I’m Outraged. Now What?

So, you’ve been on Facebook and Twitter over the last two days, and maybe you’ve seen your US friends posting furiously about Alton Sterling and Philando Castile. You might’ve read many articles and watched the videos (if you are not Black, then I encourage you strongly to watch the videos. They are harrowing, but necessary for an understanding of how Black people in the US are treated regularly). And now you’re enraged, heartsore, a whirlwind of emotions, but you don’t know what to do next.

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Some reading over Memorial Day weekend

It’s miserable weather here in Houston. Day 2 of a raging thunderstorm sees the dogs cowering next to me at my writing table, and the children home.

Last night was more than a little rough, with periodic alarms from flash flood warnings punctuating my sleep, and an automated phone call from the school at 4.29am (I checked) to report countywide school closures due to flooding and power outages. So today I’ve been catching up on reading various articles.

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Rewriting the Past

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With the beating of a butterfly’s wings…

In my previous post, I talked about being prompted to write a note to my 13 year old self. I was asked what I would say to 13 year old me, and I responded with as much honesty as I could. But it got me thinking; if I did have the opportunity to speak to my younger self, what would I actually say?

Would younger me even listen to older me?

How would I have changed the trajectory of my own life, my own experiences by having that conversation?

It was a great exercise, an opportunity for catharsis and forgiveness, a chance to treat myself with greater kindness than I did then, or do even now. It’s easier to speak with gentleness to a 13 year old, just starting her journey into womanhood, waking to her nascent sexuality, tentatively exploring the edges of her personality. It’s harder extending that gentleness to myself in each moment now.

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A Note to my 13 Year Old Self

 

at age 15 (I couldn’t find one aged 13)

 

It’s Wednesday and already it’s been a long week. With one thing after another piling up and nagging at me to catch up and keep up. There’s a point here, bear with me! My clever, funny, powerhouse friend Avital runs a weekly column over at SheKnows called Ask A Raging Feminist. Each week Avital asks a group of intelligent, funny, strong women a different question. I’ve had the great pleasure of contributing a few times. These are women I admire and love, so I feel very fortunate to be counted amongst their ranks.

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Wikipedia’s list of common misconceptions

Sometimes, the Internet comes together in a beautiful dance of oddities. This wikipedia page is a perfect example of that.

Why sear meat?

Can MSG give you migraines?

Do Twinkies last forever?

Do you have to wait 24 hours before filing a missing person’s report?

What is the forbidden fruit?

This answers to these and more are here, on Wikipedia’s List of Common Misconceptions.

El Sibonéy

 

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Yellowtail filet with yellow rice and fried plantains at El Sibonéy ©Asha Rajan

Our second day of vacation in Key West, we Yelped for restaurants not too far away (always a criterion when moody teenagers are in tow), and El Sibonéy came up. The rating was good, though not stellar, but the reviews piqued our interest. They were resoundingly good.

We headed out for a late-ish lunch, bellies rumbling, tempers just beginning to fray. Only a very few confused, hangry directions later, we found this unassuming treasure.

The building’s a brick 1970s home, gutted and converted into this bustling Cuban restaurant. From the outside, apart from the snaking line of waiting diners, there’s nothing to suggest that this is somewhere you might obtain an actual meal.

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New year blues

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Happy new year! Which path are you taking for 2016?

So here we are, at the end of the first week of the new year, and I’m already talking about depression. Unfathomable, right? Or is it really? After all, we have just come out the other side of effectively two months of US holidays.

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Irrational Fears (and rational ones too)

Lemon Shark ©Willy Volk on Flickr

My friend Travis of The Fisher of Stories is talking about some of his fears. You should go check out his post. Have a look around while you’re there, and say ‘hi!’ from me. His fears seem to be rational and have a basis in reality.

Mine, however, are mostly not.

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Are bindis the tip of the cultural appropriation iceberg?

I’m testing out Facebook’s revamped Notes feature and riffing on bindis and questions cultural appropriation. Apologies if you’re reading a duplicate version of this piece, but it’s a useful way for me to track traffic.

I read this (linked) article this morning and it got me thinking about the wearing of bindis and other cultural markers, and where homage ends and cultural appropriation begins.

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The things I was never going to do…

When I was in my teens, I knew I never wanted to be a teacher.  My father was a teacher, many of my uncles were teachers, my cousins were teachers, there were teachers everywhere I looked.  I knew with the certainty of  teenagehood that the last profession on Earth I would ever enter would be teaching.

When I was 22, I finished a graduate diploma in teaching.

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