Day 86 - Shaking My Head

One of the questions in the interview to be a citizen is "What is the name of the president of the United States now?"  I posed that question to the man I am working with who is studying to be a citizen.  When he replied "Donald Trump," I shook my head from side to side, and he was surprised.  "That is wrong?"  

"No, that is right."  I shook my head again.

He nodded.  He understood.

Day 85 - Beach

A pretty day at the beach. It was sort of relaxing, but it was disquieting, too. Strange to be out in the world and on edge about avoiding people.  It would be easy to pretend that everything is okay.  But it’s not. 

As I was lying on the beach, I checked my work email and learned that I’ll be teaching remotely this fall. The disconnect between that enormous news and the carefree attitude of the people on the beach was difficult to process. 

Day 84 - Kite and Puppy Party

I declared Day 84, June 7, my birthday observed.

I had ordered a bunch of kites so that my friends and I could fly them at an appropriate social distance.  In order to have the kite party, I needed just the right weather, so I chose a day that looked like it might be nice.  It was!  It was a beautiful day. 

We hung out near the Netherlands Carillon under a big shady tree.  We sprawled on the grass and chatted idly.  H brought foster puppies, and we lolled alongside them.

We ran, coaxing our kites to fly, and even got them up in the air, rainbow shapes and waving tails against a blue sky. 

It was so nice to see all my people.

Day 83 - Balance

I called my 98 year old friend on Day 83.  I try to call him every week or so to check in and see how he's doing.  We chat about health and family.  We talk about the weather and my students.  I was going to steer away from politics, but I couldn't help but ask him what he thinks of what is going on in the news.  Whenever we talk, I try to listen to what he thinks because he has had such a long and interesting life.  

I often disagree with what he says about people of color, and I wasn't surprised to hear that he doesn't support the protests.  What struck me is how much of what he says comes directly from Fox News' talking points.  He thinks that everything is blown out of proportion.  He thinks that "they" are taking over D.C.  I wondered if that was a reference to Mayor Bowser writing BLACK LIVES MATTER on 16th St in front of the White House.  I told him that there are already quite a lot of black people in D.C.  I kept quiet about gentrification and how the numbers are actually falling . . . He was worried about the Democrats trying to get rid of the police.  He also reminded me that he had a break-in a few weeks ago, and it was a "Spanish man."  And that the arresting officer was also "Spanish."  

But in addition to the racist commentary, he also talked about his life experiences.  His Fox News commentary sometimes contrasts with what he says about people in his life.  He spent time in the military working with people of color.  His daughters had black friends over to the house.  He talked about how Native Americans are treated poorly and his concerns about them.  Earlier in the conversation, he had talked with me about how I was learning Spanish and reminded me of his travels around South America and told me that he had once studied Spanish, which I didn't know.

He kept trying to rein himself in, telling me he shouldn't get going.  I tried to balance my desire to be respectful with my commitment to not tolerate prejudice.  I didn't tell him that I went downtown to express my solidarity with the protesters.  Maybe I should have.  Maybe I will.

Day 82 - Connection

I sent my African American Literature students a message today asking how they are and whether they want to have a Zoom session to discuss the protests.  Within moments, I got back several messages thanking me for asking about them and telling me how they are feeling.  The responses are heartbreaking.  I do not feel the pain that African Americans feel right now.  I can't possibly.  But I am trying to listen hard. I hope we will be able to have a productive session.  I want students to lead it, to make it their own.

Day 81 - My Socially Distanced Protest

I woke up early and drove down to DC.  I was there so early that I practically broke the nightly curfew that is intended to control unruly protests in the wee hours.  Holding my little cardboard rectangle that said BLM, I walked (marched?) through the quiet, nearly empty streets from the Mall to the White House by myself, greeting the construction workers, security guards, and joggers who were out as the sun rose. 

As I approached the White House, I encountered some boarded up stores and hotels.  The plywood was tidy, though.  One hotel had carefully placed Black Lives Matter placards in the center of each plywood slab.

Graffiti marred the Treasury Building.  

