Monthly Archives: November 2011

Oh, boy

Oh Boy Salad

In my family, no Thanksgiving is complete without Jell-O. In case you need some neon yellow on your Thanksgiving table, here’s our go-to recipe, as dashed off for us by my grandma a couple of years ago:

OH BOY SALAD

2-3oz pkg lemon jello or 1-6 oz pkg.
Make as directed with water

Add:
3 bananas sliced
1/3 cup mini marshmallows (or 8 jumbo marshmallows, diced)
1 No. 2 can crushed pineapple (can sizes smaller now-was 20 oz. just use smaller size can)
(drained, save juice for dressing)

Let this become firm in refrig. before spreading the dressing

Dressing:
1 cup pineapple juice (add water if not enough juice)
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg
2 tablespoons flour
Mix, stir and cook until thick.

COOL and combine with 1 cup cream whipped (I use Cool Whip)
Spread on top of salad and sprinkle with shredded [cheddar] cheese

If you’re really averse to this flavor combination, you could also enjoy a red Jell-O dish with a blanket of marshmallows and bananas thrown in, or a salad of apples, walnuts, halved red grapes, and Cool Whip.

NOTE: This post was updated on Saturday, Nov. 26 because we realized Gram left the marshmallows out of her dictation. To the dozens of you who undoubtedly made this recipe over the weekend and felt bereft at the lack of another sweet, fluffy ingredient…hope you still enjoyed it.

Photo: Thanksgiving 2009.

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The day after the raid

Update: The following is just one tiny slice of what I heard on Tuesday. For a very detailed account from Zoltán Glück and Manissa McCleave Maharawal, head to Racialicious.

I woke Tuesday, as many others did, to Facebook posts and emails and headlines about the police raid on Occupy Wall Street.

I turned to Twitter. I found it helpful to scroll through Baratunde Thurston’s tweets from the night, so I retweeted one of his. (Later, Baratunde created a slideshow of said tweets, helpful both for its navigability and the mid-tweet slides that he added later for context.)

(Note to my mom, who’s learning to use Twitter, and anyone else who might be unfamiliar: the # is called a hashtag and you can add it to the beginning of any word. In this case, if you’re on Twitter and you click on the #OWS hashtag or do a search for it, you’ll find all of the most recent tweets that folks have tagged as being related to Occupy Wall Street. Also, the “RT” stands for retweet, which basically means that you’re sharing something tweeted by another person with all of your followers. Sometimes people put their own commentary at the beginning of a tweet and follow it with the retweet text.)

I kept an eye on Twitter and retweeted a couple of things that resonated with me.

Emails poured in, mainly from my RISE family. One organizer was in Liberty Square much of the morning and I couldn’t resist sharing one of her lighter dispatches:

After work I went down to the General Assembly, or GA, meeting at the square. There were a lot of police and a LOT of people.

It was my first time really experiencing the human microphone, or the people’s mic, in all its glory. Hundreds of people listened and parroted the announcements and rallying cries. Some related to logistics – should OWS keep people in the park awake, all night, and occupy in shifts? One guy pleaded with the crowd to explore the idea of finding “a space with a roof” and turning OWS into a “legitimate, real nonprofit.” This was met with a stonier reception, but he had his time to speak. Another person described the lewd treatment of women in jail last night, and invited anyone who didn’t think women should be treated that way to march in solidarity immediately following the night’s General Assembly. At various points the facilitators would ask the crowd to sit down on benches or the pavement if they were able; this makes it easier for the sound to ripple back.

I tweeted some people verbatim (or as closely as I could). In reverse chronological order, here’s someone issuing a call for stories for this Thursday’s Day of Action:

I like this idea. I’m going to document some of those signs tomorrow.

Next, some folks from one of the working groups suggested that this enormous crowd break into groups to talk about possible steps forward.

And:

But this was relatively short-lived. On one side of the plaza, some groups did begin to meet. On the other, something happened—I was a little too far away to understand what—and folks started chanting at the cops. And meanwhile, the facilitators were receiving conflicting bits of information.

Still, facilitators encouraged folks not to give up on the dialogue. The emphasis was on talking, talking, talking to one another.

Meanwhile, the mic checks continued with people “on stack.” Someone declared that, as a resident of Harlem, she could spend five nights a week at the square and give up her bed to others who might need it. Another person got up and asked that those of us who cannot attend the day of action this Thursday at least start a conversation with our coworkers about what’s happening.

Then Heidi’s name was called. She got up on a bench and began.

She spoke as a native New Yorker and the powerhouse organizer that we at RISE know her to be. She urged folks to recognize that this is not about one group of people who were arrested last night; this is about people who are arrested every day, the organizing that takes place around that and other issues every day. ”Occupy the Hood,” she implored.

I took a bit of video before my phone battery died. The echo makes it really hard to understand, but I can make out: ”If we wait (if we wait…wait…) for more permission (…more permission…ission)…and more injunctions (…unctions)…we will NEVER succeed. Talk to each other. But then find some people who are going to keep the lights going outside of OWS. We need to occupy everywhere!”

