On Bookclub and Freedom
I was really thankful to start Juneteenth off with New York Writer’s Coalition’s Black Writers Program Juneteenth "Write-In". It was a wonderful opportunity to honor my writing practice, process my many feelings about the holiday (especially now that it’s a Federal holiday…), and reflect on freedom.
The session started with the facilitator reading this poem “Not Everything Is Sex” by Lauren Whitehead. We then had the opportunity to discuss what resonated with us most and then to choose from prompts inspired by the poem and holiday. I selected the prompt “You can’t tell me that’s not freedom.” My thoughts went to the freedom and the joy I feel with the ladies in my bookclub and the fact that that joy is based in a freedom that enslaved Africans were largely prohibited from doing.
In the Beforetimes, we would gather at someone’s house or cram into someone’s Bay Area-sized apartment ostensibly to discuss a book we’d read. We’d spread out in the homes of our friends for hours on end, yes, talking about books, but also:
Eating lovingly prepared food.
Eating thoughtfully purchased food.
Drinking wine.
Drinking more wine.
Reveling in each other’s brilliance.
Brainstorming solutions to colleagues’ microagressions.
Hyping people up for interviews away from aforementioned colleagues.
Recommending hairdressers.
Warning about hairdressers.
And more.
Always more.
Gathering to celebrate an action previously prohibited to our beloved ancestors.
Gathering because there’s something magical when Black women come together for self-care and co-care.
Kiese asked, “Y’all risked it all for a bookclub?”
Yes. And you can’t tell me that’s not freedom.
How’s 2021 so far?
As this helpful, stress-inducing Twitter account states, 2021 is more than 30% finished so I figured I should check on my bookish resolutions. Here’s how I’m doing so far:
1) Finish my novel manuscript. I started work on a novel in late November 2019, worked on it within my writing gang, but also lost my way/interest. I want to finish it this year. Inshallah.
So…I haven’t made much progress on my novel manuscript, but I have been exploring writing short stories more and that’s been really fun.
2) Submit at least 12 pieces for publication in 2021. There was a time in my life when I was shooting my shot more and I want to return to that. I submitted two pieces the last week of December 2020 because I want to keep that same energy for this year.
So far I’ve only, strike that, I’ve submitted 2 /12 pieces (your girl is 0 for 2, but we move) this year BUT I also submitted an application to Voices of Our Nations Arts Foundation - VONA/Voices 2021 Summer Workshop and was accepted! I’m super thankful and really excited to participate in this writing workshop (my 2nd!) and proud of myself for shooting my shot!
3) Return my library books in a more timely manner. It’s hard because my (talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show-stopping, spectacular…) library system did away with late fees (which is a great step to address inequity), but I’m actually someone who needs the deadline to get my life together.
I have returned only 2 library books late this year. Please clap. I could make excuses (limited time to get to the library before it closes on the weekday and the fact that my library system still doesn’t allow for dropping off books yet, despite what we know about how COVID-19 is transmitted…), but I’m making it a goal to turn them in on time and that’s made me prioritize which books I pick up and finish and has made me quicker to stop books that I’m not feeling. “And no, I ain't perfect, Nobody walkin' this earth's surface is, But, girlfriend, work with the kid.”-Jay-Z
4) Continue checking in with my writing gang. Needs no elaboration, but I love these women. Consistently checking in with them last year was such a blessing and often provided the encouragement I needed to make progress on my projects.
This has been challenging. I think Zoom fatigue has hit us hard and with our area opening up more slowly schedules are starting to fill up. We’re hoping to resume meeting in-person since we’re vaccinated.
5) ??? One thing I’m learning is to leave room for unexpected good things that might happen. Last year, I had the opportunity to participate in a conference for writers of color which I didn’t even know existed at the beginning of 2021. So I’m leaving room for a serendipitous 5th bookish goal.
Being accepted to participate in VONA/Voices 2021 Summer Workshop was definitely an unexpected good thing. Another unexpected good thing is seeing that Deesha Philyaw (if you haven’t read “The Secret Lives of Church Ladies” yet, please do yourself a favor…) is teaching a writing course! So obviously, I signed up for that.
Untitled 4.20.21
This is not joy. This is relief.
Mixed with, yes, still anger. And an aftertaste of grief.
How many times have too many fathers, kids, and wives
prayed that this cup would pass?
This is not justice. This is a crumb.
And even that I can't taste. Tears spent, spirit numb.
To some? It's tantalizingly sweet progress.
Me?
It leaves choking.
Throat dry.
Me?
I hunger. Dissatisfied.
Thirsty for substance, not appearance.
Begging, starved for sustenance.
x Kaylé D. Barnes
Black Writers buoyed me during the Pangea.
