An Afternoon of Listening

This past weekend, Nate and I attended Chaos or Community: Allies in Action! A Solidarity Resource Fair at the First Unitarian Church in Hyde Park. I had heard about the event from attending the Teach In on the Department of Justice report on the Chicago Police Department and then again when we attended a service at Second Unitarian for the first time last week. We all got to go thanks to the childcare available at the event because of Chalice Children.

It was great. There were so many people. They had so many ideas. I wrote so many things down in my notebook. I was riding a wave of energy and passion, and it really felt like we could change things. I didn’t get to attend all the breakout sessions I wanted, and people didn’t get to speak as long as I would have liked to listen. But I made connections with some people excited to put our energy into action. I’m hoping they become friends and allies in the fight for our future.

I’m really glad that we were able to attend this event. It did my husband and me a great deal of good to have one-on-one interactions with some truly inspiring people. There’s a follow up gathering in early March when I’m eager to spend some more time listening. And maybe we’ll have some successes to share!

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I have three days a day

I have found that in staying at home with Abhimanyu, my days feel MUCH longer. It’s not exactly that the time passes slowly. More that…a LOT happens. And because Abhi still has two naps (inbetweentimes) during the day and can emerge with different personalities, one day can sometimes feel like three. When I think of it like that, I feel better that I don’t remember things from earlier in the day. It’s because that was days ago for me.

Last Friday was a GOOD day for me. In the first day, I slept in to 7:30 and spent time with Abhimanyu, Nate, and Nate’s parents. I discovered Chewing Gum on Netflix. In the inbetweentime, I showered and made my way to Women & Children First.
img_1317In the second day, I read like a fiend. I made good progress in The New Jim Crow. I wrote lots of ideas down. I took a necessary breather to explore the copy of Essence I bought on a whim and found it a fantastic magazine (I will be subscribing!). Then I kept my momentum up and got through the whole fifth chapter of The New Jim Crow, and rewarded myself with the prologue of Swing Time.
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I was listening to The Dollop podcast on the Boston busing riots in the 70’s on the way there and back. When I finished the second part of that, I moved on to listening to Carrie & Lowell and wept the few blocks from the bus stop to our apartment. I was over the moon to find the place dark and empty. I went straight for the bedroom and sobbed, letting Carrie & Lowell play out and then following it up with Shields. It was the first time I’d cried like that ages. It felt great to let loose. Then I warmed myself up, got comfy and made my way to the living room to finish reading Essence.

Everyone came back from swimming class in a great mood. Abhimanyu was the kindest to me he has ever been and sat in my lap happily for ages. I was expecting him to leave all the time, but he kept chatting and eating bits of peanut butter play dough. He ate a good dinner of…SUSHI!
img_1342And loved it. After some good playing and a long-missed bath time, he went down faster than he has in a really long time.

In the third day, we sat down to a yummy dinner of crock pot Italian beef (courtesy of my in-laws) and watched the incredible “Murder & Scully Meet the Were-monster”, followed by the pilot of The Good Place (which we just finished the first season of and oh-my-god-go-watch-that-show-now-what-are-you-waiting-for), followed by three episodes of Halal in the Family. Oh, and Nate was demonstrating his latest magic tricks intermittently throughout this while I colored in my new Dr. Seuss coloring book. We rounded off the evening with a bit of Overwatch and reading comics in bed.

I have a lot to be thankful for.

An ode to Squirrel Girl

fullsizeoutput_62fThese are tough times. I’m exhausted worrying about the current and future state of our country. Nate, Abhimanyu, and I have taken it in turns to get sick. Every time I go on Facebook these days, it turns my stomach or brings tears to my eyes. Things feel pretty shitty.

So I feel like I need to give fair due to a bright source of light in my life: the Unbeatable Squirrel Girl comics. They are pure fun.

I received the first two TPBs a couple years ago from a good friend. This was just after Abhimanyu was born, so they got set aside. A few weeks ago, when I was feeling pretty low and wanted something to lighten things up, I pulled them off my bookshelf. That’s one of the best decisions I’ve made recently.

I savor each joyous, brightly-colored, playful page. The writing is sharp and funny. The art is bold and enthusiastic. Now that I’ve started the second volume, I’m already thinking about making room in my budget for as many as there are (and I’m hoping for a bounty since I took so long to read these).

So, if you’re like me and looking for something to put a smile on your face, check out the Unbeatable Squirrel Girl. I’m pretty sure you’ll be glad you did.

