This is art -----> "I’m making this personal because everything I read these days is like a punch in the gut. I feel it. I hate it. And I hate even more my own impotence. I’m the mother who wants to comfort every single innocent person this regime has singled out for persecution. I’m the child crying out in pain and fear. I’m a citizen who grew up believing decency would eventually prevail. I’m the old woman who watches in disbelief as everything I’ve worked my entire life to protect withers and dies under the dirty thumbs of unworthy, dictatorial men in power."
That piece on Gayl Jones is incredible. So powerful, but more than that, Imani Perry puts herself into it and serves beautifully as a buffer and not an apologist for Jones, who doesn't feel the need to correct or reveal any part of her history she wants to keep private.
I loved those last paragraphs where Perry longs to get into Jones's life but at the same time admires her for wanting to keep her distance. Brilliant. The whole piece.
You are a fast reader! Kudos. I'm glad you appreciated it as I did.
I think this is art. Those of us who have heart, who love creativity, who know words, who feel deeply. The more we share, the more fire there is for change. The news isn't always the news. We forget that there is money to be made, getting us riled up and worried. When I graduated from UCB in '82, I remember writing after I took off my cap and gown, "Will questioning continue to both create and destroy?"
I've been looking through old things I wrote.
I found this from 2009:
"Listen to the internal. We don't know the future. Can the government fix the issues and problems? Can the different sides ever put down their egos long enough to find solutions? Our solution has to be how we wake up with ourselves in the morning… with mind, heart, and fingers intact, creating the best we have for others and those we love."
"Those of us who have heart, who love creativity, who know words, who feel deeply. The more we share, the more fire there is for change." This is so beautifully put.
I love what you wrote in 2009, as well.
Advocacy as art is tricky business, especially for the artist who believes in sharing it to the world, only to see the world pass it by.
What keeps us going is each other. It would be terrible to think there were no others like us out there.
The authors we're talking about here go above and beyond, sometimes threatening their own well-being, and it's up to those of us who see the struggle and appreciate the effort to keep their legacies going. It's the least we can do for them.
I agree with you. It's easy to criticize others. I've found the people that get hostile on the judgment wagon are often trying to cover up their own insecurities. I was reading something a teacher wrote about a Chiron workshop she's doing. My Chiron is in the 11th house: "Black Sheep." She says people with this placement don't realize how different they are from the others. They want to do what they feel is right, but they also want to be acceptable to others.
I've learned acceptance, or wanting it, is a two-edged sword. We feel good acceptance will encourage our output, and bad acceptance, aka rejection, will stop us in our tracks.
I think as we age, we see things we saw earlier but were perhaps afraid to voice our approval. Especially on taboo subjects. But as the decades accumulate under our belt, pictures stack up in our albums, we see more clearly where we veered from our truth or where our truth knocked and knocked and knocked.
Every spiritual/religious leader says, "I've met all kinds of people on their deathbeds. They never wished they could have worked more. They wish they had loved more, accepted more love from others, and been brave enough to be themselves."
There's so much truth in 'We feel good acceptance will encourage our output, and bad acceptance, aka rejection, will stop us in our tracks.'
It's the way I've operated all of my life, never having outgrown it from childhood, I suppose, (I was the one who wanted everyone around me to be happy) and, really, though I talk a good game, nothing has changed.
I'm energized by approval and totally withered by rejection.
I think most sensitive writers feel that way. Some claim to be able to overcome it but many famous, established writers still talk about their hurt feelings when a group or even a single person criticizes their work.
Did Morrison and Jones feel it, too? I'm sure they did. But they moved on with a kind of sheer will I'm not sure I could ever manage. It's not that they're even so sure of what they're doing. Morrison has written before about her doubts about her work but--call it stubbornness or tenacity--she kept going.
I understand what you are saying. Intellectually I understand that we need to approve of our process more than we need the juice coming from others. I didn't know Morrison felt doubt. I watched her on the PBS American Masters and didn't get that feeling from her. She also got into a rhythm early, like Jones, that was supported by those seeing their talent. That makes a difference. Morrison was given editorial and publishing access and empowerment, early on in her process.
In psychology, there is a studied human trait, the negativity halo.
We might receive 47 likes but the 1 or 2 thumbs down is what we will obsess about.
"A negative form of the halo effect, called the horn effect, the devil effect, or the reverse halo effect, allows one a disliked trait or aspect of a person or product to negatively influence globally. Psychologists call it a "bias blind spot:" "Individuals believe (that negative) traits are inter-connected." WikiP
If we were always looking for approval, we don't know any other way. Did Steve Jobs feel doubt? Did Leonardo DaVinci feel doubt? Women doubt much more than men because women were controlled and put in their place for centuries, and that carries over unless consciously stopped.
