedy and violent.

I also took my camera out on the patio (just that one time, though, as it made my head hurt) and photographed some of the flora and fauna.

 

I also poorly photographed a black-tailed deer walking through the trees and shrubs about 15 feet from where I sat which you’ll have to imagine yourself. I’m currently kinda grumpy about the neighborhood ungulates because despite there being a  forest right up the street, they prefer chomping flower blooms plus the zinnia starts I’d planted (the only thing I’ve planted since moving here). So, I’m in no mood to showcase deer right now. (Although I did try to photograph two new-new fawns while taking a walk the other day because they were so tiny and cute and not-yet-destroying gardens.)

Well, my eyes are tired now from this screen time so I’ll stop here, grateful to be upright and taking part in the world beyond my patio. I do hope you’re doing well. 🌻

** my guess is he got it while at the dentist on Monday of that week but we also briefly did some political work that evening in a non-ventilated room with a dozen unmasked people which means we could have gotten it at the same time and Zippy’s infection incubated faster.

 

Sunday Confessional: leaning hard on my brother-in-law

Today would’ve been my brother-in-law’s 73rd birthday and I’ve been thinking about and missing him an awful lot. As his sister said to me in our text exchange earlier, “He was the easiest person.” It’s true. As I wrote here, Bob was always my refuge. He accepted me for who and what I was, no judgments attached.  I wasn’t special, though, because Bob was easy with everyone. That’s not to say he was a pushover. Bob fought hard his entire life for the most vulnerable among us. The thing about being in the struggle is that we win some and also lose battles along the way.

I know this and yet earlier today felt myself descending to a dark place. I’ve been collaborating with folks in my community to advocate for the unhoused who are being threatened with new policies that would further criminalize them for the “crime” of having to sleep outside, and today received a response to emails I’d sent city council this week. This particular member outlined policy proposals they plan to introduce at the next council meeting and those policies contained zero glimmers of our shared humanity, and instead focused on proposals to protect property and “public safety.”

I felt so deflated. And when soon after that I learned our local Planned Parenthood was shutting down next week, I wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend none of this stuff was happening.

Then Bob popped into my head (again). Bob didn’t give up. As was highlighted over and over at his memorial, Bob never turned cynical or stopped hoping and believing in a better world.

Apparently, he showed up in these glasses!

Today I am honoring Bob by refusing to give up on the struggle for a better world. Happy Birthday, brother. (P.S. Bob, please forgive me for posting this photo your sister shared with me today as I couldn’t resist documenting your goofiness!)

Victory isn’t found in military power

These difficult days have gotten more challenging in the face of this rogue administration bombing Caracas, Venezuela, followed by the tepid response from spineless Democrats who can’t seem to be bothered about the murder of 40 people along with the kidnapping of Maduro and his wife. The entire situation is both shocking and also not at all surprising, and I’m sure I’m not alone in my feelings of overwhelm.

So I want to share something that resonated with me, an excerpt from a newly published book edited by Kelly Hayes, an author, organizer, and movement educator in Chicago.  (Search “kelly hayes” on my site and you’ll find references to her Movement Memos podcast and her newsletter “Organizing My Thoughts,” both highly recommended.)

The book is called Read This When Things Fall Apart: Letters to Activists in Crisis and the chapter I want to highlight is Read This If You Are Heartbroken by activist Ashon Crawley. In light of the chest-thumping bravado on display after the imperialist assault on the people and resources of Venezuela, Crawley’s words hit extra hard [emphasis mine].

In the religious tradition in which I grew up, we often sang songs about our collective capacity to “have the victory.” Songs about overcoming difficulty and struggle and obstacles. It was not always easy to detect, how we would attain victory, but we had faith in something bigger and larger and more intense and vital than our individual selves. For me, it was (and still is) a model for how to demand justice. So I encourage you, too, to know that we will have the victory–because we already have it. Victory is not found in the capacity to wreak havoc on others, on the earth, on the water supply. Victory is not contained in the ability to coerce movement from north to south, displacement from east to west, or forced migration from communities of care and concern. Victory isn’t found in military power and nuclear weapons. That kind of power is evidence of a brokenness that does not cherish the earth and its creatures as worth tending to, as worthy of care.

I’m never interested in “victory” that holds a complete disregard for people and planet, the very type of victory the fascists are crowing about this weekend. Instead, I subscribe to Crawley’s sense of victory. He goes on to write:

We have the victory because we organize and fight for life until–and even beyond–the last breath. We have victory because we find one another in chaos. We have the victory because we give and share and care and love and create friendship against imperialism, colonization, and active attempts to erase our lives, our stories. We have the victory because we understand the only world worth living in is one in which all of us can thrive. There is a profound humility to organizing, knowing that what we do and how we act may not have any appreciable impact in our lifetimes. But like water that cuts rock, it takes steady and consistent practice. And I know we can make it because you are doing that steady and consistent practice; you are modeling for us what it means to engage in struggle with integrity, with heart, with love. 

