First of all, Happy Indigenous People’s Day!
I’m a historian of Atlantic Africa, the slave trade, and Africans in the Americas, so often that’s where my focus is. But this week I want to remember that while this nation was built by the enslaved, it was built on native land taken by force. I want to remember not to make anyone feel guilty, but to take some moments to sit in my discomfort with America’s past. White people’s attempts to avoid discomfort have caused a great deal of hurt and destruction, and change begins with the self. I will sit in discomfort, and I will help others do the same. I truly believe that it is only when we tolerate our discomfort to fully acknowledge the injustices of our shared past that we can move into an equitable future.
I still believe it is possible, even if the ideal of an equitable future feels far away sometimes. Especially this week, especially if you are a woman or a non-binary person with any history of sexual harassment, abuse, assault, or related trauma. Which is, well, all of us. We all have some experience with it, either directly, or through friends.
I’m not going to mince words. This week, most women in the US, like many other groups of people targeted by this administration, have felt that their country treats them like garbage.
That’s because right now, women (and other groups) are treated like garbage by our country. It’s the only way I have to explain what happened with Kavanaugh.
Something I want to address is how much something like this can affect the writing and productivity in general of women. Most of us are one “let’s give him the benefit of the doubt” away from either full-on screaming or bursting into tears in public. Our writing outputs are suffering. Continue reading “Self Care for Women Writers in the Age of Kavanaugh”
Summer is in full swing and the Smart Women want to talk about what each of their summers looks like.
I’ve already had a full summer’s worth of life crammed into my summer so far, but why not live in the fast lane?
I just got back from Barbados, where I presented on the Caribbean holdings of the Slave Societies Digital Archive at the Association of Caribbean Historians’ annual meeting. Let me tell you, this group of scholars is amazing. About half come from institutions in the Caribbean itself, and the rest from everywhere else. They do simultaneous translation so that people who don’t speak English, Spanish, and French can hear the latest scholarship of the full region and ask questions of people a language barrier would prevent them from asking. And they are the only scholarly organization that I know of, that has a end-of-conference fete written directly into the constitution. Our right to party is constitutional! And what a fete. You haven’t lived until you’ve been part of a group of scholars who can both bachata and whine. Continue reading “The Smart Women’s Summer, Part 1”
I have a million things I have to write, but I can’t stop thinking about a photo from Houston I saw on social media over the weekend. It was the sitting room of a nursing home for the elderly, with water that was waist-deep. The dark water was filthy, with what looked like cigarette butts floating in it. Everything sat in the water: a popcorn machine, lamps, recliners, wheelchairs, articles of clothing. Also sitting in the water: people.
Old people. Frail people. People who need wheelchairs, walkers, and crutches to get around. People not sure-footed enough to be able to wade through water, with eyesight too poor to see obstacles in the water even if it were clear. People whose papery skin had been sitting in contact with that water for hours, making it more easily tear-able. People with bandages hiding wounds that shouldn’t be in contact with the filthy water. People whose sweaters and blankets are soaked.
Time Magazine reported that someone in the home texted this photo to a resident’s family, who posted it to social media asking for help. After it received thousands of shaming retweets, the city of Houston redirected some strained resources to airlift the seniors out of their center to shelter.
I’m grateful that this part of Hurricane Harvey’s story has a happy ending. I’m glad no one was hurt during evacuation.
But I’m so incredibly angry, still.
Continue reading “We Create the Disasters, Not Nature”