I’m much more comfortable being wrong

fullsizeoutput_3c1Sure, I like being right as much as the next person. But when I’m wrong, I know how to fix it. I apologize; I listen; I learn; I change. I’ve been wrong a lot in my life. And I’ve worked hard to become better because of it. I’d rather realize I’m wrong and correct myself than think I’m right and never change.
I’ve spent all day watching the speeches from the Women’s March on Washington. In particular, I have listened for mentions of immigrants, of people of color, of people with disabilities, of native peoples, of the LGBTQIA community. I marched on Saturday in Chicago because the platform for the Women’s March is bold and inclusive. So I wanted the words spoken at the march in DC to be bold and inclusive. Because 52% of white women brought us here. And I let them.

I have often felt like I don’t know my place in all the back and forth of Black Lives Matter and the election aftermath. I am not white. I am not black. I am not Muslim. I am not Christian. I’m not having an identity crisis. I know exactly who I am. And I am angry.

Yes, I am a woman. But I am not angry for women. It’s not that I don’t think equal pay is important. It’s not that I don’t think that reproductive rights are a key issue with real health implications. It’s not that I don’t think violence against women isn’t an abhorrent reality. It’s just that I’ve been hearing about those things my whole life. And in raising our voices to speak to these issues, I worry that we drown out those who have been crying out for centuries.

Ignorance is dangerous if left unattended. Willful ignorance is utterly reprehensible. I have learned a lot in the past six months. And I am determined to learn more. Because the more I understand how the racist systems in this country work, the more I realize how blind I had to be to not see it earlier. I had all the pieces to understand and I never put them together. If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.

This is not about blue and red. This is not about left and right. This is about right and wrong. And I am in the uncomfortable position of pointing out the wrongs of strangers, of elders. But we got here because too many people like me let their discomfort get the better of them.

So I’m going to step out of my comfort zone…

What are you going to do?

The Books

I have a lot of reading to do.
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Not pictured, either because they are on my kindle or not yet acquired: The New Jim Crow (yes, I’ve been taking my time with it. It’s a lot to swallow), Hidden Figures, Stories of Your Life, Incendiary Circumstances, March: Books One, Two, and Three, and Swing Time.

My goal is to stay focused and get through all those before taking any more on (even in theory). That way I’m not overwhelmed. Because if the above weren’t enough, I was doing a bit of online research leading up to the holidays to try and find books to give as gifts to expose some family members to American experiences they may not fully understand. I found a treasure trove of lists. Naturally, I had to add them to my want-to-read list.

I also discovered the site Teaching for Change Books, which has annual booklists for all ages. This will be keeping me busy for a long time, and I’m excited about the books I can share with Abhimanyu. (In fact, I’m beginning to think about a list of Books You Have to Read Before Going Out in the World.)

Okay. Breathe. Read.

Wish me luck!

Current Fixations #7

This nail polish
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My lounging set up: mermaid blanket, Pride and Prejudice hoodie, and Nightmare Before Christmas pyjama pants
I’ve basically been living in this for the past couple weeks.

It’s an Apple TV app that lets me stream British shows. So far, since the New Year, I’ve gone through Lilies, Kath & Kim, and am currently head over heels for Raised by Wolves.

7 Wonders Duel
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(pictured with the Pantheon expansion)
We now take this fantastic two player table top game with us whenever we travel. We’ve already played it in three states and two countries!

I’ve been kind of obsessed with this for a while and saw it this week. Loved it! I will be seeing it again and reading the book.

Happy New Year, anyway

Let’s face it: 2016 got away from me. From all of us, maybe. So 2017 is all about staying awake for me. Making small but real changes to feel better about my role in the world: as a mother, as a woman, as an American, and as a citizen of Earth. It doesn’t really feel like a full on new year. It feels like we are in the middle of things. New Year’s feels arbitrary and irrelevant. Reminds me of a poem I read as a kid:

HAPPY NEW YEAR, ANYWAY
January first isn’t New Year’s.
Everyone knows that.
The real new year is in September
when school starts.
January comes in the middle of the year,
when the edges of your notebook are all worn
and those new pencils with your name in gold
have been broken or borrowed or lost.
And your mother starts looking at your shoes
and saying, “Are those getting too tight for you?”
Everything’s old by January.
The teacher has long since stopped
playing games to learn your names
and asking how your summer was.
And you’re right in the middle,
smack in the middle of the hardest math.
There’s nothing new about January.
But your parents don’t know that,
with their party horns and midnight kisses.
And they have the calendar on their side.
So Happy New Year, anyway.
You might as well pretend.
                                    Joanna Cole

I’ve been out of school for ages, and while I still miss the freshness of a new school year with new notebooks and folders, I’ve come around to January 1 as the mark of a new year. It’s as good a time as any, really (despite being in the middle of winter). But this year, I find myself thinking back to that poem. I made my resolutions last summer, after the series of police shootings that made the news; after I started reading The New Jim Crow. After I realized I’d been sleeping. If that wasn’t enough, Donald Trump was elected, and I was deeply disturbed to see just how deep my slumber had been. It really underscored the importance of paying attention and taking an active role in community and politics.

