no reprieve

I’m taking a break from Facebook. I start each day by turning on the computer, turning on NPR, and checking my email and updates online. But yesterday there were so many posts about police brutality in Ferguson, MO and all over the country—I just had to stop. I went to the park and had to cross the street to avoid the lech in the liquor store and the construction workers at the end of my block. An ambulance slowly wove its way through traffic and the blaring siren brought tears to my eyes. I’ve had enough. Going to the garden today and maybe the museum. Had lunch with a friend yesterday and she encouraged me to add something “light” to my life. I haven’t figured out just what that will be. Right now I’m listening to the radio and Ta-Nehisi Coates is discussing his article on plunder and reparations. It’s not news to me, but many whites in this country—if they bothered to read the article—were no doubt shocked. Whites and Blacks view things so differently—the former seem unwilling, despite overwhelming evidence, to admit that white supremacy shapes our society: the police force, the courts, the banks, the schools, the publishing industry—and the blogosphere (alcohol is not the problem I have with that SLJ cover). A white “friend” on Facebook recently suggested that self-publishing was like “eating at a local place” rather than holding a sit-in to desegregate a Jim Crow lunch counter. In other words, choosing to self-publish is cowardly and less noble than subjecting myself to abuse and rejection at the hands of racist whites. Which prompted me to repost my 2011 essay on women in publishing.

…when I reflect upon my involvement in the literary world, I find that little of my time and energy has gone toward addressing “the fundamental wrongness of gender disparities.” When everyone in your world is female, gender tends not to be the focus. For me, the main problem isn’t that men are impeding my progress as a writer. The truth is, behind every door that has been closed in my face…there’s another woman.

 

Sometimes that woman looks like me, but more often than not, she doesn’t. She belongs to a different race, a different class, and a different culture…

I don’t mean to suggest that publishing is a white women’s club, nor is it my intent to diminish the very real obstacles faced by women writers. I do feel, however, that when we talk about women in publishing, it’s important to consider who’s climbing, who’s lifting, and who’s being left behind.

Allies are out there and they are valuable to me, but against the overwhelming ignorance and denial, I don’t have much hope these days.

I’m working on a new website and my designer asked me to think of songs, colors, and images that define my visual style. We talked for an hour and then hours later I woke up thinking about plantation ruins. I don’t want to romanticize the plantation; for me, it is a symbol of dominance, exploitation, and brutality. But I like the idea of nature overtaking that symbol. My designer asked me to start a board on Pinterest and so now I’m digging through photos from my four trips to Nevis. The one below was taken at Golden Rock Plantation back in 2003. I was a more hopeful person then, even though I had just finished writing my dissertation on lynching. I wonder how I’ll feel about this country ten years from now…