Change is difficult. Is there a message burning within to be shared? Or is it the process of creativity that you like?
Needing approval makes us vulnerable. Did we come at this time to be vulnerable or were we taught being vulnerable and that there is a way of outgrowing it? I think the latter is the key. Being willing to change old patterns, is the key. Wherever we are wounded, figuring that out, finding the fix, and implementing the fix is what the healthiest lives display and share!
This is such a powerful piece in so many ways - you really capture that 3 o'clock in the morning swirling, clenching anxiety that wakes us for no reason and then lingers throughout the next day. (I just had this happen last night so I completely relate to all you say here!)
The lovely C.S.Lewis said "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear" and he is so right.
But when I am not feeling overwhelmed by the news/getting older/ the sheer terror of losing those I love and a whole raft of other worries, I try to remind myself that consistently doing tiny acts of goodness (like your writing here!) every day, where we live, as we can, is enough - and frankly, all that we *can* do. Not being trite in any way, just saying what helps me. Sometimes. I also benefit from the occasional news "fast" because without a bit of reprieve from all the bleakness, yes, it's really hard not to sink.
Speranza, the C.S Lewis quote is so spot on. I hadn't thought of my grief as part of my fear, but it could be true. It hasn't been a year yet, and I'm still raw.
But I wrote this piece in 2019. I was fearful then, too. I'm in a kind of rage that it has only gotten worse, but at the same time my point here is to celebrate and elevate writing that addresses the issues of the day in ways so brilliant it becomes art and literature and thus endures.
You mentioned "being tired of saying 'We’re better than this' when we’re not." That is my sadness - it is who we are now. I have a great granddaughter - what will her future be like?
I watch in horror as everything I believed to be true no longer matters to so many in power- basic things like honesty, integrity, and kindness. I feel totally powerless to change this trajectory - other than to be who I am and add my support to writers who see what I see.
I think that's my biggest disappointment--that nothing much changed for our most vulnerable citizens after the Democrats took over. Too much red tape and closing of eyes to urgent needs, not recognizing there were human emergencies out there that went far beyond simple Band-Aid fixes.
The poor are getting poorer, women are still seen as chattel, black men are still being mowed down in the street, guns are still not illegal, and public education is still being threatened.
Now that the GOP owns the House the moment to deliver is gone. Though I'm still behind the Democrats and always will be, they didn't rise to the needs the way I was sure they would. Much of my frustration stems from that. I don't know how much more of it I want to get involved in. It's like batting my head against a wall, hoping the pain will stop.
I too was hoping for more and agree that the chance or the moment has passed. I am not watching television as I used to - it is just too painful. We seem to have taken steps backward - back in the 1950's.
"...Believing decency would eventually prevail." I still believe this, but I have to keep reminding myself that it may not look the way I think it will look. The trail of destruction left by a runaway train is a horrifying scene. I can only hope - and hope I must - that a new flower will emerge from beneath the wreckage one day and our grandchildren's children will call it Decency. I appreciate you, Ramona. You and your bravery.
Feb 24, 2023·edited Feb 25, 2023Liked by Ramona Grigg
Great piece, Ramona, thanks for sharing. I haven't checked out all of Morrison's work, but I've loved every word I've read. What a voice.
And, I'm with you. It's all so exhausting. And disappointing. I have a 2.5 year old and I worry every day about her future in our country. Not that the parents of previous generations DIDN'T worry. But I feel like this is different. I've been told that it's different. That the country is different, and that it isn't just some bit of imagining I'm doing.
I don't know what the future will bring for my family. Maybe there's a day that we do what so many right-wing cheerleaders on Twitter shout for those calling out indecencies to do, and move elsewhere.
Sometimes the stakes just feel far too high. A five-year-old worrying about being shot to death in the classroom?
No. No way. That shouldn't be a thing.
So often these days I feel like I'm saying to anyone who'll listen, "Maybe it's now. Maybe now's the time to leave." Which would certainly require bravery, though of a different variety.
I wish I had more to add, some tidy little bow to put near the top. But I don't. Because the truth is that I'm not just worried; I'm scared.
I fear for my own grandchildren, too. I feel for anyone trying to raise children these days and can't even imagine the fear you must feel every single day. Yet hope is all around us and there are enough of us who are still stubborn and won't give up.
"Look to the helpers" Mr. Rogers said, and I still believe that.
This is art -----> "I’m making this personal because everything I read these days is like a punch in the gut. I feel it. I hate it. And I hate even more my own impotence. I’m the mother who wants to comfort every single innocent person this regime has singled out for persecution. I’m the child crying out in pain and fear. I’m a citizen who grew up believing decency would eventually prevail. I’m the old woman who watches in disbelief as everything I’ve worked my entire life to protect withers and dies under the dirty thumbs of unworthy, dictatorial men in power."