I learned a lot from 2016. I learned that civic engagement is important to me and that its absence can have disastrous consequences. I learned that staying at home with a child is a constantly changing work environment. Setting high-minded goals of self improvement just doesn’t make sense. What works on Sunday might not still work on Thursday. I even tried keeping it simple, but it clearly wasn’t enough as I stopped even thinking about my goals halfway through the year (though I’ll give you an update on my progress in the next few weeks, anyway).

So this year, it’s about rules and habits. Better living through self-discipline, sort of thing. Rules and habits seem like more realistic bits to put on a plate already full with a busy life, a world to save (apparently), and small person to keep alive. Small is big.

‘Tis the Season

The events of 2016 have given me a lot to think about. I wouldn’t be the first to say that it’s been a cruel year. I have more to say on that, but I’m still processing and don’t quite know where to begin, so that’s for later.

Suffice it to say, I’ve been thinking a lot about my identity recently. I’ve been more aware of it and more aware of the experiences that have shaped it. A big part of that identity is growing up in the United States as a child of immigrants from India. The holiday season has always been when I am mostly sharply aware of that part of myself. We didn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas when I was a kid. And there really aren’t any major Hindu holidays this time of year. I always felt like I was on the outside of the festivities, looking in.

Longingly. I crafted detailed fantasy traditions that I would start when I was older. I spent tons of time thinking about presents that would delight my friends and family. I actually put a fair amount of effort into getting my family to make a bigger deal out of the holidays. And they do now. And it’s awesome. Our Thanksgivings are dazzling feasts; we blast holiday music; we’ve exchanged some really thoughtful gifts (like performances…pro tip: tickets to events are amazing gifts). As an adult, I’ve been able to make the holiday season my own, merging my native culture with the culture of my home.

And I’m unspeakably grateful for that. While this is hardly the most joyous holiday season I’ve ever known, it’s already been such a comfort. Thanksgiving was filled with heavier conversations than usual, but it was also filled with more togetherness. We had a larger group over for the big meal. They stayed longer. We watched more movies together. We played more games together. We needed each other more.

It feels more important than ever to celebrate traditions. This is the fifth year in a row that my husband and I have gone to Christkindlmarket, the second year that Abhimanyu has. It’s our third Christmas tree as a family. Abhimanyu had his first (crying) picture with Santa. My husband’s parents joined us to decorate the tree, and we hope to make that an annual thing. We’re a little bit going out of our way to do holiday things because they’re just plain nice to do.

Thanksgiving
I’m very fortunate to have a loving and supportive family that I enjoy spending time with. It made Thanksgiving something to look forward to. A nice break, time to refresh, regroup.

I started going to New Jersey for Thanksgiving when I lived in Philadelphia. They were a two hour train ride away, and I was in the habit of visiting them every six weeks or so, anyway. But we didn’t start making a thing of the big dinner until my second Thanksgiving with them.

I had gotten into the habit of Thanksgiving, see. Growing up, we didn’t make much of the holiday. Didn’t make a special meal or have regular family get togethers. Sometimes we’d travel; sometimes people would visit. But it was really just another long weekend. But in my first year at college, a friend invited me to go with her to Thanksgiving at a relative of hers. I haven’t stopped “observing” since. I even have a trademark dish: pumpkin cheesecake. Which brings me to the food.

It started out small. We don’t eat meat, but we wanted it to feel Thanksgiving-y, so we looked through a cookbook my aunt had (Vegetarian Celebrations or something) and found what turned out to be an amazing cranberry chutney recipe. We had it with lemon sevai and pumpkin cheesecake. And it stuck. And we elaborated. The menu became an appetizer (sometimes two), a soup, an entree (plus the essential sevai and chutney), and pumpkin cheesecake (sometimes additional dessert items). Themes emerged.

This year, the theme, courtesy of my uncle (the only one with his act together) was ancient grains. We had amaranth tikkis, spicy kamut stew, creamy gorgonzola teff, baked polenta with roasted vegetables, and homemade blueberry ice cream. And, remember, that’s on top of the lemon sevai with cranberry chutney and pumpkin cheesecake.
Phew! Right? And it was all super tasty. And it was really nice to be with family. And it was really nice to be reminded of things to be thankful for.
Christkindlmarket
I first discovered Christkindlmarket in college, when those of us who stayed in Chicago during the Thanksgiving break didn’t know what to do with ourselves. I went a couple times between then and when Nate and I started dating. Since then, it’s become a special tradition of ours. We never miss it and have the mugs for all the years we’ve gone together (except one when they ran out). Last year was the first time we went with Abhimanyu. We decided to start a tradition of picking out an ornament each year in his honor. Eventually, he will pick the ornament out himself.
So we braved the cold and got ourselves some gluhwein and a new ornament. Abhimanyu was a champ about the whole thing, naturally.
Decorating the tree
Nate and I have been getting a Christmas tree from Gethsemane ever since we moved in together three years ago. I was ridiculously excited that first year. It was my first ever experience getting a Christmas tree. We never did that when I was a kid. The only tree I remember (though there may have been one in a home video when I was three) was a potted evergreen that we always had around. We repurposed it for the holidays and stuck gifts underneath. I think we decided that its branches wouldn’t sustain much decoration. So tree shopping was like a moment out of the movies for me. I was doing happy dances the entire time.

