I became a Mac user when the line for the x86 computers in the university computer center was too long, and I had a paper due. I taught myself HTML on a Mac using TextEdit, and it’s still my platform of choice almost 20 years later.
I have the best of intentions, but I don’t always get around to reading the items I save to Pocket. Here’s a short list of the items I’ve filed this week:
Growing up I was never told that I could be anything I wanted to be – there was a lot of assumption that because of my class status (and also probably because I was female) that my lot in life was pretty much set for me. I absorbed this attitude and I got through a bachelor’s degree without engaging in much of anything because I didn’t belong there – I was a perpetual outsider everywhere.
I’ve felt this way, too, and it’s one of the main reasons I started the #L1S Tweetchat. The chats will resume after surgery, most likely in August. However, if you’d like to moderate a #L1S chat sooner than that, let me know!
Ice the Tea, Not the Coffee
My favourite summertime beverage. When I lived in Atlanta, I drank giant 64 oz. tumblers of the stuff several times a day. I was also ignorant about calories. Maybe I was defiant. I’m not really sure. What passes for iced tea in Vancouver is absolutely terrible, and the only place I can get anything that comes sort of close to what I’m used to is Starbucks. I’ve decided to make my own this summer, and I’ve experimented with fruit teas (tisanes) with mixed success. To my tastebuds, nothing comes close to Luzianne Iced Tea blend, but sadly I can’t get that in Canada.
Frozen Fudge Pops
When I saw this recipe I squealed and clapped my hands. Fudgesicles were a favourite childhood food, but this version with upgraded ingredients is definitely worth a try. Filing away for “things to do when I’m laid up after surgery.”
- Explosives technician
- Race car driver
- Cupcake tester
- Minor deity
- Professional cynic
- Gabourey Sidibe’s body double
- Lawn flamingo
Many of us have made a life of hoping to get chosen for jobs, chosen for awards, chosen for acceptance from people, structures and corporations bred on white supremacy. We’re hoping to get chosen by people who can not see us. Knowing that they hate and terrorize us doesn’t stop us from wanting to get chosen. That’s the crazy thing. Everything about this country told Grandma, a black woman born in Central Mississippi in 1920s, to love, honor and forgive white folks. And this country still tells me, a black boy born in Mississippi in the 1970s, to titillate and tend to the emotional, psychological and spiritual needs of white people in my work.
Kiese Laymon makes me want to hang up my keyboard and forget about writing on the regular. His piece for The Guardian, “Black churches taught us to forgive white people. We learned to shame ourselves” is no exception.
As I’m inclined to do, I try to relate articles like this with my experience as a black professional in a predominately white profession. My reluctance to put myself forward for jobs, speaking opportunities, or even acceptance from people is my way of staging resistance. Why participate in rituals and structures that aren’t designed with me in mind, and are only invested in supporting my success if I perform in such a way that makes me visible to them? This resistance often comes with a high price; visibility and professional accolades sometimes come at the expense of my own sense of worth.
We bond with our captors1, develop sympathy for them, and become convinced that their way is the only way. The indignities and traumas continue to mount, but we smile, we dance, we submit papers and answer calls for proposals, because the alternative is professional obscurity.
It is insanity.
- This phenomenon is also known as stockholm syndrome. ↩
The irony of choosing a WordPress theme that uses Google Fonts while writing about my move away from Google wasn’t lost on me. Thanks to the Typekit Fonts for WordPress plugin, this theme will soon be free of Google Fonts.