Author: gracesmuggler

Image Description: An ocean wave moves toward a sandy shore. Public domain image.

Recently, I was gathered with a community over Zoom, when someone referenced a poignant moment in the film “Cast Away.” It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen that film — probably more than a decade. But I’ve definitely thought of it a number of times during quarantine.

It’s wild to for us to be so physically isolated. Thankfully, most of us have phones and computers. Some of us may also have Wilsons. (I have a cute, plushy, little elephant friend, and there’s a baby bunny and a baby groundhog in my backyard).

At the end of the film, after surviving alone on an island for four years, the protagonist Chuck Noland is able to return home, but his life is now far from normal, typical, or frankly, what he deserves. He continues to adjust to a new normal with the very same skills he developed on that island. Speaking about his experience, he says,

“And that’s when this feeling came over me like a warm blanket. I knew, somehow, that I had to stay alive. Somehow. I had to keep breathing. Even though there was no reason to hope. And all my logic said that I would never see this place again. So that’s what I did. I stayed alive. I kept breathing. And one day my logic was proven all wrong because the tide came in, and gave me a sail. And now, here I am. I’m back. In Memphis, talking to you. I have ice in my glass…  And I know what I have to do now. I gotta keep breathing. Because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide could bring?”

It’s this last line that has really stuck with me:
Who knows what the tide could bring?

There are times, no doubt, when we experience pain, loss, and suffering, both personally and collectively. And… there are times when unexpected help comes to us. And… there are times when unexpected hope comes to us. And… there are times when unexpected change comes to us or invites us to participate alongside it.

Who knows what the tide could bring?

Unexpected grace. Unexpected help. Unexpected winds of change. Unexpected possibility.

I believe in this. I’ve known pain, loss, and suffering. I’m a long-term trauma survivor. I’ve lost loved ones. I’ve had my world upended many times.

I’ve also experienced resilience. I’ve also experienced community. I’ve experienced unexpected opportunities. I’ve also experienced restoration after conflict. I’ve also experienced reconciliation of relationships — some wildly unlikely, and yet, they happened. In fact, I’ve experienced this more than once.

I believe in possibility.

Who knows what the tide could bring?

I don’t claim, of course, to have experienced many of the forms of suffering that are plaguing our world. I have a lot of privilege too. There are some who are struggling with discrimination, lack of resources, and systemic injustices that are deep, raw, undeserved, and devastating.

And sometimes, even there, the winds of change blow in such a way that we are empowered and enabled to act toward collective liberation. Or at the very least, this calls to us, and we can follow in its direction.

Who knows what the tide could bring?

I’m going to let that question linger with me for a while.

–Renee Roederer

Image Description: A gorgeous loaf of bread, gifted to me by my friends Jeff and Nancy Renner.

I was in a Zoom meeting when someone mentioned the bread that her family makes at home each week. With ovens right there in their home, they bake for some stores in my town. Then they always make a bit extra.

I’ve had their bread before, and I know how good it is. “Oh, that’s sounds so delicious,” I thought, suddenly with a hankering for that bread.

So as soon as the meeting was over, I emailed them and asked if I could have a loaf. I was invited to come over the very next day and pick it up, and when I did, it was gloriously tasty and hot right out of the oven. I know it was gloriously tasty because I was already eating it in the car on the way home.

This is a reminder that sometimes, we can just… ask.

During the last Lent season, right before the coronavirus was fully on our radar, I chose to take on what I called “the spiritual practice of asking for things.” It’s all the more vital now. We are often afraid to ask from our friends and community members, but the truth is, folks are often glad to share. We fear being a ‘burden’ (this is straight up a cultural reflection of ableism and capitalism, where we’re taught we’re supposed to do everything ourselves productively, or else lose care) but when people ask us for things, we hardly ever think of them the way we tend to think of ourselves.

So we can just ask. And our friends and neighbors are often delighted, just as we are when we can participate in providing for someone.

This is a choice to lean into a beautiful, spiritual value — interdependence. And that value takes form relationally, concretely, and materially.. Sometimes, just ask.

–Renee Roederer

 

Image Description: A drop of water falls into a body of water, making ripples. Public domain image.

This is my personal phrase lately:
“Receive from everything, share from everything.”

It’s also how I’m trying to live in these days.

There are times of upheaval, both personal and collective, when we rightfully ask ourselves, “What should I do? How should I act? How are my neighbors and my community calling to me? What do I need? What do my loved ones need? What do my neighbors need?”

We might ask these questions out of urgency. We might ask these questions out of anxiety. We might find ourselves zooming out of the moment, getting perspective, yes, but also distance, asking these questions hypothetically within the big picture rather than dealing with the reality of the day-to-day picture.

Within it all, my personal phrase is,
“Receive from everything, share from everything.”

The truth of the matter is… change happens in the day to day, mundane aspects of life, and above all, change happens through a web of relationships. There are times, absolutely, when our daily, mundane lives need to be disrupted with cries for large-scale change. We are experiencing this now.

We activate change, however, in the daily mundane aspects of life and above all, through our relationships. We need to build change, not hypothetically in some conceptual big picture, but in the communities we are already in, allowing those very communities to expand, transform, and transform us.

