This morning my parents and I listened to a recording of Robert Hayden reading his wrenching poem about the slave trade "Middle Passage" as we followed along with the printed text. The poem is in the style of Elliot's "The Wasteland," with multiple voices telling layered stories. It is not easy. But as I tell my students, if we can enjoy songs without understanding every word, we should grant that same grace to poetry.
The Black Lives Matter protests of the past two weeks have pulled open our nation's eyelids. There is so much work to be done to right the wrongs that allow racist policies and practices to flourish. No one person can reform and heal our country. But we can each start by listening to stories other than our own. Reading Black authors and poets is an important part of the re-education we must commit to if our country is to have hope of righting racist wrongs.
I urge you to listen to this recording Robert Hayden reading "Middle Passage" as a small step forward. Let the imagery and pain of this important poem wash over you.
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Today my mother (again) washed a few undergarments by hand and then was (again) fretful when she discovered I don't have a clothesline. I reminded her (again) that I am happy to throw her laundry in with ours. As I type this, I realize I could make a certain someone in my basement very happy if I would just jump on Amazon and buy a skein of clothesline and a pack of clothespins.
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I grew up during the '70s energy crisis, when Americans were called upon to lower their driving speed to 55 mph and reserve energy however they could. My mother embraced this call for action with the self-sacrificing-doing-my-part attitude I see myself enacting in COVID-19.
As her teenager, my fingers always felt cold, no matter how many layers of sweaters I put on, because she kept the house at 62 degrees (doing her part). I was embarrassed as she rode her 3-wheeled bike all over town, hauling groceries and library books to avoid using gasoline (doing her part). I was angry that she refused to let me dry my jeans in the dryer for the tight fit fashion called for, and instead hung them on the line where they dried stiff as cardboard (doing her part).
Her environmentalism may have hatched in the '70s, but it has since flown circles around the rest of us. She dresses in a wardrobe purchased from GoodWill and the church rummage sale (doing her part). She shops the "nearly expired" produce section. She. Does. Not. Waste. Anything.
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As an adult, I have felt alternately guilty and satisfied when I've turned up the thermostat to comfortable levels. I use a clothes dryer. I recycle (lite), but I don't compost my garbage. I do not willfully litter or over-consume. But my mother has me beat hands-down when it comes to living lightly on this planet.
Thinking about it, I should not jump on Amazon and order my mother a clothesline and clips. I should find these items used at GoodWill.
Enough.
Be well.
Write. You'll be surprised at what you uncover. Share your stories with me.
Allison
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