November 2024, it's giving

...thanks

November 2024, it's giving

I love my family but don’t love gathering for the holidays. My family has no children — the baby of ours is 30 — so the magical holiday feeling that seems to mostly live within children hasn’t been present for quite some time. During those early pandemic, locked-down years, we were all intensely encouraged to stay home and be safe, and I’ve kind of rolled with that idea since then. For a few years now, my boyfriend and I have put together a charcuterie board and watched a movie and, at least this year, I did not leave the house. Thanksgiving with my family feels like having dinner with my family, which I’d like to do more than once a year, and I’d like to do it on a night that’s not a Thursday. For me, slowly divorcing a holiday from my life is less about the politics of it and more about everything I’ve outlined above; however, the history of it certainly adds to it. I’m happy to not celebrate a white colonizer holiday but I want to be honest that that’s not the real reason I’ve let it fade from my life. I also do not like roasted turkey and am not big into pie — it’s just not my holiday!

Because of thanksgiving, class was canceled this week. I presented a final project in one of my two classes last week because of the weird holiday gap week. I think I did well. I actually ended up going first on the first day, so I accidentally set the tone.

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School has been life-changing and also very chill and easy to work into my life. Starting my now-not-so-new-job has been more life-changing and less chill because working 10-6 in a retail environment is drastically more consuming than a mostly-at-home “office” job, which I’ve worked for the past 10+ years. That’s a lot of babble to say my schedule has changed so much this year so that makes my life feel different but simply being in school doesn’t make it feel that different.

In November, I found time to read. A few things to note before diving in: I read a lot about grief this month, specifically about parents losing their children, one an adult, one an infant. Also, Woody Allen. Okay, love you.

Thanks for reading completely booked! This post is public, so feel free to share it.

[What I read]

Firefly: Ashley's Light by Jane Ashe (2023) | Quick summary: After her adult daughter died in a flash flood far away from home, Ashe embarked on a lifelong search for answers about resolution, peace, grief, death, and carrying on.
Ashley Palumbo and her boyfriend, Tyler Mondloch, died in 1995 while traveling on a post-graduation trip. It must be devastating to lose your daughter in such a way that you have to spend precious months deciding if she’s dead or just missing. Ashe’s story is a beautiful one. Having written this memoir-study on grief decades after Ashley’s death, Ashe can reflect in a deep, honest analysis of her dreams, her feelings before Ashley died, the immediate aftermath, and where she’s at now. I think what I loved most about Ashe’s grief journey is how present she’s kept Ashley. While reading this book, I kept finding myself surprised when little things like Ashley’s birth year (1971) were mentioned because her mother’s grief is so strong and ever-present, even in this year. She loved her daughter; I’m glad she wrote this. This story and Ashe’s grief are local to me and very tied to the nature of the Pacific Northwest. I also liked that a lot.
[nonfiction, memoir, grief, written by a white american retired hospital chaplain and deacon, medium-ish length read]

The Blue Poppy and the Mustard Seed: A Mother's Story of Loss and Hope by Kathleen Willis Morton (2008) | Quick summary: After the death of her six-week-old son, Morton searches for solace and understanding through reflection and travel.
I genuinely apologize for the first couple of books being about mothers losing their children, but that’s my best friend’s reality, and I am back deep into reading about it, desperately looking for the book that will make me go, yes, this one! this one gets it! That mostly doesn’t happen or hasn’t happened yet, but I pull a lot from every grief journey and deeply sad memoir I read. Morton and her husband lost their baby two months after he was born with a rare condition that made survival impossible. After his brief life and tragic death, she reflects on what it all means, largely by relying on Buddhist practices.
[nonfiction, memoir, grief, written by a white american creative writer and practicing buddhist, medium-ish length read]

Just Us: An American Conversation by Claudia Rankine (2020) | Quick summary: In a multimedia experience, Rankine continues challenging her readers to see and fight white supremacy in all its hidden and outright forms.
I read and re-read Citizen after it came out in 2014 but swiftly purchased Just Us after its release yet never read it in full. As the “quick summary” above mentions, Rankine relies on multiple artistic forms, including poetry, images, quotes, lyrical writing, and essays. I respond stronger to some of those formats than others, but something I love about Rankine’s writing is she doesn’t limit herself. She expresses her experiences, her stories and anecdotes, and cultural criticism in whichever way best fits. This is fantastic, and while I tend to pass on books I’ve read, even if I loved them, Just Us went right back on my shelf next to Citizen.
[nonfiction, poetry, essays, Black history, written by a Black american poet, essayist, playwright, and editor, medium-ish length read]

