“Thank you George Floyd for sacrificing your life for justice, for being there to call out to your mom — how heartbreaking was that — call out for your mom, ‘I can’t breathe’. But because of you and because of thousands, millions of people around the world who came out…

I’m a good person.

How many times have we said that to ourselves and to others? More, how many times does that thought come up? Are you? Are we? What’s the definition of a good person? More, where exactly is the line between a good person and a bad one…

I haven’t sat down to write in months. Well not anything with the intent of putting it out there. This year has been one for the books and when I’m dealing with so many emotions at the same time, sometimes I just get stuck in my head just running circles…

The canary in the mine
Sitting pretty, fluttering about
She doesn’t look so good
Seems agitated
Don’t mind her,
She gets like that
Just looking for attention

The canary in the mine
Sitting pretty, oh maybe not so much
less fluttering about
She doesn’t look so good
Should we do something
She’s good
Too sensitive though

All the voices in my head

All the voices from the ancestors

All the voices that came before me, with me, after me

They all scream, write.

They all scream, tell your story.

Toni Morrison in a 1982 image. Photograph: Reg Innell/Toronto Public Library (Source)

These voices don’t see the pain behind the story

These voices don’t see the loneliness

These voices…

Hands chopping vegetables (Source)

My grandma is lost, to the past, to time. Like I never had a grandma.

My grandma liked toasted kaiser rolls, with butter, and swiss cheese, that’s all I can remember.

My grandma was dead when I was five.

My grandma started vanishing to dementia, but I’d already lost her…

I hear you sister, really
I hear your whispered words
I hear the unspoken shake of the head
I hear the seemingly silent look
I hear you sister, really

I hear your outrage
I hear your pain
I hear your suffering
I hear your disappointments
I hear your loneliness
I hear you sister, really…

I’m unimpressed by your machinations.
Unmoved by your tears.
Unfazed by your malice.
Undeterred by your obstacles.

While you’ve been working your plans
of deception
of cowardice
of malice.

I was working too.
Learning your ways.
Learning our ways. …

Photo Credit: Civic Educator

The bottomless well that is misogyny is tricky. Every time we think we’ve identified all the parameters and have the perfect checklist together, we uncover something new, well not new, but old. We get tripped up by the small stones of our ingrained training that we didn’t realize were there…


Musings, thoughts, and rants.

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