Brunch on Fridays 6/30

A once a week hearty sampling of my life and lessons I have learned along the way.

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Remember to read through to the end for this week’s recipe!

Bruh.

Yeah, this is gonna be one of those posts.

I recently wrote about how damn hard it is to be a damn advocate in this (paid) post,

Consulting for ABA Centers...

and ain’t shit changed since I wrote that one, it’s still hard af. Only I am gonna talk about it be hard from another angle, or angles:

Feeling as though I have to address every single challenging, difficult, and disappointing thing that occurs in the world, especially as it pertains to Black and/or disabled people and;

feeling as though rest is actually a privilege that many of us don’t have access to.

Let’s dive right in cause I am sure you have places to be or stimulating mobile games to play that are absolutely nothing like the ads that drew you in.

Yes, this shit was hella disappointing, heartbreaking, sets us back decades (or actually just highlights that we haven’t actually come that far at all)…but do I need to talk about it right now? Like RIGHT NOW, right now?

I am, of course, talking about the Supreme Court’s decision to end Affirmative Action. Well, actually they ruled that it’s mad okay to have Affirmative Action by way of legacies, athletes, privilege, etc. just not for Black folk. Law is anti-Black as fuck in a land that is anti-Black as fuck and nowhere near as colorblind as it claims to be.

And colorblindness is some foolery and shittery. Why anyone thinks this is a good thing is beyond me. It’s finding it appropriate to not only dismiss the richness of our culture and our people but also giving a pass to those to ignore our grievances and our cries. The concept of being “colorblind” in terms of racial categorizations is perhaps one of the best examples for how society feeds systems of oppression. Society has taught us, especially racially oppressed groups, that we are little more than our skin. Every single day we are reminded of who we are. Of what they think of us and this skin we’re in. And then America turns around and tells us that they don’t see color. 

What? Get the fuck out of here.

I am not just black in color, I am Black in culture. Claims of colorblindness are attempts to also claim that you cannot possibly be discriminatory because you “do not see color.” But not seeing color IS in fact, discriminatory. You are saying that you do not see me, that you do not see my culture. You are erasing my struggles as well as my history. You are saying that my experiences do not matter because you do not see them. You are choosing to not see my pain. 

And you can claim to not see color, but this doesn’t mean others feel the same, so you are also choosing to ignore a lot of the racial issues that occur. Colorblindness isn’t acceptance or welcoming, it’s erasure. You cannot cure racism by ignoring it and erasing who we are, doing so maintains the structure of white supremacy and does nothing to advance your work. Again, just because your ass wants to pretend race doesn’t matter, doesn’t mean that your neighbors will feel the same.

This Supreme Court is dangerous as shit and it will continue to roll us further and further into the dark that we barely out of in the first place. Hell, I would argue we still kinda in this shit, but whatever.

I ain’t trying to get into all of this right now, and that is the point I am trying to make here: I always feel as though I have to have a comment and/or post about things like this. And sometimes, I just don’t want to say shit. I want to take the time to process things and then, MAYBE respond. But I feel if I don’t put out something, if I don’t make my voice heard on issues that impact Black people so much that I not being the best advocate I can be. And that kind of pressure will wear you the fuck out. I put it on myself and others put it on me as well, when they message me asking for my thoughts on all matters Black people. Or disabled people.

And I get it. I have built a platform that talks about things like this. I encourage my community to address these things. I want them talking about stuff like this.

But my ass is also tired.

And there’s like a million posts on this already. Seriously. Pick one or four hundred of them to absorb. There’s some really good ones out there.

Even though I know there’s more content creators and/or advocates out there talking about this, I still feel this pressure that I must share something. I have to inform the audience that I am in the know on this. That I am paying attention. That I feel as though this is something that matters. And I have to inspire others to want to make their voices heard as well.

This is an immense amount of weight to put on my shoulders.

This is a time in which I honor myself and say, “nah.”

Not today. Later, maybe.

It’s not that I don’t have any thoughts on this. I have so many. It’s not that I haven’t written anything. I have written so much. It’s that I have a life that exists outside of this and I am already not showing up in the best way I know how. I have to prioritize those things in my life that I have neglected. If I say, “just this once.” Or “one more time.” Those things I always say, then I will get wrapped up in it all and those things I neglect will be pushed further and further away.