I’ve kept a gratitude journal with various levels of fidelity throughout my life and really tried to sustain it during what I think most people can agree was a shitty year overall. One of the aspects of this weird pandemic time that I’ll forever be grateful for is how Black writers gave of themselves to yes, promote their work, but also to share their expertise and love.
Being able to hear from beloved authors, many of whom geography might have prohibited me from seeing, share about their craft, perspective, and more has been such a blessing during a time when I’m trying to rededicate to my writing. I’m grateful that we live in a time where so many Black writers are rightfully getting what’s theirs and then turning around and pouring into us.
Grateful for Black abundance during a dearth of good things.
Finding Catharsis through Avengers: Endgame
Why in 2020 - during a whole Pangea - would I watch this movie [Avengers: Endgame], knowing full well that it brought me to tears the very first time I watched it in a movie theater?
Over the past 12 months, I’ve rewatched “Avengers: Endgame” about 5011* times, sometimes starting at the beginning and other times, simply returning to the parts that especially resonated with me.
Why in 2020 - during a whole Pangea - would I watch this movie, knowing full well that it brought me to tears the very first time I watched it in a movie theater? Because it allowed me to process, if only for three hours, the sadness and anger that I felt over being let down by a feckless Federal government and my fellow compatriots. I was and am privileged to have stayed gainfully employed during this pandemic. In the beginning, when the bad news was a barrage and I wasn’t quite used to the mundanity of being at home all the time, I would turn on Endgame. It was essential for me to remember a time when things were slightly better in real life and, also, to fantasize about humanity ultimately being saved by superhuman adults and a teen from Queens.
I was reminded of how much of a downer this movie is, but in a year that saw the deaths of half a million Americans, “Avengers: Endgame” also proved to be oddly comforting because it gave me an opportunity for catharsis while the world felt upside down. This is where I have to disclose I have had a relatively easy quarantine/2020. I haven’t lost any close family members or my employment, just a year of all the big and little moments and time with people I love who make life worth living.
“Catharsis noun /kəˈθɑːr.sɪs/: the process of releasing strong emotions through a particular activity or experience, such as writing or theater, in a way that helps you to understand those emotions”
When I couldn’t comprehend the rapid spread of COVID-19 and the beginning of its devastating effects on communities of color, I could process my sadness by watching the Avengers who were left behind and how they coped in the aftermath of The Snap. In a year where I couldn’t see and commune with my people and long before visual media would start incorporating COVID-19 into show plots, seeing Cap lead a survivor’s group and talk to them explicitly about grief hit differently. Seeing Ant-Man return from the Quantum Realm to San Francisco - the city where I reside in real life -and be confronted with a memorial to those lost in The Snap, put in perspective for me just how many people might die in real life, and forced me to consider how many of my loved ones could be killed by a disease that we knew too little about.
This isn’t the first time that Endgame has unexpectedly touched me in a deeper way than one might expect a comic book movie to. In the Fall of 2019, I experienced a bout of depression that shook me. I revisited Endgame back then, too, and found myself moved, once again, by Thor’s struggles after his many losses and challenges. Seeing a character struggle on-screen with depression and live through it (without causing harm to others, HAWKEYE) was heartening to me during a time when my brain and feelings weren’t able to cope.
After spending an entire year indoors, maybe I’m overanalyzing this movie in a multibillion-dollar franchise. Maybe these are just the musings of a fangirl trying to create meaning about something as mundane as watching a favorite movie over and over again. But I know it’s much more than that. Stories matter. They make it possible for us to understand our culture and a mirror to reflect and relate to that culture. The Marvel Cinematic Universe has provided me with stories that over the years have helped me take a break from reality and at other times process my feelings about the real world. I’m a grateful fan.
Can “Avengers: Endgame” provide a template on what a national reckoning with our failure to meaningfully contain COVID-19 might look like? Maybe.
But at the very least, in Endgame, it’s given me a cinematic portrayal of rage, grief, and hope on a global, if not cosmic scale, and that counted for something in a year that cost us far too many lives.
Special thanks to my brother-in-writing, Bradford J. Howard for reading this and giving me feedback before I pitched it. It didn’t get picked up, but I still wanted to share.
*If you know, you know
Let Us Now Praise Carefree Black Girls
It’s the year of our Lord 2021 and people are still figuratively (and literally) trying to police Black girls and women’s bodies.
Why?
I know why, but I want and need Black folk to stop. When reading about the backlash that the talented, beautiful Chloe Bailey encountered while living her best life on the ‘Gram and internets the first thought I had was “Phew if that were me, I, too, would be out here.” After swatting away my negative body image thoughts, my next thought was how important it is for Black women, femmes, and non-conforming folk to live their lives as freely as they can. Knowing how difficult that can be and even how impossible it can feel. Nevertheless, I believe we have to try.
