january: resist everything that would destroy you: apathy, entropy, tyranny
february: your pain always has meaning; go to the fucking doctor
march: you do not need the right words or any words at all to be worthwhile; they will love you anyway
april: love and fury are indivisible
may: death isn’t interested in you nor, for the first time in your life, are you interested in her
june: this is how you breathe
july: yes, it is worth the extra work, time, and money to own AC
august: you will spend weeks longing for currents and snowmelt and the summer will pass before you can get a breath in edgewise
september: high collars and independence become you
october: you were not meant to live alone
november: that urge to diminish, to be less, is the antithesis of strength
december: nothing lasts forever and that fact will always be a blessing
what i have learned this year
Evolution is not an inevitable march forward into perfection; it is an unending, unyielding, messy red. Like death, he visits us all. Like death, he is not cruel.
The current iteration of our world, our bodies, ourselves is the best it will ever be! The great bias of history.
We forget we are the next in the line of progression to be bumped off eventually and maybe we are the failed branch in the family tree. It is not for us to know. It will be those digging up the impressions of our bones on rock our names and dreams forgotten who decide.
Books have always played a huge role in my life. From getting frustrated with librarians as a kid because they ran out of Chinese fairytales to eventually becoming an English major books have always been my escape. They got me through my first heartbreak and depression as a teenager and eventually gave me a college […]
via Relearning to Read — My Roaring Twenties
The most brilliant woman to walk through the halls of my podunk women’s college was A– , a member of the Laguna Pueblo and Blackfeet tribes, if my memory serves. From the start she would proclaim this with the pride it deserved and from the start no fewer than half of us who heard it would look down on her as if she had taken from us something we should have had. The entitlement is strong among southern white girlchildren.
She was courage incarnate. Unafraid to attempt to expel nearly a dozen girls in one fell swoop for their racist parody script in Theater– they didn’t walk at graduation and their absence was marked by even the filthy rich donors, their sins made known through the almighty internet grapevine– while stubbornly double-majoring in English and Psychology and to top things off she had a baby her junior year, finished her degrees with a newborn on her hip.
“Grace” is too fragile a descriptor for this woman, let me tell you what.
Her family came together to bouey her. At least that’s how it appeared from the outside, from a distance, from my limited perspective hardly knowing her. They were on campus with hot food, with gifts, with affections. As guest speakers working to educate our sorry asses and as friends to those who were kind to their daughter. Even her boyfriend stayed at her side– I think in the end he married her. Oh how we lonely, unloved Others burned with envy, with jealousy, for what we thought we should have had. As if our wanting somehow warranted another’s deprivation. As if there should be a limit placed on the love in the world.
Last time I checked Facebook she was leaving Standing Rock– likely with her small human and family in tow. And to my classmates who sniffed in irritation every time we heard this woman proclaim her ancestry I have to ask, “What have we done since graduation?”
An ink-eater has a great number of thoughts about the systematic decline of the U.S. Education system and wants to talk about it. More below.
Continue reading “Anti-Intellectualism & Education Theory, pt. 1”