I prioritize spooky reads in October for obvious reasons, although I never get through as many as I’d like. Still, the books in this list (with one non-spooky interruption) were worthy of reading during the most haunted month of the year.
It’s been a long time since I’ve written about my experiences in education, and the emotional weight of trying to access the feelings of this year kept me from making the effort. But for the Lunch Ticket blog, I wrote about what the pandemic has been like for teachers and students in Texas. It was difficult to reflect on a moment when it feels like education is low on the priority list, but I feel some small relief in sharing it with others who have related. Hopefully our elected officials will start making calls that work against this crisis, and for the sake of each other. You can read it here.
For Issue 13 of No Contact Mag, I wrote about the Texan fear—and my sustained hope—of “turning into” California and how Westerns prove there’s less space between the two than Texas and John Wayne might like. I’m thrilled to be in this magazine, which you can read here.
“The Lone Star” was previously shortlisted for The Forge Literary Magazine‘s Flash Competition. Their encouragement gave me the final push I needed to find this essay a home.
I somehow let my September reads go by, but fear not! I certainly read, though I may have been a little in over my head to reflect.
August was a long month and great for staying in to read far and wide. I took advantage, though I am ready for cooler weather, only so that I can take the books outside for a change.
Hard to believe we’re in the second half of this very long year. In July, I went back to work and started semester reading for my MFA program. Both of those life changes slowed me back down to five books, as well as how much time each of these books demands (in a good way).
My monthly reading average jumped in June, including two by activist and abolitionist Angela Y. Davis, both of which I covered in my anti-racist reading series. I started my MFA at Antioch University, where the residency was on Zoom for ten consecutive days. Instead of slowing me down, I was happy to sit with a book in place of a screen at the end of each day, and I was especially happy to read the books discussed below.
“Half of my whole life is gone,” Perfume Genius sings at the outset of his fifth album, Set My Heart On Fire Immediately. 2020 sometimes feels a bit like that, but I hope you’re safe, well, staying home when possible, learning antiracism, and putting it into daily reflection and practice.
I wait until the end of each year to share reflections on the music that sees me through, but I felt especially compelled to make a playlist at the halfway mark this time around. So, here it is: one song from each of the 25 projects I’ve loved so far. I hope you find something to see you through as well.
Since my last post on recommended books on racism, more Black Americans have been killed by and within racist institutions: Rayshard Brooks, Riah Milton, Dominique “Rem’Mie” Fells, and Robert Fuller, among others, should be alive today. I am a firm believer that white people should educate ourselves and reach out to educate other white Americans, and in that spirit I have been sharing what I have learned from books authored by Black writers. I encourage you to purchase the books from Black-owned bookstores and to not simply stop at reading the books, but to allow the books to compel you to action within your spheres of influence.
This week, I am recommending books on abolition. To be clear, I have not read books that specifically address defunding the police, but once the phrase came across my social media feed, I began to think back on what I’ve read about abolition, as well as sought out a few titles from my to-read shelf in order to think through this current moment.
I am seeking to educate myself on what it would take to attain an “abolition democracy,” the term W.E.B. Du Bois coined during America’s Reconstruction Era to argue that slavery would not truly be eradicated in the U.S. until institutions were put in place to genuinely incorporate Black Americans into the nation’s conception of democracy. I credit Angela Y. Davis with articulating this notion, and several of her books are described below. State, local, and federal funding must be invested in community solutions that address racism and other social ills (homophobia, transphobia, sexism, classism, and so on), and our current system of overfunding systems designed for punishment must change. I have arrived at this belief because of the books and resources listed below.