BLACK LIVES MATTER 

We Are UNARMED!

FUCK the system

I CAN'T BREATH

The English teacher in me wanted to correct that last one, but I hadn't brought my own paint.

The office buildings downtown are usually so pristine that the tagging stands out especially starkly.  Given the number and size of the protests that have taken place recently, the area was remarkably free of trash.  I came across a worker who was picking up the few empty bottles and refuse.  I thanked him.

I stood before St. John's, the beautiful yellow church.  I posed for a selfie in front of the church with my sign, near the spot where Trump had brandished a Bible earlier in the week after police had cleared out the park using tear gas against peaceful protesters.

Lafayette Park across from the White House is completely barricaded off with high black fencing.  It looks like a cage, but the atmosphere was definitely not threatening.  A few bored and tired looking officers were slumped on a bench in the park, their riot shields off to the side.  There was no particular police presence at 7am, which makes sense because only two protesters remained from the previous night, a couple of punk white kids leaning against a shopping cart packed with supplies--granola bars and moon pies--with a little sign reading "Black Lives Matter."  I sat down 6 feet away from them and talked to them.  They had been up all night and were glad to see me.  "Are you the next shift?"  After we chatted a few minutes, the exhausted girl croaked out "Hands up!"  I answered quietly, "Don't shoot."

Just a few feet further down the road were two blissed-out evangelical Christians dancing in trances to some crackling godly music.  The biggest crowd was the journalists who were setting up their live shots for the day with lots of heavy camera equipment.  Someone from Univision took a shot of me sitting there on the ground with the White House behind me.  A young woman walked around with a box of Krispy Kremes and came over to me and the punks.  She offered the doughnuts around, and inside the box was written YOU MATTER.  "They're fresh," she said.  I didn't think I had earned one.

I walked on back to my car and drove home.

I don't think I did much to end systemic racism, but I bore witness.  I feel as though I participated a little.  I showed up in some capacity.  I exercised my right to speak out.

  

Day 80 - A Nap

Today I finally got tired.  After watching and reading the news around the clock for a week, I tucked into bed at 1pm for an hour.  Everything felt better after that.  And then I got up and persevered.  

Day 79 - Paving in Suburbia

They're paving my street.  Those are the uniforms on my street.  Not uniformed officers, just some guys with dayglo vests working hard in the heat, spreading tar, making the road smooth.  Meanwhile:

Day 78 - Race in the Classroom

Protests continue.  Today, police used tear gas on peaceful demonstrators outside the White House so that Trump could have a photo op outside a nearby church while holding a Bible.  These actions are terrifying.

I met with most of my students in conferences on Day 78.  I'm struggling with how to talk with them about the murder of George Floyd and the response.  I had so much to accomplish during our conferences that I didn't really have time to check in with them.  Ordinarily, I like to integrate current events into the classroom, so maybe I will try to do something in my class meeting tomorrow.  The Zoom format does not lend itself well to organic conversations with 25 people, though.

As for my online African American literature class, that is even more difficult.  Students will soon have to write a discussion post about Ida B. Wells-Barnett and how her investigative journalism on documenting and speaking against lynching relates to modern times.  That will definitely be a guided way for them to analyze the situation.  I've put up an open discussion but not many people have participated.  I need to get more creative, but it feels so paralyzing and overwhelming that I'm not sure what to do even though I think having conversations about race right now is so vital.

Day 77 - 9.4 Miles

9.4 miles stretch between me and the White House.  It would take me 15 minutes to drive from my cozy suburban house to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.  I wanted to go demonstrate during the day, but I am too concerned about catching the virus.  I shudder to see people packed in together.  I yearn to support the voices who are speaking out.  But I didn't go there yesterday during the sunny day of non-violent protests, and I didn't go there last night while fires raged and tear gas was sprayed in Lafayette Park.  

Instead, I sat perched on the edge of my couch.  It is odd to watch the unfolding drama on television and to feel so distant.  I found myself flipping back and forth between MSNBC and CNN, trying to follow the events in D.C., getting impatient when the camera flipped to other tense cities across the nation.