On the evening of last week's horrific Tuesday, I went (along with what seemed to be most of San Francisco) to hear Angela Davis speak at City Arts and Lectures. It was a balm to be under the warm glow of an elder's wisdom-filled words at such a time. Towards the end of the evening, an audience member asked how to stay the course in times like these. In her response, she quoted activist Mariame Kaba saying 'hope is a discipline' not an emotion or even an optimism, but rather a practice to keep in motion the continued work we have toward all social justices. Since then, the words have become a mantra I have found myself repeating, perhaps too often. I hope you too can feel some solid ground beneath you from hearing them.
I grew up in the public schools of New Orleans in the 80s. MLK Day was, after Mardi Gras, the most memorable school event of the year. We would eat our hot lunches in the cafeteria while the teachers wheeled out a record player and played Dr. King's full 'I Have a Dream' speech. It was scratchy and loud, but we all sat silently listening to his words each day for a week. And in classes we sang songs, performed in plays and read books that wove the history, the stories and the activism behind King’s words. It made an impression....
Yesterday, I sat down with my three boys in front of our bookshelves at home with the kids books on it. We did something together I typically have only done by myself: a physical count, separated into piles of
how many of the books were written by a person of color,
how many books feature a child of color as the main character, and
how many represent day-to-day life with a child who happens to be of color?
Lots of conversations ensued that I know will continue. It was a pretty powerful way to spend an afternoon with my children.
