The year winding down, AIDS Day is every day.
The kids come back home for Thanksgiving (whatever this old colonial holiday really is. We all know the cruel story.) Instead of moving anywhere, upstate to hike, as we did for years and years, we eat and hang out at home with whoever wants to drop by. In this year’s case, that was grandma and grandpa, as well as Irwin, my old dissertation advisor, as well as a few others, old friends. dropping by along the way.
By Sunday, the post college kid was on a 6 am flight, on their way West to California.
By 7 AM, the college kid and I were in the car, driving up to Boston, looking at the leaves, at New England, talking about stages of history between individual and universal experiences, from individual survival to broader, collective consciousness and global interaction, to intersectional questions. What should I add to my class this spring, I ask. If women want to be equal with men, then which men wonders bell hooks, paraphrased by the teenager looking at class divides in history, highlighting that gender equality cannot be discussed without considering intersecting issues of class and race. Have you read the Combahee River Collective, they ask. Of course, it's a major part of the class, I reply. If you were to teach a class called dykes to look out for, who would you include? Audre Lorde and Sapho, they reply before drifting back to the music, the sad sad bluegrass songs they’ve cued up. Chuckling to myself, I’m thinking about Dad, who used to do similar drives with me, to and from Boston, where he was in college himself.
On we drive in rain, listening to Dolly Mixture and Kity Wells, the Ramones and Cheap Trick, talking about shows, in Brooklyn, old songs, art school and the German House, thinking about honkey tonk angels, the ICE raid on Canal Street, bemoaning the old Buzzcocks song, "Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've?)", songs as signals, glimpses into our interior worlds, drumming along to “Run to the Hills” a song about the historical conflict between European settlers and Native Americans during the colonization of the Americas. Scream for me Sarajevo, screamed Brue playing during the siege of Sarajevo. Singing along to “Orgasm Addict.” Finally in Boston, we pick up supplies and they get back to the studio, where the others in the class are printing away, completing their assignments Monday after skipping out early for the long weekend.
Back on the way to Broodlyn, coffee and podcasts are my savior along 84, through Connecticut, along Bronx River Road.
My mind drifts back to the French and then Haitian Revolutions, the revolts that came and went, the reigns of terror, and struggles for freedom, liberty, equality, and fraternity. Says Laurent Dobois:
“By creating a society in which all people, of all colors, were granted freedom and citizenship, the Haitian Revolution forever transformed the world. It was a central part of the destruction of slavery in the Americas, and therefore a crucial moment in the history of democracy, one that laid the foundation for the continuing struggles for human rights everywhere. In this sense we are all descendents of the Haitain Revolution, and responsible to these ancestors.”
What happened to friendship in the French revolution in France, I wonder, listening to the old Revolutions podcast, bemoaning political expedience, the power struggle between old Maximillian R and his comrad turned Frenemy Danton. Friendship was both a source of division and a force for rebuilding, as political ideologies fractured personal bonds.
And back to the story of Danton, Jenn’s brother told me to watch on Thanksgiving:
"This French film from a Polish director explores a famous friendship soured by politics and corruption. Georges Danton (Gérard Depardieu) and Maximilien Robespierre (Wojciech Pszoniak) fought side by side during the French Revolution. But when Danton takes control of France and starts executing citizens in droves, Robespierre feels it his duty to challenge his one-time comrade. Robespierre goes to Paris to remove his old friend from power, but Danton will not go down without a fight."
And then back to caregiving for my mom, juggling completing tasks, support and emotional needs.
Minor underestimate. Its hard to know how to balance it all. Mom’s 88, with a full team. Even then its exhausting, balancing needs, between all of us.
Holiday is over, full house back to empty nest, back by 630 PM, to a snack with Baby C at a French spot on our street after a long journey home.
Nov 27
Finishing class on Wednesday, I thought about our students, making sense of it all, struggling with their own lives, completing work, making sense of things, of policies in flux, trying to make of their lives in and out of a revolving door of prison, parole and poverty, finding a route for happiness. How do you keep going, prof, asks one student. Between family and friends, Judson and activism, it all comes together. Action equals life.
Out of class, I look at the moon over Brooklyn, catching up with the crew, wondering about our patterns, our repetitions, catching up with old friends.
Nov 28
What were the implications of the Bacon's Rebellion, a 1676 armed uprising in colonial Virginia led by Nathaniel Bacon against Governor William Berkeley's administration, wonders the college kid, telling me about their archaeology class, on the way to pick up supplies for the big meal.
Was maximilien robespierre a Jew? What was your favorite French revolution movie? What about the Thermadorians? The conversations were many between Mom and Al, Barrett and Irwin, Dodi and Baby C. Judy stopped by. Max and company had a few over for football games. Friends about, much to be grateful for.
Nov 29
Buy nothing day, trip out to Principles of GI to write with the teenager, read the writing on the wall: ‘Fisting is harm reduction.” Up to the Met to dream with Man Ray, looking for the magic light in Central Park, and back down to the East Village to stroll to Village Works, through the park, to the Library, to the Opening reception for the 50th Anniversary of PUNK Magazine at Ki Smith Gallery... Running into both kids at the openning. And off to gumbo at Rons.
Back to Man Ray. "i would rather photograph an idea than an object, a dream rather than an idea". There is "no progress in art, any more than there is progress in making love. There are simply different ways of doing it". Finally back home to the story of Danton.
Nov 30
A message from Elizabeth Street Garden:
“We’re grateful to the 130+ seniors who live in the neighborhood and wrote to the Adams administration urging them to preserve ESG.
Many of these seniors would qualify for the affordable housing but recognized the importance of community greenspace and that there were more viable empty lots for housing nearby.
The NYPost covered the story. (See pics at the end of the blog).
I scroll through facebook, seeing calls to run to Canal Street, where an ICE raid is imminent.
Balancing family and work, I am on the way to see Mom.
'Trump is a pedo' says the writing on the bathroom stall. Mom and I talk about community gardens, public space and conversations.
The cats find a new play spot.
Long weekend winding down, I read about the action, where activists across foiled a raid by ICE.
“A fantastic job of spontaneous organizing and forcing ICE back to New Jersey!” says Ron Kuby. (See pics at the end of the blog).
Says Cleve Jones:
“Dear friends,
December 1st, is World AIDS Day. As most of you know, the regime has prohibited Federal employees from recognizing the day or promoting any local observances.
It is nonetheless a good day to remember all those millions who died, due in part to government neglect, apathy and stigma, during those long dark years before the arrival of effective treatments. Today we know that treatment equals prevention, and that there is a path to zero new infections, even in the absence of a vaccine or cure.
Recent advances in treatment, including the approval of Gilead Science's twice-a-year dosing of lenacapavir as Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis, offer hope to mitigate the racial disparities in access to PrEP and save millions of lives in the US and around the world.
I have witnessed the history of this pandemic first hand. It is difficult to convey the depth of my anger, frustration and fear at the moment when the world stands, not on the brink of a great advancement, but instead on the precipice of a new wave of HIV infections, illness and death.
Researchers estimate that the recent elimination of USAID programs in the world's poorest nations has already caused the deaths of over 600,000 people, most of them children. This is unconscionable.
As the regime's ruthless cruelty plays out - in the waters of the Caribbean, in migrant communities, in sub-Saharan Africa and rural America, we see the truth more clearly every day.
They did not come to govern. They came to destroy.”
