I’ve been struggling with writer’s block lately. I’ve only been posting about sewing and reading because those things are easy to write about. How did I make this thing? I can tell you. What did I think of this book? I’ll let you know.
The other things on my mind are much harder to articulate.
Sunday passed with news of the two newest mass shootings, one of which appeared to racially motivated. (I say appeared because I have not gone back down the rabbit hole of news articles related to the shootings since I read two initial NPR articles).
I felt like I couldn’t just post as usual the next day, but what could I say or do? I wanted to load my kids in our truck and drive down to Washington, D.C. I wanted us sit as close to the White House lawn as they would let us and remain in silent protest until someone DID something.
There are a lot of stories white people tell themselves to feel better about race.
Stories like, my ancestors were Quakers and abolitionists, the unspoken conclusion being, so we weren’t/aren’t part of the problem. Or, I live in New York State, and our part of the country wasn’t complicit in the slavery of the South. Sometimes something happens that pulls the pants down on your story and exposes it as fiction.
Enter The Comet’s Tale.
I wanted to make one more Strata top in cotton, and my girls were asking when I was going to make them something.
For years, I sewed exclusively for the kids, or else for our house (quilts, pillow shams, curtains, etc.) so it’s no wonder they were confused when I spent an entire month and a half sewing for myself.
Anyone who’s ever made a pie knows they sure don’t come from nowhere. The labor involved is why it’s been over a year since I made one. But the fact that the pies in this book remained anonymous when it mattered is a big part of its charm.
One of the first things I came across the morning of July 4th was this post on my Instagram feed from @themelanatedbirth:
While you’re out popping fireworks, lighting sparklers, and barbecuing with your friends today, I ask that you pause and reflect on the fact that the over 300,000 slaves that were brought to this country did NOT gain freedom on this day in 1776.
.
Think of the natives who were killed and displaced to colonize this country, so you can tell folks to “go back to where they came from”.
.
Likewise, consider all of the men, women, and children who are spending today in the horrible conditions that are the “detention” 🙄 camps….those people who have come to this country, not to steal, kill, and rape, but to provide better lives for their families.
Consider them as you scarf down those hot dogs and drink your beers because ‘Merica.
I was already having some real mixed feelings about this holiday.
