Dear friends —
Somehow May has been a blur and a whirl. I’m teaching two writing classes and taking 2 classes, but somehow I am beginning to finally not know what day it is. I think it’s a combination of the laundry piling up and realizing that it is unlikely that I will be able to get down to Los Angeles in August. That things will continue like this for …. a (or more) year(s)? For some reason I’ve been thinking about the second season of LOST where that person lives in a container only to realize that um…. they can actually come out. I’ve also been thinking about something I wrote a long time ago: the beginning of a story about a post-apocalyptic university campus run by a BDSM system of governance (I know I know. NOT very original). The protagonist only gradually comes to suspect that the real world may still be out there and NOT working according to these academic principles. She finally goes off campus and makes her way to a 7-11 where things are as they should be… maybe.
That all by way of saying that things feel a teensy bit strange right now. But one thing that is happening still is political action. I’m writing postcards to folx in red states who have possibly been thrown off the voter rolls. I’m emailing and calling my representatives. I think it’s tempting to think that all isn’t happening…. but of course it is. Working with my local Indivisible to support the important work that my neighbors are doing to help folx in a homeless situation. The work goes on, especially if one is lucky enough — as I am — to have the leisure and means to do it.
And you never know where that work goes or who it touches. I recently learned that a classmate’s dad whom I thought was pretty cool, WAS extremely cool. A card-carrying anarchist, the first person I ever met who mentioned the idea of reparations to Black Americans. Years later, I am grateful for this early glimpse of a leftist view, that was able to penetrate the very white, very privileged, very Republican realm that I inhabited as a young person.