spring forward

I feel like I’m behind *at least* an hour these days…more like a full week!  Tomorrow I give a presentation in Roni Natov’s “The Child Hero” class at Brooklyn College, and this Saturday I’m giving a paper at the Brooklyn Museum as part of their “Feminism Now” conference.  I had hoped to interview the artist, but that didn’t work out so now I just need to sit down, focus, and write ten pages by the end of today.  My powerpoint is almost done, and I’m thrilled to be including photos of the radical performance of my good friend Gabrielle Civil; she came to Mt. Holyoke in 2006 and blew me and my students away!  James Baldwin said, “Trust your experience,” so that’s what I’m going to do.  I have no choice, really–I’m not an art historian, or a curator.  I’m more of a literary critic, but I need to confront my anxiety around the display of black women’s bodies.  Is the black female body always/already in jeopardy?  Where does that leave the desire of some women to *be seen*?  Why do some women enjoy being looked at, even to the point of self-objectification?  And what does my anxiety about such displays say about ME?

I was grumpy yesterday morning after getting my taxes done and learning that I *owe* the government for the first time in years…then I reached the office, opened my inbox, and found a message from the Brooklyn Public Library: they’re going to add A Wish After Midnight to their collection!  In about a month’s time, the book should be on the shelves and free to all…