Receive from everything, right where we are —
receive care, receive messages, receive love, receive challenge, receive questions, receive resources, receive conflict, receive imagination, receive lament, receive hope, receive connection, receive relationship.

Share from everything, right where we are–
participate in being a catalyzer,
share care, share messages, share love, share challenge, share questions, share resources, share conflict, share imagination, share lament, share hope, share connection, share relationship.

These days in the upheaval, I am literally keeping a list of these things. It helps me. I keep a list of what I receive, and I want to receive as fully as possible. And then I consider how to share from it in relationship.

Some aspects of our lives need to be disrupted.

We can participate in building change when we act, when we share, in our daily, mundane lives through the web of our relationships.

Let life catalyze us.
Participate in catalyzing change.

“Receive from everything, share from everything.”

–Renee Roederer

Image Description: Two small purple basil plants in small, clear glass bowls are on a counter with a plastic planter container behind them. 

These are my baby purple basil plants. I was sad when I saw them wilting inside their planter container over the weekend. It will be time to plant them in a proper pot soon — that, I knew — but goodness, their stems were all totally wilted, lying flat over their small mounds of dirt.

So I put these small mounds of dirt into little clear bowls. Then I put some water in the bowls. These little babies sucked that water right up, and in very short order were springing right into growth again. It was amazing to witness how resilient they were.

And that had me reflecting…

Sometimes, you have to change the environment. When that environment has good, solid resources and care… much is possible. Sometimes, much more than we think.

Isn’t that also true when it comes to ourselves? Our neighbors? Our relationships? Our communities? Our world?

–Renee Roederer

Yesterday, the Poor People’s Campaign held a virtual Moral March on Washington, and it was really powerful. I want to share the video with you so you can watch it as well.

Toward the beginning of the gathering, the Rev. Dr. William Barber II said a simple statement that will stay with me for a long time. He said,

“If you want to change the narrative, change the narrators.”

Then we heard hours of testimony from a huge cross section of people who live with the impacts of poverty, low wages, and low wealth. Rev. Dr. Barber rightfully shared that the people behind these testimonies are prophets. Their stories make up the bulk of the video.

You can watch here, or push play on the embedded video on this blog:

Image Description: A person with light skin, brown hair, and brown eyes looks into the camera while wearing a blue mask with small white flowers. Public domain image.

Dear Very Loved People who rightfully say Black Lives Matter but don’t wear a mask,

This pandemic isn’t over.

Everyone is at risk, but by the numbers,

Black people are most at risk. Please wear a mask.

Image Description: A picture of a June calendar. Public domain image.

So… real talk: Today is my 100th day of isolation. It’s been pretty total. I’ve also been mostly okay. Or okay enough.

I’ve been wondering what I might say on Day 100 about Day 100. And the truth is, I don’t know what to say exactly. I just have some need to acknowledge it somehow. And maybe that’s mostly okay. Or okay enough.

I do want you to know I don’t just sit around and count every single pandemic isolation day as it stretches out. There’s no tally on a wall somewhere or even in my mind. At one point, I simply asked myself, I wonder which day is Day 100? Siri told me it was June 19, so now I know I’ve reached it.

So here I am, finding some need to acknowledge this. As I’ve gotten closer to this date, I imagined writing a post called, “No Silver Linings,” in which I would challenge myself to talk about this with no positive spin at all. No need to make it shiny. I’ve not gone anywhere public, even the grocery store, so I haven’t been the same room as any human beings for 100 days. 100 days straight. I’ve also had no hugs for 100 days. Me — highly extroverted me. It isn’t easy.

And sure, I could have written that post and talked about how I’m known for being so positive — which is actually authentic, by the way; it’s my number one strength on Strength Finders — and I could have challenged myself to say nothing positive about this time.

But the truth is, I’m mostly okay. Or okay enough.

Not always, but often.

Would I choose this? No.

Do I regret this? I don’t regret staying safe indoors, no.

Will I find ways to get a bit closer to others in the next 100 days? Probably. At least a bit. But the truth is, sometimes I sincerely wonder if I’m going to end up living like this for another year. I don’t quite want to imagine a year and a half without a hug though, so… perhaps something’s gotta give at some point. I’m living alone for a while, and I’m not the only person doing that. This means there are lots of folks out there who haven’t had a hug in 100 days. Maybe longer.

I’m very committed to not getting COVID or spreading it. I think odds are very high that I have some vulnerabilities in my immune system. I’m also not cowering, living in fear. Some may assume so when I haven’t even gone to the grocery store. But it’s not fear; it’s commitment.

So no positive spin, but here’s some real talk too: I am okay. I don’t like this, and I don’t think it’s particularly good for me in some ways. But. Or rather, and… I am taking very good care of myself. I sleep very well, and I can hardly believe this (used to struggle with this a lot). I love my work — all three jobs. Yes, I have three part-time jobs and three roles, and I dearly love all of them. Even though they’re within various organizations, I get to be a community-former in all of them. I am quite literally building community, even across distance, even virtually, and even over the phone every single day. And that energizes me.

