I moved to Bay Saint Louis, Mississippi nearly two years ago. I had a strong yearning to be part of a smaller community, surrounded by nature, experiencing a slower rhythm, with space for my child to run on a longer leash. I had to juggle – I knew what I wanted, but making it happen took stacking uneven blocks on top of each other, not being able to connect all the dots in the future…
Flower, my Russian friend, has many pithy sayings but one of my favorites is “Hope dies last.” This has been a reminder during my darkest hours that to give up hope is the equivalent of annihilation. So I always go through my list and at the bottom is this: I hope I don’t give up hope. On Friday, March 13, I decided to not send Tin to school. At that time, I had been sick…
Tin’s Wednesday homeschool assignment was figurative language. Here’s my homework. Simile COVID-19 is like a staycation you didn’t want. Metaphor Social distancing was a spigot of cold water dripping daily onto my soul. Personification The pandemic tiptoed into our lives sometimes appearing as the Angel of Death but most times as a wake up call to stop living like the dead.
Every year for Passover, we host a seder and invite people from all backgrounds to join us as we remember when we were slaves in Egypt. We tell the story of the Exodus so that our children realize their freedom is precious. When Tin arrived in my life, our seder became more multicultural as we blended the narrative of African enslavement in this country with the Jewish enslavement in the old country. I love the…
Tin is frequently called out for being disruptive in school. I know his invisibility in a class of 27 students, seven with special needs, fosters some of his behavior. He wants to be Seen. Heard. Touched. Here in our home school, his rhythm is the antithesis of my “get r done” process. I go after a task as if it were my sole purpose in life. He flits in and out of his tasks as…
My friend Alicein shut down our beloved Mockingbird Cafe yesterday and oh what a difference to us. This morning, she brought over some of the kitchen produce and I was cooking my mom’s cabbage dish and needed tomatoes and Wala! Thank you, Alicein, for giving during tough times. Yesterday, my friend Kat left books for me and Tin on her porch steps along with two containers of homemade chicken soup. On top of the box…
FOUND: There is a dirty little secret about the COVID-19 pandemic – more time for everything. Long walks. Bike rides. Books. Movies. Time to chat and check in with friends – albeit at a (social) distance. LOSS: The momentum of my business here at the 100 Men Hall. I was building an audience, a reputation, a community, sponsors, grants, a vision and now the rug has been pulled out from under me. FOUND: A community.…
My dear, We need to make books cool again. If you go home with somebody and they don’t have books, don’t fuck them. Don’t let them explore you until they’ve explored the secret universes of books. Don’t let them connect with you until they’ve walked between the lines on the pages. Books are cool, if you have to withhold yourself from someone for a bit in order for them to realize this then do so.…
My mother was an enchanting beauty with her jade green eyes and thick honeyed hair. She turned heads. My sister with her high cheek bones and muscular petite frame has my mom’s looks. Growing up next to these beauties never fazed me. I didn’t compare myself to them or any of the other strikingly beautiful friends I’ve come to know over the years. I know beauty is luck and sometimes even a curse. But I’m…
The human corridor has expanded for many of us walkers because we have time. My 2-3 mile walks are now a meandering 4-7 miles most mornings. I find myself in new neighborhoods, waving to new people on their porches, and even today being followed by a new dog all the way to the Hall (spoiler alert: the owner came to get her). On my walk this morning, I listened to a meditation that asked what…