“Freeing yourself was one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self was another.”
Easier said than done, but it’s what we owe ourselves, our ancestors, and the future.
I grew up in a very religious (Christian) family and developed a lot of hangups about a lot of stuff. It wasn’t until I was in college, studied and lived in France, and got out and about in the world that I started to question what I believed, how I wanted to show up in the world, and what I wanted to do about it. These are questions I’m still trying to answer to this day and I feel like I’m constantly asking if aspects of my life resonate with me or if I need to let them go. So when a young lady like Chloe is engaging in her freedom and loving herself out loud in public I LOVE TO SEE IT. A small part of me wishes I had taken advantage of that freedom when I was younger and a larger part hopes that I can figure out how to tap into that freedom and self-love now, in this moment, and from now on.
All of this is why “The Secret Lives of Church Ladies” x Deesha Philyaw resonated with me so deeply. It’s a collection of stories of churched Black women trying to navigate their intimate lives within or related to the environment of the church. These characters, like all of us, contain multitudes and it was affirming to see their
“The Secret Lives of Church Ladies” is in conversation with two other books I read and appreciated “Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments: Intimate Histories of Social Upheaval” x Saidya Hartman and “Girl, Gurl, Grrrl: On Womanhood and Belonging in the Age of Black Girl Magic” x Kenya Hunt. Separately, these books provide an opportunity to reflect on how Black women, femmes, and nonconforming folk have snatched and amplified freedom when they could and reflections on contemporary life.
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These books are all (apparently needed) reminders that Black women are not responsible for other’s expectations of them. Period.
I hope that Chloe and anyone else, but especially Black women, looking for freedom find themselves on both the pages of these books and out in these streets.
“My President Was Black”
Reading is comprised of so many elements for me: what, who, when, and where I’m reading.
Finishing President Obama’s (hella long) memoir in 2021 after a traumatic 2020 and previous four years, after an insurrection at the United States Capitol, after Trump’s electoral defeat, after winning the Senate, was an experience.
After four years of Federal incompetence and hate, a year where that incompetence caused the deaths of more than 400,000 (as of this writing) Americans, and the examples and agendas of women like AOC, and E Dubs (Elizabeth Warren) I read this memoir angry and further to the left in politics (if not always in praxis) than I read Obama’s first two books.
It’s not him, it’s me.
He promised Hope and Change, and delivered in some ways, but I’ve changed.
So the memoir itself, besides being long, (did I mention it was long?) was extremely well-written. This is not surprising, because if there’s one thing Obama is going to do it’s write and wield his words but the effect of the prose was that I read a 700-page book with ease.
For readers of his previous books, there’s some repetition about his early years, but I appreciate the opportunity to revisit and contextualize recent history that I lived through. We get to learn more about his initial political failures, his Senate run, the Rev. Wright situation, and more-stories that feel like a lifetime ago. At times, some of the episodes (the financial crisis for one and the many steps needed to right a sinking boat of an economy) felt overly laborious, but I was reminded that he inherited a dumpster fire on domestic and international fronts and that it might feel that way, because I lived through that. Criticism of Obama as overly professorial holds up, but it also belies how thoughtful and measured he is which makes for a great book. Obama does a great job illustrating (or reminding people who forgot-I haven’t forgotten…) how the modern Republican party evolved from McCain bringing Palin on board, to the Tea Party, to birtherism, to Trump, to an insurrection…
I kept being drawn back to Ta-Nehisi Coates’ “My President Was Black” from 2017 and his latest essay revisiting Trump as America’s “first white president”. Unfortunately, I think it’s impossible to read the memoir without simultaneously considering what came afterward.
P.S.
Michelle (ah that Inauguration look!) and Obama’s memoirs serve different purposes, but it’s interesting to think about what those purposes are and how they advance our understanding of this historic couple as individuals and as a couple.
P.P.S. If Sasha and Malia ever write memoirs I.am.here.for.it.
Bookish Resolutions
For the past few years, my book club has done vision boards ensemble. This year, we did it on Zoom which was a change. It’s also the first year I decided to make a writing-focused vision and vibes board. Here are 5 resolutions for 2021:
1) Finish my novel manuscript. I started work on a novel in late November 2019, worked on it within my writing gang, but also lost my way/interest. I want to finish it this year. Inshallah.
2) Submit at least 12 pieces for publication in 2021. There was a time in my life when I was shooting my shot more and I want to return to that. I submitted two pieces the last week of December 2020 because I want to keep that same energy for this year.
