Sunday, November 22, 2015

A Year Without Tamir

This morning LB woke up next to me, "Mama, it's morning, it's morning." "Why don't you get up and play, I'll be up in a minute." And she did, I got up a half hour later, and she was dressed, waiting expectantly with a stuffed unicorn under her arm-only five hours early for our playdate.  I made breakfast.  I argued about the number of shows a child should watch.

What didn't I do this morning? I didn't wonder if she would be safe on our playground.  I live in the world of white mothers.

In another world, Samaria Rice should be arguing with her son about church clothes, or telling him not to eat so fast.

In this world, she is mourning a child she will never hold again.

Tamir Rice, a black child murdered on a playground by a police officer.  A family mourning.  A child buried.  But no charges. No trial.

If we don't disrupt this world, we perpetuate it.  We raise our white children to perpetuate the structures of racism, and to make the choices that leave a black child dead on a playground.

Petition: Justice for Tamir Rice

"A Bronzeville Mother Loiters in Mississippi. Meanwhile, a Mississippi Mother Burns the Bacon."

Showing Up For Racial Jusice

Wednesday, November 11, 2015


No time to compose, so I'm just going for it.

Providence doesn't really seem to celebrate Veterans' Day in any big public way.  That seems like a shame.  I thought there would be a parade I could take LB to.

I figured out to check out e-books from the library to my phone, which means I've been reading much more.  Best so far, A Little Life. I'm not sure I can exactly recommend it, because it really is devastating and has graphic scenes of horrible abuse.  But it's also an amazing story of friendship, which I feel like gets short shrift compared to romantic love.

Locally, a school resource officer took down a student at Tolman High School in Pawtucket, a few weeks before the SRO took down the student in South Caroline.  And then, protesters in Pawtucket, mostly students, were pepper sprayed by police.  Even locally, the issue doesn't seem to have gotten much traction.  The ACLU has complained, and I guess that and $2.00 will by you a coffee at Dunkin Donuts (which will not say #blacklivesmatter). I don't really know what to do, but I guess I'll settle for writing a letter to our new interim Superintendent of Providence about student discipline and cops in schools.

LB went for her annual check up today.  3ft 5in and 33.5lbs. And I got a referral to a child psychologist (although maybe a parenting coach is what we need) because, yes, it's that bad.  And, she seems to have stopped eating fruits and vegetables.  I got her to eat 5 frozen blueberries tonight.  And she wouldn't have anything to do with the shrimp I made a special stop to get.

It was a long wet slog to the doctor, and for some reason I thought it would be better to just take LB to work with me (officially I had the day off) than slog her back to school and then me in the opposite direction to work.  But then all my co-workers came to work, and it was a long round trip walk.

My parents visited and left their usual odd assortment of foods, including a huge bag of frozen waffles. I was too cheap to buy strawberries, so I sauteed some pie apples in butter, added brown sugar and half/half and vanilla, and I'm planning to do waffles with apples and whipped cream.

I've started writing class again, which is awesome, but we got a vicious assignment this week, involving translating a passage from a novel we love and then writing letters to the (dead) author.

I've been looking for some good coverage of MU.  Too much of what I've seen, reduces the issue to a response to racial slurs on campus, and clearly there is much more going on.  I'm so impressed that Ferguson and #blacklivesmatter has given activists, and the dissatisfied but not yet activists a vocabulary to express what's been wrong for so long, and a path forward.  The kids are alright.

Saturday, November 7, 2015


Yesterday was LB's birthday, and I spent a lot of it crying.  Because I didn't wake up with my daughter.  Because 5 is so old.  Because my only child is 5.  Because all of the celebrations I spend with my daughter include the person who treated me so terribly.

The good: LB had a fun party with a tiny bouncy house, and the theme was chaos, and there was a hello kitty ice cream cake, and fun was had.  LB was good at being a five year old and blew out all her candles.

I feel raw. Sad.  So thankful to have a living child.  Everyday I'm thankful. So sad to have a child that I love fulltime, but can only hold half the time.