I appreciate your bravery, and your courage. We need you, as the famous gospel song says, to survive.

With heart and hope and love,
Ashon

For anyone reading this and thinking “but I’m not an organizer,” think about the times you’ve checked in on your elderly neighbor or the new family down the street, the times you’ve given an unhoused person food or money. The times you’ve made calls and sent emails on behalf of vulnerable communities, or volunteered in your community at the food bank or creek clean-up, or maybe helped paint a mural. Those are all acts on behalf of your community, acts that required organizing your time and energy in concert with others. In doing so, you are working for the collective good.

Please know I appreciate you and thank you for your heart. Solidarity.

Call to Action: April 19th

Hello, friends. I just had a change of heart regarding tomorrow’s Day of Action and want to share some thoughts. Zippy and I attended our local Hands Off! action on April 5th but because there was no clear “call to action” or visible (to me) organizing happening around it, I told Zippy I didn’t feel compelled to join future protests.

 

I’ve changed my mind and have journalist Laura Jedeed to thank because when I popped into Bluesky, this was at the top of my feed:

I felt called-out. I also knew in my gut that Laura was correct. And that feeling was cemented after reading her entire thread which also points out that optics do matter and how it’s imperative crowd sizes are even larger tomorrow than on the 5th in order to present a visual refutation of Trump’s so-called mandate.  (Go here to read a more fleshed-out version of Laura’s points via her newsletter.) Also? There was nothing stopping me on April 5th from doing some organizing of my own and it’s totally on me that I didn’t come prepared. Tomorrow, I will be prepared!

I’ll have the #TeslaTakedown flyers I didn’t think to bring on April 5th. (By the way, this campaign is having a huge impact and creating real pain for Nazi DOGE-bro Elon Musk: Tesla dealerships are no longer accepting Cybertruck trade-ins)

I’ll have Know Your Rights  With ICE flyers. From the Washington Immigrant Solidarity Network (WAISN) site: These flyers explain what to do if Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) or Customs and Border Protection (CBP) comes to your door or you have an encounter with immigration officials, what to do if you witness immigration activity by ICE or CBP, and examples of judicial warrants and ICE warrants.

I’m also trying to figure out how to also insert a QR code to the pdf flyer that links to an upcoming online KNOW YOUR RIGHTS / RAPID RESPONSE TRAINING led by WAISN. Doing so is a challenge for this low-tech person, so please share if you have ideas!

Anyway, I hope you’ll consider joining an action near you tomorrow, Saturday April 19th. I’ll be there and promise there will be no eye rolling!

Solidarity! ✊🏾

You should have joy and pleasure

When reading this week’s newsletter “Organizing My Thoughts” from Kelly Hayes this morning, a quote jumped out at me. It came via the linked piece from Lewis Raven Wallace “The Right Wants Us to Submit to Nihilism. Here Is Where I’m Searching for Hope.”

“You should have joy and pleasure from being on the right side of history,” [ . . ], “not anguish and despair. Let the other people have that.”

My first yellow leaves of the season. Golden Gate Canyon State Park. August 30, 2024

Wallace continues with this:
Joy is not just icing on the cake or the purview of the privileged. It is an exercise in hope that has always been rigorously practiced by people facing impossible situations of oppression. Laughter, pleasure and small acts of connection are precisely where we find our power — and the soul fuel that makes it possible to go on.

Anyway, that sentiment helped me a lot today–helped me remember who and what I am–and I wanted to share in case it could help someone here. Let’s hold onto our shared humanity and refuse to let the horrors and ugliness turn us into shells of ourselves. Let’s rejoice in nature and each other, and laugh as much as possible.

The fear-based, mean-spirited people can keep all that ugly for themselves.

Barnraisers Project

This is last-minute, but I wanted to share this here. I’ve signed up with Barnraisers Project and thought maybe someone reading this might want to join in.

From  their site: “The Barnraisers Project coaches and trains white people to organize their friends, neighbors and colleagues for racial justice and the collective good. We’re nobody’s saviors, but we’re committed to doing our part to help build a better, more just world.”

Registration for the Winter/Spring Cohort closes tomorrow. Click here for information and participant commitments. In summary, there are five 90-minute virtual sessions, beginning the week of January 30th (so, one 90 minute class each on the weeks of January 30th, February 13th, February 27th, March 13th and March 27th).

Image by giografiche from Pixabay

There’s so much going wrong in the world (I just read that North Dakota is considering legislation that would imprison librarians up to 30 days if they don’t remove certain books from their libraries!) and it’s truly an all-hands-on-deck moment. I hope you can join the effort. Solidarity!