George Floyd. Breanna Taylor. Ahmaud Arbery. And so many more. Precious human beings robbed of their one, precious life by racist violence.

It's hard to put the rage and heartbreak we are feeling into words. It feels near impossible for me to put my big feelings into anything resembling a coherent blog post right now, but the truth is, I couldn't wait another day to write this, regardless of how scattered it might be. Continuing to be silent while our brothers and sisters are murdered by police is akin to standing by and watching while a fire burns. Staying out of the arena while I figure out how to say what I feel, and worrying whether I am saying it "right" is simply allowing myself to hide behind my own perfectionism and fear in exchange for continuing to be complicit. I'm imperfect and I'm angry and I'm likely going to make a "mistake" when I talk about this.

So be it. The real mistake would be convincing myself that my feeling uncomfortable is more important than other human beings who feel (and are) physically at risk, every moment of every day, simply because of the color of their skin. 

It's time to speak up, to stand up, and acknowledge white supremacy. Will I say something awkward at some point? Offensive? Selfish? I can almost guarantee it. 

So be it. White folks like me standing up and talking about racisim and white supremacy is crucial to actively dismantling a system that oppressses people based on the color of their skin and I'd rather be an imperfect human being talking about racism that someone who isn't willing to open my mouth at all. That's not ok anymore.

Isn't this a site for conversations around creativity and our innate human right to express ourselves through art? Yes. And not being murdered by the police in your own bed, car, neighborhood, and community is essential to human and creative expression. Period. 

This week, I've cried, I've called, I've posted, signed petitions, and been glued to social media, watching the videos of the arrests, protests, continued police brutality against citizens, and commentary (and comments) unfurl. It feels like watching a house burn because there is a fire raging right now, and long after the flames were doused on the building in MN, the blaze of spirit remains. I've taken action this week and it doesn't feel like enough. 

This post isn't here to debate the urgency of dismantling the racist systems that literally kill black Americans and I'm not writing because I think I have the answers. I'm showing up because I believe that it's the only thing we can do in this moment, in this movement, and I invite us to share a conversation here in the comments about how we can acknowledge the collective pain we feel and take action on ending white supremacy once and for all.

What are you doing this week to educate yourself, to examine your own white privlege and the ways you have benefitted from a racist system? Here are five things that I've been doing these last few days, that while they aren't dousing the rage I feel, are helping to ground me and focus on what I can do in this moment. And though it feels awful to feel angry, would I really want to feel ok with all this going on? After all, ignorance is bliss, but at what cost?

1. This graphic (below) has helped me to realize and reflect on some of the ways that white supremacy masquerades in everyday life. It's not easy to see the ways you gained something based on someone else being oppressed; some are clear and others are covert. Seeing requires setting down your pride as well as questioning everything you believed about merit and who is deserving of success and happiness and what it means to enjoy security. It means looking at the way you were raised (what people told you regarding equality versus what you saw them model), the religion you subscribe to, your finances, the films you watch, the views you hold about certain cities and neighborhoods. It's so much easier to not examine these things. But we must. And I'll tell you, once you see, you can't unsee. 
​

 
​2. Utilize these curated resources that already exist and that are PACKED with ideas for taking action in your own life. And don't forget, talking to people in your own life, including family and children (and thus in your sphere of influence) is crucial. 

• This Google Doc is absolutely PACKED with ideas, books, resources for racial justice
• 75 Things White People Can Do For Racial Justice 
• Rachel Ricketts Antiracism Resources
• A recent post on Cup of Jo blog, and the comments are incredible and informative

3. Be proactive about learning from people who have experienced racism because of the color of their skin. Believe them when they say they are hurting. And? Don't expect them to take their personal time and energy to tell me exactly how I can help. For me, this has meant not burdening the people of color in my life with direct messages of "I'm so sorry this is happening, can you tell me how I can help?" but trying to take the onus of research and action steps on myself. For me, this has meant purchasing some books on becoming anti-racist and books that examine a non-white perspectives of oppression. After all, become aware is the first step. So far, I've got So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo en route via my local bookstore (PLEASE buy local whenever you can via this handy dandy site that helps you locate a small bookshop near you to purchase from), and on Audible, I've queued up Teaching to Transgress by Bell Hooks and How to be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi. I've got so much to learn.