Earlier this week, I read an article on Gayl Jones in the NYT 9/17/2021. I couldn't stop reading. Every voice matters and how strong the tendency is to squash that which disturbs the status quo. https://www.nytimes.com/2021/09/17/magazine/gayl-jones-novel-palmares.html
That piece on Gayl Jones is incredible. So powerful, but more than that, Imani Perry puts herself into it and serves beautifully as a buffer and not an apologist for Jones, who doesn't feel the need to correct or reveal any part of her history she wants to keep private.
I loved those last paragraphs where Perry longs to get into Jones's life but at the same time admires her for wanting to keep her distance. Brilliant. The whole piece.
Thanks so much.
You are a fast reader! Kudos. I'm glad you appreciated it as I did.
I think this is art. Those of us who have heart, who love creativity, who know words, who feel deeply. The more we share, the more fire there is for change. The news isn't always the news. We forget that there is money to be made, getting us riled up and worried. When I graduated from UCB in '82, I remember writing after I took off my cap and gown, "Will questioning continue to both create and destroy?"
I've been looking through old things I wrote.
I found this from 2009:
"Listen to the internal. We don't know the future. Can the government fix the issues and problems? Can the different sides ever put down their egos long enough to find solutions? Our solution has to be how we wake up with ourselves in the morning… with mind, heart, and fingers intact, creating the best we have for others and those we love."
"Those of us who have heart, who love creativity, who know words, who feel deeply. The more we share, the more fire there is for change." This is so beautifully put.
I love what you wrote in 2009, as well.
Advocacy as art is tricky business, especially for the artist who believes in sharing it to the world, only to see the world pass it by.
What keeps us going is each other. It would be terrible to think there were no others like us out there.
The authors we're talking about here go above and beyond, sometimes threatening their own well-being, and it's up to those of us who see the struggle and appreciate the effort to keep their legacies going. It's the least we can do for them.
I agree with you. It's easy to criticize others. I've found the people that get hostile on the judgment wagon are often trying to cover up their own insecurities. I was reading something a teacher wrote about a Chiron workshop she's doing. My Chiron is in the 11th house: "Black Sheep." She says people with this placement don't realize how different they are from the others. They want to do what they feel is right, but they also want to be acceptable to others.
I've learned acceptance, or wanting it, is a two-edged sword. We feel good acceptance will encourage our output, and bad acceptance, aka rejection, will stop us in our tracks.
I think as we age, we see things we saw earlier but were perhaps afraid to voice our approval. Especially on taboo subjects. But as the decades accumulate under our belt, pictures stack up in our albums, we see more clearly where we veered from our truth or where our truth knocked and knocked and knocked.
Every spiritual/religious leader says, "I've met all kinds of people on their deathbeds. They never wished they could have worked more. They wish they had loved more, accepted more love from others, and been brave enough to be themselves."
There's so much truth in 'We feel good acceptance will encourage our output, and bad acceptance, aka rejection, will stop us in our tracks.'
It's the way I've operated all of my life, never having outgrown it from childhood, I suppose, (I was the one who wanted everyone around me to be happy) and, really, though I talk a good game, nothing has changed.
I'm energized by approval and totally withered by rejection.
I think most sensitive writers feel that way. Some claim to be able to overcome it but many famous, established writers still talk about their hurt feelings when a group or even a single person criticizes their work.
Did Morrison and Jones feel it, too? I'm sure they did. But they moved on with a kind of sheer will I'm not sure I could ever manage. It's not that they're even so sure of what they're doing. Morrison has written before about her doubts about her work but--call it stubbornness or tenacity--she kept going.
I understand what you are saying. Intellectually I understand that we need to approve of our process more than we need the juice coming from others. I didn't know Morrison felt doubt. I watched her on the PBS American Masters and didn't get that feeling from her. She also got into a rhythm early, like Jones, that was supported by those seeing their talent. That makes a difference. Morrison was given editorial and publishing access and empowerment, early on in her process.
In psychology, there is a studied human trait, the negativity halo.
We might receive 47 likes but the 1 or 2 thumbs down is what we will obsess about.
That is human nature.
https://thedecisionlab.com/biases/negativity-bias
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/stretching-theory/202110/the-halo-effect-what-it-is-and-how-beat-it
"A negative form of the halo effect, called the horn effect, the devil effect, or the reverse halo effect, allows one a disliked trait or aspect of a person or product to negatively influence globally. Psychologists call it a "bias blind spot:" "Individuals believe (that negative) traits are inter-connected." WikiP
If we were always looking for approval, we don't know any other way. Did Steve Jobs feel doubt? Did Leonardo DaVinci feel doubt? Women doubt much more than men because women were controlled and put in their place for centuries, and that carries over unless consciously stopped.
