spread love

Tomorrow I’m heading back to Massachusetts to participate in Clark University’s Youth Summit. There’s snow on the ground there right now, but I think we’re expecting rain by Thursday. This spring has been very unpredictable and as I noted yesterday, I’ve been all over the map, too! I don’t enjoy traveling but I love being in new places, and I’m really looking forward to meeting the diverse kids who live in Worcester, MA. I interviewed for an academic job there years ago and it felt very white, so I’m happy to hear the city’s kids come from many different communities. I’ve got a couple more train journeys coming up (Philly on the 16th and Baltimore next month) and I *just* checked the price of an airline ticket to Stockholm! I didn’t get into the residency in Denmark so I went online and searched for writing residencies near Birka, which is where the Viking woman wearing the Islamic ring was found. Turns out there’s a writers retreat ON the island of Birka and I’m hoping I can manage to spend a week there this summer.

Last week I wrote a guest post for a kid lit blog and felt really good about it once it was done. I also knew that it was probably too radical for that particular blog and sure enough, they took a pass. Binder friends gave me some great suggestions and the essay caught the attention of a Black women’s website, but when I didn’t hear back from them, I decided to post it on HuffPo. You can read “What’s LOVE Got to Do with It?” there, and here’s a little taste:

For me, self-publishing is a radical act of self-care because it redirects my energy away from a toxic engagement with those who are oblivious to the “urgencies” of my community (I am indebted to Robin Bernstein for this definition of obliviousness: “not merely an absence of knowledge, but an active state of repelling knowledge”). Self-publishing stops me from knocking on a door that will never open—or only open grudgingly.

Telling my own stories in my own way is also, for me, the ultimate act of self-love because it is an act of resistance. It is a rejection of the implicit messages editors send along with their “Thanks, but no thanks”: you’re not worthy, you’re not one of us, you have nothing meaningful or important to say.