3) Return my library books in a more timely manner. It’s hard because my (talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show-stopping, spectacular…) library system did away with late fees (which is a great step to address inequity), but I’m actual
4) Continue checking in with my writing gang. Needs no elaboration, but I love these women. Consistently checking in with them last year was such a blessing and often provided the encouragement I needed to make progress on my projects.
5) ??? One thing I’m learning is to leave room for unexpected good things that might happen. Last year, I had the opportunity to participate in a conference for writers of color which I didn’t even know existed at the beginning of 2021. So I’m leaving room for a serendipitous 5th bookish goal.
12 Cookbooks for you to check out
In January, I decided that I wanted to cook 12 recipes from 12 new-to-me cookbooks. I was rocking and rolling and then the world turned upside down. Somewhere in September (honestly, what to months mean anymore?) I remembered this desire and got to work.
Yesterday, I completed my 12th recipe with the Sweet Potato Honey Beer Pie from Nik Sharma’s The Flavor Equation.
Cookbooks in order (you can find the cookbooks and recipes I made on IG under my “Cookbooks” highlight.
Nadiya’s British Food Adventures: Over 120 Fresh, Easy and Enticing New Recipes x Nadiya Hussain
Jubilee x Toni Tipton-Martin (Instant classic. I LOVE how Tipton-Martin weaves history all throughout and let’s us know how integral Black chefs are to American cuisine. Love it.)
Dinner in French x Melissa Clark
The Full Plate x Ayesha Curry (Would highly recommend this for cooking chill, delicious food.)
Zaitoun x Yasmin Khan ( I LOVE this cookbook. I’ve already made 2 recipes from it and can’t wait to work my way through more of it. Shoutout to my best friend who bought me my own copy after seeing how much I loved the electronic book I checked out from my library.)
Parwana: Recipes and stories from an Afghan kitchen x Durkhanai Ayubi
Drinking French x David Lebovitz
East x Meera Sodha
Nopalito: A Mexican Kitchen x Gonzalo Guzmán and Stacy Adimando
Tartine All Day x Elisabeth Pruett
Mixtape Potluck x ?uestlove and Friends (I’ll definitely be buying this. I love ?uestlove’s interdisciplinary mindset and how he weaves all of his passions together. Also, shoutout to him for being an Aquarius.)
The Flavor Equation: The Science of Great Cooking Explained in More Than 100 Essential Recipes x Nik Sharma
10 Books I’d Recommend from my 2020
Looking for book recommendations? Check out my favorites from 2020.
In my reading and writing nook.
2020 has been a year to say the least. For all that it was, it was also a year for me that was filled with good books and the beloved community (for me that means the bookclub I’m in with phenomenal women and all of the Bookstagram homies) they entail.
Without further ado, my top 10 of 2020, in no particular order.
Breasts and Eggs x Mieko Kawakami
The City We Became x N.K. Jemisin-I loved this book. I might mess around and re-read it because it was so riveting.
Want x Lynn Steger Strong
Memorial x Bryan Washington-This book was gifted from the publisher, but I would have bought and loved it had they not sent it. I love the essential Houston-ness of Washington’s work and how the stories could only originate from such a mish-mash of a city. If you love food and/or Houston (one of the country’s best culinary cities), I’d highly recommend reading this book and listening to Bryan on The Sporkful.
The Death of Vivek Oji x Akwaeke-This book was beautiful and heartbreaking. Truly stunning.
The Secret Lives of Church Ladies x Deesha Philyaw-This collection of short stories did what needed to be done. My favorite short story collection of the year.
Finna x Nate Marshall-I reconnected with poetry this year and I’m so blessed that “Finna” came into life at a time when I needed it. Just read it. If you’re Black, I’m sure you’ll find several poems that resonate with you.
Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments x Sadiya Hardman-I found this book to be so affirming. It’s an exploration of the ways that Black women and nonconforming folks created ways out of no way during (even more) oppressive times. It felt truly celebratory to honor their memories and defiance.
The Meaning of Mariah x Mariah Carey with Michaela Angela Davis- I wasn’t a Lamb before, but after experiencing Mariah’s audiobook memoir, I’m Lamb. I don’t make the rules.
Zaitoun x Yasmin Khan-This is a cookbook that has become my new favorite cookbook. At the beginning of 2020 I decided I wanted to cook 12 new recipes from 12 new-to-me cookbooks. I’ve made two recipes (Pomegranate Passion Cake and Freekeh and Butternut Squash with Spinach) from Zaitoun already and am already preparing a third. I originally checked it out as an ebook from the library, but one of my best friends gave it to me as a gift when she saw how much I loved it.