4. Asking where I have power in my own life and how I can bring anti-rascist work for these areas. I am so grateful to be a teacher and specifically, I teach teachers at the graduate level how to work with students in classrooms in a variety of settings. Goodness knows I'm an imperfect professor, and I still find myself stuck in my own biases and perspectives and have to actively work through how I am approaching pedagogy and curriculum.  This week I'm using my rage as a way to recommit to making my classroom a place where I'm actively antiracist and don't fall back on a white centric view in my courses.  For me, this has meant reviewing my curriculum for my documentary theatre class and making sure that I am being even more inclusive with the reading list my students get each semester. In doing so, I made the decision to include a new play by Larissa FastHorse,  a Native American playwright, and Trans Scripts by Paul Lucas, a documentary play by  that tells the stories of trans women onstage. It's small, but it's a start.  You have power. Use it where you can.

5. Recommit to or start following non-white activists, artists, and thought leaders.  As white people who benefit from the racist system, we must actively work to change that system AND at the same time, we must allow people of color to lead and allow their voices to be heard above ours. Shaun King (who has a brilliant hotline set up to demand justice for George Floyd), Layla Saad, Brittany Packnett, Rachel Cargle, and Shaka Senghor, are just a few to start with. I've been floored at the number of new to me activists and artists of all kinds that I've discovered just this morning writing this blog post, people that aren't profiled in mainstream media and who are doing important, beautiful work. Seek them out. You won't be sorry. Do research of your own and find countless human beings who have been speaking about these injustices for much longer than we as white folks have been aware or cared to listen. Oh, and I also recommend Standing Up for Racial Justice, which is a national network of folks that gather and mobilize to dismantle white supremacy and build just communities. I've been to meetings in the past and you can look up a chapter near you.

6. Put your money where your mouth is. Donate to Minnesota Freedom Fund, which helps to post bail for protestors in MN, and google other options for your local area. If you are in or near NY, Brooklyn Bail Fund is another great prg doing this work. Donate to your local Black Lives Matter chapter. Offer to provide food and water for an upcoming protest. Seek out local organizations that support arts, education, health equity, and othr efforts for your black neighbors and community members and make a donation. Pay non-white artists, writers, and activists for the materials they share on white supremacy instead of simply expecting them for free. 

So, what other resources do you suggest during this time? I would love to hear, in the comments, or on social media. As Lin-Manuel Miranda says, "This is not a moment, it's the movement." This is a marathon, not a sprint, and we need to continue to take good care of ourselves and each other at this time. Fight, rage, speak out. Drink water, sit in stillness for five minutes, cuddle with your pet, sing loudly to your favorite song. We need us, and the only way to make sure we can still continue caring and working for change is to take care.

Let us stand
and speak
and kneel
and march
and write
and donate
and read
and teach
and preach
and pray
and scream
and cry
and imagine
and dream
and create
​and build
and organize
and educate
and rejoice for hard won victories
and care for ourselves and one another
together.

Let us not forget that though revolution is raw and painful, the point is to fight for a world where we can create instead of cry.  What if the end goal of the fight for justice is joy?

4. Doing a little coloring / doodling. I used to paint and draw quite often, and while I need to keep my overachieving / perfectionist self from feeling like I have to become a master, I have been enjoying getting out my colored pencils again to use in my adult coloring book gifted to me by a friend a few years back and opening a new page of my old stechbook to try to capture the likeness of my sweet cat (in progress pic below). There's good reason why kids can get lost coloring. The repetitive motion and textures of the pencils and paper are actually very soothing. No judging, just joy; pleasure, not perfection. 

5. Daily Walks. If there has been one thing I feel strongly about doing, it has been to get outside for some fresh air as often as possible. My allergies have been acting up as I spend more time in the apartment and my body and spirit have craved sunshine. I try and indulge my inner seven year old when I go out walking and make a mental scavenger hunt for fun. What flowers can I find today? How many different kinds of birds? I like engaging as many of my senses as possible. What does the bark of the willow tree feel like on my hands? How does it feel to walk through the mud? Snapping some photos of some of my favorite flowers has been soothing, too. 

I hope you continue to take care the best you can and give yourself a permission slip to feel what you feel and do what you want to do without judgement or regard for how it might look to everyone else. And if you feel like sharing, tell me what you are up to in the comments below.

​Looking forward to sending along some more notes, links, and photos soon!

Oh, Friends. How are you doing? So much has happened since I last wrote in this space, and the world feels upside down. I truly hope that you are healthy, safe, and taking good care of yourselves during this stressful time.