I have also been astounded at how much care finds me, even living like this. This may be my number one take-away from this time. People send me mail. People call me. People text me. People confide in me. People invite me to confide in them. I am loved, and I know this every single day. I honestly feel lucky ducky — definitely not in the situation of this moment, but in that very real love. It meets me pretty much every single day.

So here we are. Day 100. I just need to acknowledge it. No silver linings. But also, no catastrophic misery. Difficulty and love, right together.

—Renee Roederer

 

Today, I’d like to share an image from the Instagram account @malefragility. It’s entitled, “Contradictions for White People in Racial Justice Work.” On Instagram, the caption to the image says, “If you’re leaning too far in one direction, try the other one.”

I will type out the text below:

— white people are a particular liability in racial justice movements
— white people have specific and critical roles in racial justice movements

— it can feel humiliating to have not participated meaningfully in racial justice work before now and suddenly want to join
— in order to grow stronger and win, the movement requires new people to join

— when you’re working on ending an oppression that you benefit from, people will rightly mistrust you and be hard on you
— when you’re working on ending racism, it’s good to be nice to yourself and patient with yourself

— white activists need to listen to, defer to, and take leadership from POC
— because “POC” is not a monolithic identity that all believes one thing, white activists need to cultivate their own analysis and judgment over time

— one specific role for white people is being tough about holding one another accountable
— another key role for white people is extending compassion, care, and patience to other white people

— racial justice work involves people giving up or giving away their power
— another part of racial justice work is white people strategically using their power rather than hiding it, denying it, or pretending it doesn’t exist

I saw this image today from @HolisticAllyGrace, and I thought I would share it. Posting the image text below:

Anti-Racism: Fixed to Growth Mindset

Fixed-Comfort:
“I don’t know where to start or what to say.”

Growth-Courage:
“First I will listen/read/watch. I will speak against injustice.”

Fixed-Comfort:
“I don’t want to get it wrong or get called out.”

Growth-Courage:
“I will make mistakes, no doubt about it. I will be grateful for the lesson.”

Fixed-Comfort:
“It won’t make a difference what I do. Nothing is going to change.”

Growth-Courage:
“Things happen when I take risks and become part of something bigger.”

Fixed-Comfort:
“I don’t get involved in politics. I don’t have time.”

Growth-Courage:
“This is a human rights issue. This matters. I will make time.”

 

 

Image description: An image from Amber Hughson’s piece below. In the middle it says “But Actually Imagine Transformative Alternatives to Policing.” This title is surrounded by her flyers. You can read image descriptions for those flyers here.

Hello, everyone.

I want to share this post today from Amber Hughson, a friend of mine. She is the creator of the Alternatives to Policing flyers that have gone quite viral over the last few weeks. I have shared these flyers on this blog. I have also seen them shared by friends all across the country.

But Amber has deep concerns about how these flyers are being used and talked about in some circles, and she wants us to do what the title below says… actually imagine transformative alternatives to policing.

She asks us to do this and also share her piece below if we’ve shared these flyers. I’m also pulling these two quotes. The first speaks to the context of the creation of these flyers. The second is a call for us to act upon these flyers in particular ways.

“I was (and am) exhausted by the comments of ‘well-meaning’ liberals that visions of a world without policing and incarceration are ‘utopian’ and ‘unrealistic’ and ‘idealistic.’ These words were weaponized against Black, immigrant, trans, and poor organizers and survivors who detailed their experiences of having been targeted by policing and offered concrete policy changes that would affirm and protect their lives. In particular, Mayor Christopher Taylor (as well as City Council and recently fired City Administrator Howard Lazarus) have waged an insidious campaign to gaslight Black community members and organizers. In response to extensive incidents of harm from policing in Ann Arbor, Taylor responds in total defense of police actions — he cannot imagine a world in which he does not feel threatened by his own constituents to the point of requiring armed guards. He openly names white supremacy and racism as historic national problems, but tells community members and organizers that these same issues are not present in Ann Arbor and certainly not in the AAPD. Taylor absolves his officers and himself of wrongdoing while standing in a ‘safe’ (for who?) pleasantly white-dominant City which has gentrified historic Black neighborhoods. He, alongside most of Ann Arbor, willfully denies a connection between the hoarding of wealth in Ann Arbor and the extensive violence of policing and incarceration in neighboring Ypsilanti. We watched as community members stood by the mayor time and time again. Organizers were emotionally exhausted. Black organizers told me they were too traumatized to return to the work.”

and

“Do what no one can do alone. Sit down with these flyers and have conversations, rather than simply sharing them. Question the words that I chose like ’employee’ or ‘urgent responder’ or ‘crisis intervention team.’ Question the race neutral language and images. Push the boundaries of who could and should fill these roles and who could and should have the power to shape them. Push the boundaries of how rigid these roles would be regulated and imagine them being flexible to shifting conditions. Imagine the kinds of transformative changes that would be required in your specific context for Indigenous, Black, trans, immigrant, poor, and disabled people most impacted by policing to actually make the decisions of how land, wealth, food, shelter, and healthcare are distributed in a world without police.”

Please have a read:

But Actually Imagine Transformative Alternatives to Policing