Change is difficult. Is there a message burning within to be shared? Or is it the process of creativity that you like?
Needing approval makes us vulnerable. Did we come at this time to be vulnerable or were we taught being vulnerable and that there is a way of outgrowing it? I think the latter is the key. Being willing to change old patterns, is the key. Wherever we are wounded, figuring that out, finding the fix, and implementing the fix is what the healthiest lives display and share!
This is such a powerful piece in so many ways - you really capture that 3 o'clock in the morning swirling, clenching anxiety that wakes us for no reason and then lingers throughout the next day. (I just had this happen last night so I completely relate to all you say here!)
The lovely C.S.Lewis said "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear" and he is so right.
But when I am not feeling overwhelmed by the news/getting older/ the sheer terror of losing those I love and a whole raft of other worries, I try to remind myself that consistently doing tiny acts of goodness (like your writing here!) every day, where we live, as we can, is enough - and frankly, all that we *can* do. Not being trite in any way, just saying what helps me. Sometimes. I also benefit from the occasional news "fast" because without a bit of reprieve from all the bleakness, yes, it's really hard not to sink.
Speranza, the C.S Lewis quote is so spot on. I hadn't thought of my grief as part of my fear, but it could be true. It hasn't been a year yet, and I'm still raw.
But I wrote this piece in 2019. I was fearful then, too. I'm in a kind of rage that it has only gotten worse, but at the same time my point here is to celebrate and elevate writing that addresses the issues of the day in ways so brilliant it becomes art and literature and thus endures.
Thanks for your thoughts, as always!
You mentioned "being tired of saying 'We’re better than this' when we’re not." That is my sadness - it is who we are now. I have a great granddaughter - what will her future be like?
I watch in horror as everything I believed to be true no longer matters to so many in power- basic things like honesty, integrity, and kindness. I feel totally powerless to change this trajectory - other than to be who I am and add my support to writers who see what I see.
I think that's my biggest disappointment--that nothing much changed for our most vulnerable citizens after the Democrats took over. Too much red tape and closing of eyes to urgent needs, not recognizing there were human emergencies out there that went far beyond simple Band-Aid fixes.
The poor are getting poorer, women are still seen as chattel, black men are still being mowed down in the street, guns are still not illegal, and public education is still being threatened.
Now that the GOP owns the House the moment to deliver is gone. Though I'm still behind the Democrats and always will be, they didn't rise to the needs the way I was sure they would. Much of my frustration stems from that. I don't know how much more of it I want to get involved in. It's like batting my head against a wall, hoping the pain will stop.
I too was hoping for more and agree that the chance or the moment has passed. I am not watching television as I used to - it is just too painful. We seem to have taken steps backward - back in the 1950's.
Thank you for the reminder that, even if some days it’s only in a tiny way, we don’t succumb.
You're welcome. I need that reminder all too often myself!
"...Believing decency would eventually prevail." I still believe this, but I have to keep reminding myself that it may not look the way I think it will look. The trail of destruction left by a runaway train is a horrifying scene. I can only hope - and hope I must - that a new flower will emerge from beneath the wreckage one day and our grandchildren's children will call it Decency. I appreciate you, Ramona. You and your bravery.
Yes to all you've said here and a belated thank you!
Beautiful, searing piece.
What does it mean to "Do justice, love mercy, walk humbly with your God" in the midst of cruelty, waste, violence, and indifference?
I haven't a clue. Maybe our daily work--our only work--is trying to find the answer to that question.
Great piece, Ramona, thanks for sharing. I haven't checked out all of Morrison's work, but I've loved every word I've read. What a voice.
And, I'm with you. It's all so exhausting. And disappointing. I have a 2.5 year old and I worry every day about her future in our country. Not that the parents of previous generations DIDN'T worry. But I feel like this is different. I've been told that it's different. That the country is different, and that it isn't just some bit of imagining I'm doing.
I don't know what the future will bring for my family. Maybe there's a day that we do what so many right-wing cheerleaders on Twitter shout for those calling out indecencies to do, and move elsewhere.
Sometimes the stakes just feel far too high. A five-year-old worrying about being shot to death in the classroom?
No. No way. That shouldn't be a thing.
So often these days I feel like I'm saying to anyone who'll listen, "Maybe it's now. Maybe now's the time to leave." Which would certainly require bravery, though of a different variety.
I wish I had more to add, some tidy little bow to put near the top. But I don't. Because the truth is that I'm not just worried; I'm scared.
I fear for my own grandchildren, too. I feel for anyone trying to raise children these days and can't even imagine the fear you must feel every single day. Yet hope is all around us and there are enough of us who are still stubborn and won't give up.
"Look to the helpers" Mr. Rogers said, and I still believe that.
Love that. Look to the helpers, indeed 🙂