I stayed for a few more speakers after that, including one CUNY/Hunter College General Assembly member, who announced:

“On November 21 students from all CUNY schools “will be marching in solidarity to Baruch College at 4:00pm where the board of trustees will be holding a hearing on five year tuition hikes for CUNY schools and for health insurance or the lack thereof for adjunct professors who only make an average of $3,000 a semester. We will not accept that. We do not accept that. We invite you to march with us at Baruch at 4pm. If you have children, if you have student debt, of you cannot afford an education, this is your moment. Education is a right. Thank you.”

I left around 9:30. The mic checks were still going strong.

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Write like an Elissa

Last weekend I caught up with my friend Elissa.

Three fun facts about Elissa:

1. When I was a senior in college I co-directed The Vagina Monologues. Elissa performed a monologue that required her to spend several minutes naming and then demonstrating different types of moans, culminating— er, climaxing—with a “surprise triple orgasm moan” (emphasis mine). Elissa was very brave and committed to this piece. It was a show-stealer. My favorite memory of the entire weekend is the moment I approached my octogenarian grandma after the first performance. “What did you think, Grandma?” I asked a little nervously. Without missing a beat or so much as nodding in Elissa’s direction, she declared, “Well. That was more than three!”

2. Elissa once wrote a letter that said, “I write like a girl…How does a woman get up and become the writer she wishes she’d be?” In reply, the columnist Dear Sugar published Write Like a Motherfucker. People were so thirsty for this advice that they now purchase a mug with the slogan.

3. Elissa obeyed. Now she is almost finished with her first book. She is also out to make sure that other women write like motherfuckers and get recognized for it. She edits a column called Funny Women (read the submission guidelines) and co-edited The Rumpus Women, Vol. 1.

It’s important to have Elissas in our lives, don’t you think?

Photo: Elissa Bassist reads at Greenlight Bookstore (2011/cell phone pic). 

November post count: 8. 

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Weekend at home

Thursday: Sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa’s.

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More from the weekend—some Cheverly sunshine plus a wedding at Indique Heights—to come.

Photos: Mitchellville, MD (November 2011).
November post count: 7.

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Break a leg

Grandma’s showtime tonight: 7:00.

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11.11.11

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Wishes I’d make today, if I were superstitious:

  • Tomorrow I’m photographing a wedding along with my friends Val and Annie. I wish for calm, fun, focus, fresh batteries, and lots of sparkles during the “Born this Way” finale.
  • This week a couple of my NYC worlds in a way that was uncomfortable and upsetting. Tomorrow my people are meeting to talk about how best to channel our anger and letdown into meaningful action. I wish for clarity of purpose, humor and perspective, and allies.
  • Tomorrow my Grandma will appear onstage for the first time since high school, in a staged reading. Yesterday I watched a dress rehearsal. All of the actresses delivered their lines with relish; none tried to ham it up too much or steal the show. I wish for them working microphones, an appreciative audience, and a smashing cast party.

Photos: Cheverly backyard, 11.11.11.

November blog post count: 5.

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Soul Sanctuary recap

Last week I finally got finished editing my album of photos from my retreat in North Carolina this summer. (Remember this?)

apples to apples

Two of my friends went on Soul Sanctuary retreats at stone circles at The Stone House earlier this year and came back glowing, so I applied for the one in late August – the first ever Soul Sanctuary for Artists.

The application felt just right: not too taxing, but an opportunity for reflection and intention-setting. I remember writing things about photography and writing and organizing. I also remember mentioning that the retreat fell just before my birthday. Wouldn’t it be special, I mused, to spend part of that week in Mebane, North Carolina, looking back on 27 and cooking up some good plans for 28? Yes: I played the birthday card.

art studio

The retreats are free and travel scholarships are available. Members of the Stone House community will even help you get from the airport to the land. I felt so good just waiting in the airport for Emily, the hospitality manager. We chit-chatted our way through the 45 minute drive and before we even reached the fig tree-flanked driveway, I found myself asking casually, “So, I can tell that it’s a huge privilege to be able to experience this. Do you try to always make sure that you’re bringing in newcomers, rather than having people come more than once?” (Read: “This is so dream-like that I can only come here once in my life, right?” I got greedy.)

“Oh, no,” she said. “My understanding is that once you’re in the family, you’re in the family. We encourage people to come back.”

Yessss.

hammock view

Noah's fig cheesecake

The rest of the team—land steward Tahz, chef Noah, and associate director Jennifer—were equally welcoming all week. They kept our bellies filled with hearty curries, just-dug sweet potatoes, and the best granola I’ve ever had. They helped us pick vegetables from the garden, encouraged us to spend our mornings in silence and then egged us on as we laughed loudly over dinner, and made themselves available for all sorts of formal and informal check-ins. They invited us to hang out at their event for The Highlander Center (celebrating 75 years of working for justice!) and they helped me and another New Yorker extend our trip when Hurricane Irene swept up the coast on what was supposed to be our last day in town.

in the little reading room

drain, bug

And I met eight of the coolest artists, activists, and artist-activists I’ve ever met. (Realizing how little time I spend around practicing artists, and cultivating relationships with mentors, was in itself an important birthday gift.)