Last year, we went with my mom and Abhimanyu and chose a tree based on Abhi’s input (the tree next to which he did not cry was chosen). This year, he got to play a more active role and actually pointed to the tree he wanted. So we got the tree, put it up, got the tree decorations out of storage, and got new ornaments from Christkindlmarket. It actually felt like we were good at life.
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Nate’s parents were coming up the following weekend, so we thought it would be a great opportunity to start a tradition of decorating our tree together. Since I didn’t grow up with any real Christmas traditions, I’ve always fantasized about starting new ones. What better place to start than the tree! Abhimanyu had the honor of putting up the tree topper before we tucked him in for the night. Then we had a round of holiday drinks and did up the rest of the tree in no time. As a reward, we settled in for some Arthur Christmas.
Meeting Santa
Something I’ve always been conflicted about is Santa. Since we didn’t really celebrate Christmas, he was never really a part of the magic for me. And I was totally that kid that ruined Santa for my friends. Heh. As an adult, Santa gives me a lot of pause. I have no problem with the idea of a jolly man who loves kids (though the lap thing can get weird…), but the idea of making a list of demands and then magically having (some or all of) them met never sat well with me. Leaving materialism and the realities of finances and consumerism aside, the part of Christmas that I love is the love. Here is a time of year, pretty much a whole month, when everyone treats everyone else better, expresses more love, spends more time with people they don’t see often. The best part about all the presents is expressing love through generosity. To give all the credit to someone you have no personal connection to seems to miss the point. And then there’s the lying component. I find that I’m just not that comfortable with the idea of promoting a falsehood to my children, especially when I don’t see the benefit of doing so. The way I see it, not thinking that there is a real man named Santa (or any of the variations) who miraculously gives presents to everyone doesn’t have to diminish the magic of Christmas at all. But I also recognize that it’s really easy for me to say all this…because I never really had Santa in my life. Suffice it to say that my husband feels very differently and we haven’t quite worked the kinks out.

You know…I’m not sure why I felt the need to tell you all that. But I did, and I’m not going back. Anyway! Our neighborhood has a lot of families with kids, so there are frequently events geared towards children. A couple weeks ago, there was a brunch with Santa event that fell on a Saturday (Daddy day), so Nate took Abhimanyu for his first Santa encounter. Abhimanyu put on his best (only) holiday sweater, got a crab balloon animal, and completely lost his shit in Santa’s lap. All in all, a fantastic introduction, in my opinion. And while I still don’t know what I want to tell him about Santa, I wouldn’t give the pictures up for the world.
I’d like to close this incredibly long post with an expression of gratitude. The current social and political climate is such that America feels a lot less like the awesome salad (I’ve come to really dislike the melting pot metaphor) that I love so much. We have a lot of work to do in the months and years ahead to get back on track to following the dream of America, as opposed to settling for the reality, but I need to acknowledge that I have been very fortunate. I have always had friends and family who shared their traditions and culture, who included everyone in celebrations. And I have a lot more joy in my life because of it. Thank you.

It’s good to be home

We got back from India yesterday afternoon. After a long (32 hours!) day of traveling, our Tempurpedic mattress was the most amazing homecoming. Everything we dreamed it would be in the snatches of sleep we got on the plane. Going abroad is an unparalleled experience, but a long journey always takes its toll.

It’s nice to be back to Bart and Sando, empanadas from 5411, fried chicken from Roost, hopping across the street for a mani/pedi, a five minute walk to groceries, pizza and salad from Coalfire, and a session of restorative yoga at Namaskar.

But there are definitely things I miss:

  • A full house
  • Neighborhood noises that include birds and squirrels and kids playing
  • Demerara sugar
  • Daily (filter) coffee
  • Going out on the roof to greet the day
  • Chatting while hanging up laundry
  • Getting to experience my family’s pleasures
  • My sister

I’ve still got to catch you guys up on the time we spent in Goa, but I wanted to make sure I shared my first reactions upon getting back to Chicago and fall weather crisp enough to merit a tights haul from Target.