This is me, trying to love myself and my family enough to say, “someone else has this.”

“I don’t need to be all the things.”

The privilege of rest?

Rest as resistance.

But do we think about the privilege of being able to rest?
How rest doesn’t just come for those whose circumstances don’t allow for them to easily find peace, solitude, and relaxation?
I want to rest.
I know it’s good for me.
I know it refuels me.
Gives me life.
Purpose.
Fulfillment.
Promotes good health.
And yes, resists the systems that would rather I perform to maintain them and rob me of my energy.

But I cannot rest.

This body doesn’t rest well.
Not easily.
This mind is always on.
There’s no switch.
There’s no dial back button.
Just on.
And off.
And I don’t ever like it when it hits the “off.”
Because “off” isn’t rest.
It’s chaos.
It’s burnout.
It’s meltdown.
It’s lost so deep within myself, I see no one and no thing…so dark, and there’s no light.
Raising disabled boys doesn’t induce easy rest.
The planning, the scheduling, the caretaking, the fighting for every accommodation and service, the lack of support, the lack of resources, the worrying…
what does rest look like for someone like me?
How do I acquire this rest they speak of?

I cannot resist these systems with rest because I am often at the mercy of them.
I cannot resist the work that I do and the fight that I have to wage because my family needs the things they need and I have little help to support me in these endeavors.
I show up because I have to show up.
Rest is resistance for the marginalized.
Important and true.

I cannot help but wonder if we stop to think about the privilege of being able to rest?

And I’m talking deliberate, meaningful, purposeful rest…not rest that is the result of crashing.

Where am I going with all of this?

Hell, I don’t know…on a break. I need one. I have been on nonstop for well over a year. I want the space to breathe. I want to write. I need to finish my book proposal and honestly I want to dive deep into writing this book…and the other one. And start on the third one. There’s just so much that I need to do. There’s so much with my family that I need to do.

Although I feel as though rest is plentiful or the act of deliberately choosing to rest is something that comes with greater ease than it would myself, I am going to try anyway. I am going to utilize my manager Anna in the capacity with which she has been trying to get me to use her for months: run my social media while I am away.

Why don’t I just step completely away without posting?

That is such an excellent question. Because I still have a book to promote and a tour to get people hyped up about. I am cognizant enough to know that I still must operate under these systems that require that I don’t completely cut myself off from that which has the potential to support myself and my family. So, to keep myself engaged with my audience while I am away, I am going to have Anna put up a few posts to keep everyone informed on my comings and goings.

I will delete the apps from my phone and ipad. I will check back in when I finish my proposal or when I have some obligation that requires me to be online for a virtual panel or something. Not gonna lie, I am unsure if I have one or not. That’s why I have Anna, she keeps me honest and keeps me on top of things.

I am kinda excited to see how this break works out for me. There’s so many things I am going to be trying while I am away that I cannot wait to share already.

I’m still serving weekly helpings of Tiff and fam on here and Patreon. And probably the occasional sneak peek at what we are doing over this way.

Oh, before I dip out for the weekend, I would like to share a few things that made me smile this past week:

1. Black Lightning. This is a show on CW, but I have been watching it on Netflix. It’s so good, I don’t know why I hadn’t watched it any sooner. It speaks to the heart of the Black American experience. There’s so much conflict, so much complexity in the storytelling. It’s a really good show and if you haven’t seen it, I would check it out if I were you.

2. I had two pieces that I wrote published this week. One for Scary Mommy and one for Romper. I am proud of both pieces. Check them out if you have not already.

3. According to BookScan, which reports 85% of sales, A Day with No Words has sold over 14K copies. That’s pretty amazing. And there are some super awesome surprises coming up in the future that will probably generate more sales. I am just in awe with how well this book has done.

4. I am almost done with finalizing my west coast book tour. I will post the dates and locations soon! Stay tuned for those.

Alright, friends that is all the ranting, hooting, and hollering I got for this week.

This week’s brunch is brought to you by s’mores pancakes. We first made these years ago and they have been a hit ever since.

Here’s the recipe, let me know if you make it!