The past week knocked me over. I didn't see it coming, then feared it was barreling our way, hoped it would not hit us, and then felt the full force of having the spiritual wind knocked out of me when it finally did. Headlines looked like they were from a disaster movie and everywhere I turned, I felt completely awash in doom and gloom. Overwhelmed and overstimulated. Sad and anxious and angry. I still feel these things.

Everywhere I look, I see people mobilizing and organizing and planning virtual performances, storytimes, happy hours. Social media has been plastered with inspirational qutes about using this time to write, invent, paint, create all kinds of things, chase down those dreams you've always dreamed. These notions are so thoughtful and lovely and hopeful. 

And? These things, too, make me feel overwhelmed and overstimulated and frankly, exhausted. During the first few days of adjusting to working from home last week, I was struggling with what felt like the basics. I was having a hard time cooking a meal, getting used to Zoom work meetings, and on some mornings, I had to muster every ounce of energy I had to raise my head above the fog of depression that had descended over my being to simply get out of bed and start the day. Putting more pressure on myself to keep hustling and innovating and creating felt like trying to run a marathon with a broken leg. It still does.

Now, I'm not saying that if you are finally starting to write that screenplay you always dreamed about writing that you are doing anything wrong. If you feel like it, go with that flow. I'm simply saying that if, like me, you don't feel up to anything but simply adjusting to this new for now normal, you aren't alone and you aren't doing anything wrong. You are simply a human being who is wound up in a million different ways and you deserve compassion and patience and time to adjust. You don't need to hustle or monetize a quarantine routine or "take advantage" of this time for anything other than taking care of your precious self and not apologizing for it.

Up until now, I haven't been ready to get working on anything super social or creative. It's been a privilege to hunker down in my apartment and work from home, safe and warm, and I know that. I do. But as someone with anxiety, a history of depression, and ongoing OCD, it's been an incredible challenge in its own right. Staying to myself a lot this past week has felt selfish, AND it's what I've needed to do each day, faithfully, in order to get through the day. I've needed to stop putting pressure on myself to start a big social media movement or a new podcast or produce some kind of online theatre performance. I haven't been ready to do so. I've begun to limit news, checking only a handful of times per day, and largely stay away from social media, as I feel just as overwhelmed by the positive suggestions as I do the dark and gloomy commentary. It's all been too loud for me. Funny how an overload of hope can be just as noisy as fear mongering. Does anyone know what I mean?

As it turns out, today I did participate in something creative, an online performance of a new play, performed via Zoom, and to be perfectly honest, even up until the performance itself, I still didn't feel ready to do something that required that much energy. Once the performance began, the momentum of making something with other people washed over me and lifted my heart. I got to meet some wonderful artists from all around the country and act for the first time in over a year, and via a completely new-to-me medium nonetheless. I was able to muster enough energy to do a reading of a new play, but I also didn't have to write the play, produce it, or act as stage manager of sorts, which I'm not in the state of mind to do at the moment. All I needed to do was show up for a rehearsal and then almost immediately following, the performance, all from a script that didn't need to be memorized. Along with the reading, this blog post is all I have for today. I might not have anything sharable in me tomorrow or next week and that has to be ok. 

I'm so grateful for and have incredible respect for people who do have the energy for that kind of organizing and creative work right now, but I also am trying to respect the fact that I'm not there yet. For me, I'm just trying to get through the day, taking as good of care of my physical and mental health as I can. 

All this is to say that if you aren't yet feeling the peace or the joy or the freedom of this new normal yet, you aren't alone.

The shape of things is changing, and even if and when we get back to what we think of as "business as usual", this new routine is here for awhile and any new routine takes time to adjust to.

There's no right way to respond and there is no wrong way to feel.

We are all just figuring this out together for the first time.

If you're organizing a big project, I admire you.

If you are picking up a forgotten hobby after a long hiatus, I hope you find bits of joy in the uncertainly.

If you are unable to get dressed most days and are not showering and staving off one panic attack after another, please know that I respect you, too. We are all just doing the best we can. 

I'm trying to treat myself like my seven year old self this week and let her do what she needs to do to get through. Binging old episodes of Outlander and eating chocolate cake for dinner? Yes. Wearing the same outfit three days in a row? Go for it. Signing offline to purposefully turn down the noise of it all and walking outside to spy the new spring blooms? Do it. 

Take care during these days, and give yourself permission to feel whatever it is you feel. Let yourself not be ready yet.  Readiness cannot be rushed.