“I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change” — Angela Davis
The protests have been right at my doorstep. I live off Flatbush Avenue, a main thoroughfare leading to the Manhattan Bridge, a regular route for the marches. There have been as many as six marches in a single day. I hear them before I see them, a faint collective of rising insistence, growing louder and louder…
“George Floyd! George Floyd! George Floyd!”
I look out my window to see bobbing heads, colorful cardboard signs and fists raised to the sky — it’s impossible not to join in.
Still, every time, I scan through my worries: the virus, my own questionable post-cancer immunity, my knees — arthritic and with torn meniscus in each, they crackle and ache as I walk. But I’ve done it. Last Saturday, the group I marched with took a knee — I panicked and laughed to myself like “You want me to do what?!” But I slowly got down to one knee, and the second time they did it I just pulled off to the side. We do what we can.
You don’t have to march in a protest to battle systemic racism. There are plenty of things you can do. As women in midlife, we have the experience and life-earned skills that the 20-somethings marching (for whom we are so grateful!) might not have. We can volunteer, donate, hire, organize, strategize, write, communicate, educate ourselves, promote, act.
We’ve been talking about this in our TueNighters group: how we’re volunteering, where we are donating, how we are taking action. The answers are inspiring: Some are running for office in their towns, attending school board meetings to encourage discussion about Black Lives Matter, contacting public representatives, starting reading groups and donating.
As for me, I am giving to NAACP Legal Defense, The Bail Project, Al Maa'uun, and I was so moved by Flora Amos-Westbrook’s story on the news, I spontaneously donated a little to rebuild her hair salon in Minneapolis. I’ve texted and written letters to repeal NY state law 50A which looks like it’s going to happen! I’m reading Me and White Supremacy by Layla F. Saad and talking about it with a group of white friends. And in an everyday way, I try to use this publishing platform to elevate diverse voices, and ensure I’m being inclusive when I’m hiring a videographer or editor for a new project in my day job. It’s not enough, it’s not perfect, but we do what we can. And do it we must.
We’re also restarting our TueNighters subgroup The Hotbed to share ideas and talk in more depth on a daily basis about how we can be actively anti-racist. Join us! The more we share what we’re doing, the more we can identify new ways to help fight systemic racism and injustice, and encourage others to do the same.
And I am voting come November. Oh, am I voting.
— Margit Detweiler
THIS WEEK
(Photo: Vera Anderson/WireImage)
Oprah’s two-night town hall on systemic racism starts tonight. How to talk about trauma and protests at work. The last day to get customized stamps is tonight at 7pm PST. Watch Trevor Noah on how the social contract is broken and John Oliver on police brutality. Sign all the petitions for justice. Listen to Brené Brown in conversation with Ibram X. Kendi. Prioritize opportunities and access for Black women and girls. RIP Pointer Sister, Bonnie Pointer — wanna thank you for the joy you brought me. Dive into “Queers Built This” for Pride. Dear Class of 2020 from Schitt’s Creek. A freebie Menopause workshop from our pals at Elektra Health. 11 movies on Netflix for Black people who need to unwind and find joy. And just two guys singing a song from Grease. Pay attention, the story has gotten away from us. Then take a break, watch this dog.
Next week: The TueNight Live: Gen-X Variety Show has been moved to 6/16 and now includes Tara Phillips (read her story below)! Unfortunately Bassey Ikpi is no longer able to attend. Hope to see you then and there! Please continue to support the very necessary Crisis Text Line.
STORY: Baldwin & Baguettes: A Mother’s Burden at a Distance
(Photo: Tara Phillips)
By Tara Phillips
The worn cotton fibers of Emmanuel’s hoodie rubbed gently against my cheek when he went in for a final hug.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, Boo. I’m so glad I got to see you.”
I marveled at the immensity of his shoulders and chest as he enveloped me in his arms. My baby boy had grown so big. Those moments — his tender little arms wrapped around my neck and later, my legs — were long behind us...”
TUENIGHT 10: Celeste Smith
(T/N editor: “Can you give us a caption for this?” Celeste: “Dope AF.”)
Age: 47
Bio: Celeste is an unapologetically Black Muslim woman striving to make the world a better place. Her most recent work can be found in the anthology Tender, a collection of poetry, prose and art by 19 Black womxn and femmes in Pittsburgh. She is the co-founder of 1Hood Media, a collective of socially conscious artists and activists.
Beyond the Bio: Choices are a wonderful thing. I work daily against internalized patriarchy, limited religious ideologies, and remnants of low self-esteem. As I’ve gotten older, I have learned to own my decisions and appreciate that I can do whatever the fuck I want to do...I just have to be prepared to deal with the consequences.
What makes you a grown-ass lady? I embrace the fact that I don’t know shit. My heart has been broken, my spirit dampened and my mind lost. I have been penniless, reinvented myself and reclaimed all aspects of my life. And, I’ve learned from it all.
Here’s her TueNight 10:
1. On the nightstand: Water, hemp gummies, Salt by Nayyirah Waheed, the Quran, and a notebook and pen.
2. Can't stop/won't stop: Fighting for the liberation of oppressed people.
3. Jam of the minute: Consideration by Rihanna.
4. Thing I miss: Not knowing.
5. ’80s crush: River Phoenix.
6. Current crush: Jasiri X.
7. Latest fave find: Latex leggings.
8. Last thing you lost: Trust for someone I love.
9. Best thing that happened recently: After six months of waiting, I found out a lump in my left breast was benign.
10. Looking forward to: Black women being recognized, honored, and celebrated more for all of our accomplishments and sacrifices.
Self-Care When You are Utterly Devastated
Shortly after the 2016 election, astrologer and wellness guide Karrie Myers Taylor penned this essay to address our collective post-election blues. And here we are, not four years later, utterly devastated again by the manifestations of white supremacy that are woven into the fabric of this country. We’re thankful for Karrie’s tips, but sure as hell wish we didn’t need them.
Heading into Pride month like…