Just Thursday.
“Each of us is more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.”
― Bryan Stevenson, Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption
Mood & Aesthetic
Today, the first screenings of Just Mercy will be in theaters here in Philadelphia. I’m looking forward to the dramatization of Bryan Stevenson’s influential 2014 book on the case of Walter McMillian. I think that both Michael B. Jordan and Jamie Foxx will do excellent jobs at portraying attorney and client, and plan to see the film during opening weekend.
I have been thinking a lot about justice in the lives of “ordinary-everyday-regular” folks. In my personal life, I listen to family, close friends, and coworkers narrate small injustices on a daily basis: a slight from a neighbor, student, faculty member, or colleague; the feeling that one has been continually passed over for someone more favored; the lack of regard from a parent or a lover. In turn, I narrate my own slights. Some, a pinpick; others, a paper cut. Still others leave lasting wounds. All of these matter.
There are the injustices borne from trauma and grief. In midlife, I have found that my friendships have much more depth than when I was younger, but so many of those I care a lot about are going through the unimaginable. Hamilton has rightly been critiqued for its humanizing portrayal of the Founders, but Lin-Manuel Miranda’s writing is brilliant; I have been feeling Renee-as-Angelica’s words in “It’s Quiet Uptown” in my soul: “There are moments that the words don’t reach. There is suffering too terrible to name.” All you can do is hold space and fill it with care.
Then there are the injustices borne from structural inequality. There are things about ourselves, and our circumstances, that we just can’t help: what we look like, where we were born, how we grew up, how much education we were able to attain, the way that our bodies and minds work, who our hearts and bodies are most drawn to, what we do when we lift up our souls in worship…
In a world that is broken, the very things about us that make our hearts beat, that fill our lungs with breath, that formed in the womb with our mothers’ love, that were there when we drew in our first breaths and those awaiting rejoiced, that God and the universe treasure are the things that make justice elusive.
Looking around this broken world at the start of a new year and decade, there is much to break our hearts. Everywhere we look, there is suffering. Australia is on fire. Indonesia is under water. Bolivia suffers under repression. The ground beneath Puerto Rico has shaken again and again…
…and here, a president who (in the words of Stevie Wonder) is “playing with bombs like kids play with toys” continues our nation's imperial aggression in the name of “freedom” and “democracy.” Never mind that fewer than half of those who were able to get to the polls agreed to his leadership. The blood has splashed on our hands anyway.
(“You don’t care about people in other countries!” we hear. To which I reply, “You seem to think that we actually care about the people in this one. I assume you haven’t met us? Otherwise, this accusation would be self-evident.”)
Justice seems elusive for the vast majority of humanity these days. Yet around the planet, there is a rising cry. Climate justice. Criminal justice. Reproductive justice. Emotional justice. The scales have long been unbalanced, and soon, a bill will be due.
I wish I had something more uplifting to say this week, but after all, this isn’t an inspirational journal or a self-help blog.
It’s just Thursday.
What I Am Reading
— I am more than 100 pages into my read of Mildred D. Taylor’s conclusion to her epic Logan saga, All the Days Past, All the Days to Come. It is as magnificent as I’d thought it would be. I have longed for a version of Isabel Wilkerson’s The Warmth of Other Suns for younger readers for a long time; this very well may be it. (It also helped to inspire this week’s mood & aesthetic; the Logan family saga is all about justice.)
—Next up is Akwaeke Emezi’s Pet, which I was sent by Gayatri Sethi, colleague extraordinaire and Desi Book Aunty on Instagram (thanks, Gayatri!). It was a National Book Award finalist, so I’m eager for the read. I’ve heard nothing but great things, and wish I’d been able to get to it before publishing my 2019 Penn GSE Best Books for Young Readers.
—While grabbing a new copy of Just Mercy at the campus bookstore, I picked up Sir Philip Pullman’s Daemon Voices: On Stories and Storytelling. Lately, I have been wanting to immerse in books about the craft of writing, but the pace of my schedule leaves little time for it. (I began corresponding with Pullman as a high school teacher in Detroit back in 2003; his advice about writing over the years has been treasured.) Glad to have it in my collection.
—I strongly considered picking up copies of Richard Powers’ The Overstory and The Starless Sea (what titles! how lovely!). The Overstory won the Pulitzer Prize last year, and there’s been so much buzz in the SFF world about the The Starless Sea, but my plan is to attempt the challenge to read books by women and nonbinary writers of color this year. I’m teaching 3 courses, and have to keep up with my wheelhouses, so there will be no time…
—…but still, I’ll make time to read The Starless Sea very soon. :)
— Finally, a bunch of my literary friends were stanning and fanning Tommy Orange’s There, There on a Facebook post this week. If they were true friends, they would have told me about it back in 2018, but as always, the cheese stands alone. I’ve added it to my stack, and the read is highly anticipated.
What I Am Writing
— As of this posting, I have finally sent in the foreword I mentioned last week. It’s less than what such an important book deserves. (Not fishing for compliments. That’s just how the workload and #ProfessorLife have been lately.) Still, it’s something…
—I also have some chapter revisions that I need to get in. Light revisions. However, I also have 2 more chapters that I need to write from scratch this semester, and I am considering writing a third.)
— I’ve been catching up on Research in the Teaching of English editorial work, and emails. Lots of emails. Lots and lots of emails. (I’ve done the equivalent of 2 days’ worth of emails over the past 7 days.)
—Sarah Park Dahlen and I are hard at work editing Harry Potter and the Other! We hope to have news soon. (Since deciding to compile this volume, we’ve both become academic journal editors. Journal editing is more than a notion. Ask us before you take the plunge!)
—I’ve also had some cool writing news that I hope to be able to announce in due course. (Not the novel. Not yet.)
— I actually wrote my agent instead of hiding. And texted him more than once, too! Still need to send him a fresh draft of the Neverending YA Fantasy Novel one day soon. :)
Being/Doing/Going
— Made it to Longwood Gardens’ Christmas light display for the first time. The weather was crisp, and it was wonderful to take a brisk walk at dusk with a sisterfriend who’s also a professor. Always great to catch up over hot chocolate, fresh donuts, and fire pits.
— My biggest task this week has been, and will be, to finalize my syllabi. I will be teaching 3 courses this term: my doctoral seminar, Responding to Literature; my most subscribed master’s elective; Literacy and Illustrated Texts: Picturebooks, Comics, and Graphic Novels (#PennGSEIllustrated on Twitter and Instagram), and a Teachers Institute of Philadelphia course, “The Dark Fantastic: Reading Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Comics to Save the World.” I shared that one over on Facebook; here’s a link to the draft outline of readings.
—I’ve applied for another Writing the Other online course in science fiction and fantasy to take in my copious spare time next month. :) As busy as #ProfessorLife can be, we have to always keep learning.
Word(s) of the Week
Tight. (Have you picked up Torrey Maldonado’s book for all the kids in your life? You should!)
No, really. Tight. I knew this week would be busy, but I didn’t expect it to be this busy. After MLK Day, the whirl doesn’t stop until Memorial Day in Ebonyland. Knowing how spring semesters go, I’ll blink… and it will be summer.
Things are pretty good, though. Life is worlds better than it was just a year ago, in January 2019, when I faced some blows to my health and reputation. 2020 has dawned… gentler than any year of the 2010s.
I can breathe clearly. For now.
(I just wish the entire world could.)