Ellen O’Grady was our facilitator. If you care about Palestine or Israel or family or stories, take a look at her beautiful book.

breaking the rules

I cried as Kim sang to us. Gail read my first-ever tarot spread. I watched Marjorie dance and laughed as Teresa clucked at the chickens and saw the filmmaking fire in Lenore‘s eyes. Joy Marie made me a birthday cake of marshmallows, Saltines, and peanut butter (and everyone clucked over the fact that I was turning 28 – I’ve never heard the words “Saturn returns” so many times in my life).

And as summer turned to fall, we’ve all followed followed Kayhan to Kabul.

spider!

a couple of dishes

Tonight when I sat down to keep up my little November writing streak, I did not intend to take such a long walk through the memory pasture. But since yesterday’s time change, I’ve felt my energy “falling back.” And staring at the sunshine and hammocks, thinking about all the projects into which these people are pouring themselves, I remember all the things I promised myself I’d remember.

favorite hammock

In case it’s not obvious, I’m very grateful to have had this opportunity and I would encourage anyone reading this to check out the stone circles website and apply. Whenever you go will be exactly the right time.

All photos taken at The Stone House, Mebane, NC (August 2011).

November blog post count: 4 of 30.

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Gaslighting

Person A: I am saying something offensive.

Person B: I take offense.

Person A: Stop freaking out! Don’t you have a sense of humor?

Ouch.

Earlier this week a friend shared Yashar Ali’s A Message to Women from a Man: You Are Not “Crazy.” Ali explains that mental health professionals define gaslighting as “manipulative behavior used to confuse people into thinking their reactions are so far off base that they’re crazy.”

No wonder some women are unconsciously passive aggressive when expressing anger, sadness, or frustration. For years, they have been subjected to so much gaslighting that they can no longer express themselves in a way that feels authentic to them.

They say, “I’m sorry,” before giving their opinion. In an email or text message, they place a smiley face next to a serious question or concern, thereby reducing the impact of having to express their true feelings.

You know how it looks: “You’re late :)”

These are the same women who stay in relationships they don’t belong in, who don’t follow their dreams, who withdraw from the kind of life they want to live.

I do know how that looks. Do you? Does having a name for this phenomenon help?

It helped me set resolutions for the coming week: I will not use a single emoticon. I will not apologize before I express an opinion. I will call out gaslighting when (unfortunately, not if) I see it.

Photo: Lamp in stairwell, St. Istvan’s Cathedral, Budapest (August 2007).

November blog post count: 3.

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Stick Fly

When it comes to family…you’re STUCK.

That’s the tagline of the new play Stick Fly, which premieres on Broadway in a few weeks. On Wednesday, my friends and I went to The Greene Space to see Terrance McKnight interview playwright Lydia Diamond, director Kenny Leon, and the cast. You can see a video of the event here. (You won’t be breathing the same air as Dule Hill and Tracie Thoms—what was that I said earlier about this being National BRAG Posting Month?—but you can do that if you buy tickets to the show!)

As Colorlines and the New York Times noted, this season marks the first time Broadway will simultaneously mount three shows by black women playwrights (and five Broadway plays total this fall will be penned by women, according to Women and Hollywood). Hearing Lydia Diamond speak about how it feels to revise her work and to see the revisions come alive in the hands of actors “at the top of their game” was a highlight of the evening – and the actors and director gushed about the material in return. They couldn’t give away plot secrets, which meant they used words like “universal” and “complicated” and “funny” over and over. But somehow no one seemed to mind – we all just left wanting to hustle and buy our tickets.

So who else is going? Let’s debrief after.

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Photo: some of the family I’m “stuck” with (July 2011).

November post count: 2.

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NaBloPoMo: Pretend it’s November 1.

I just realized it might be a good idea to try National Blog Posting Month. I am already behind. But I saw this earlier in the week: “the fun thing about creativity: the more you use, the more you get.”

USE IT OR LOSE IT, SMITH.

Let’s go back to the first day of the month. Tuesday. Here are some things I might have blogged that day:

  • Who would you like to see speak at a TEDxWomen event (even if it is a special set-aside event for women, when they should be working on changing the ratios at their flagship conference)? And, they asked, “what woman in your life do you feel is a force to be reckoned with in this society and why?” I rattled off a ton on Twitter and would love to hear who comes to your mind.
  • I happened to get together Tuesday evening with Natalia, with whom I partnered to produce a TEDxWomen event last December.  She runs the Pipeline Fellowship, which trains emerging women investors to support women-led startups. If you are in NYC or Boston and have any interest in learning about angel investing, check them out.
  • And then I got to spend some time with Raylab. Do you care about immigration? You should be following her. Do you care about having fun? You should be eating delicious curry with her at The Islands.
Wow. More like National BRAG Posting Month. I feel very lucky to be surrounded with trailblazers like these.
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Photo: Brittany McCandless, Adaora Udoji, CV Harquail, Liza Sabater, and Ritu Yadav speak on the #morevoices panel after TEDx636EleventhAve last year.
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