The Employees by Olga Ravn (2020) | Quick summary: A novel exploring the relationship between humans and an android crew aboard a spacecraft.
This is like Alien but Danish! A little book (a novella, I suppose!) about plans gone awry and the forever-conundrum of What if Robots Took Over? I love translated fiction—I find it to be more fucked up and interesting than American fiction. This was fantastic.
[fiction, sci-fi, dystopian fiction, written by a white danish writer, translated by martin aitken, medium-ish length read]

It's OK That You're Not OK: Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture That Doesn't Understand by Megan Devine (2017) | Quick summary: A detailed and helpful approach to people experiencing grief at any stage and a detailed and helpful approach to those who want to support people experiencing grief.
If you’re like my boyfriend, you may wonder, “Haven’t you already read this book?” but the answer is yes and no. I started this book months ago, digitally, and read it until the library stole it back from me. Then I purchased it, flipped through it, and returned to it only in the past few days. That’s not how I tend to read books, but with a book like It’s OK That You’re Not OK, that’s basically the best way to read. It’s OK was written by Devine, known as @ refugeingrief on instagram. She’s fantastic with grief, in my opinion, and that’s likely because she studied it before it applied to her life, and now she has a grief-understanding superpower. She’ll make you and your grieving heart feel less crazy and all the way justified, and she’ll also help your friends and family not totally suck in their support of you. Fantastic book; put it on your shelf ASAP.
[nonfiction, grief and loss; death; written by a white american creative writer and practicing buddhist, medium-ish length read]

[What I heard]

Entrances and Exits by Michael Richards (2024) | Quick summary: The actor and comedian Michael Richards’s memoir.
Michael Richards played Kramer on Seinfeld, which is not just the best thing he’s known for but pretty much all he’s known for. I find Richards interesting; as far as being one of the most iconic and funniest characters in sitcom history, Michael Richards doesn’t show up much. I’ve long wondered if it’s because of The Incident where he got made and called some Black people heckling him on stage the n-word, but after listening to his book, he’s just kind of odd and would likely not have been huge in the spotlight post-Seinfeld anyway. I think the memoir was pretty good in terms of outline and storytelling; I knew nothing about his mother, and wow, there’s a lot there. I do think Richards passes over the racist incident in its introduction, though it became clear that he’s done the internal work since. In fact, shutting up and disappearing is probably the best thing a white male comedian can do after such a terrible about-face. As far as celeb memoirs go, not a bad one!
[nonfiction, celebrity memoir, written by a white american comedian, medium-ish length listen, read by the author]

Runaway Train: Or, The Story of My Life So Far by Eric Roberts (2024) | Quick summary: The actor Eric Roberts’s memoir.
This is the memoir of an actor who has been in many movies and films but an actor many people wouldn’t be able to pick out of a line-up. It may not be fair to say that Eric Roberts, at least in my opinion, is best known as the estranged brother of Julia Roberts and the estranged father of Emma Roberts, but I am saying it. Roberts addresses these relationships and more in the memoir, but ultimately, it felt like him naming famous people and chuckling at his own weird life stories. This belongs in a club with Matthew Perry and John Stamos’s memoir, but this guy doesn’t even have the benefit of being a person deeply ingrained in my heart. His sister does, though! I hated this book.
[nonfiction, celebrity memoir, written by a white american actor and deadbeat dad, medium-ish length listen, read by the author]

Playing Possum: How Animals Understand Death by Susana Monsó (2024) | Quick summary: Research into how animals understand death and dying.
Clearly, I picked up some death and grief books this month! I decided to switch it up and listen to this book by Monsó about animal death and animal grief. Honestly, I wanted more from this book, which may have to do with my choice to listen to the audio instead of reading it with my eyes. Some nonfiction books don’t land as well listening, and this was one of them. The cover is lovely, though!
[nonfiction, celebrity memoir, written by a white american actor and deadbeat dad, medium-ish length listen, read by lisa s. ware]

Undiplomatic: How My Attitude Created the Best Kind of Trouble by Deesha Dyer (2024) | Quick summary: A hip-hop journalist and community leader tells her story of landing one of the most exclusive positions in Barack Obama’s White House.
Because I’ve been obsessively playing Stardew Valley, I decided to dive into some audiobooks I’ve had on my list that sort of apply to grad school. As I’m studying social work and am also interested in social work, a lot of the books on my TBR seem like they could be school assignments. This book wasn’t assigned to me for school, and I can’t remember why it’s on my list, but I picked it up anyway — and didn’t actually super love it. I bet I would have been deeply inspired by Dyer’s story ten years ago, but now that I’m anti-politician, I feel less moved by Dyer’s exploration into joining the white house staff. That said, I’m proud of her. It takes a lot for me to not be proud of a Black woman and working for the Obamas iiiis pretty cool.
[nonfiction, memoir, political study, written by a Black american award-winning strategist, organizer, and executive operations expert, read by the author]

We Live for the We: The Political Power of Black Motherhood by Dani McClain (2019) | Quick summary: A guide to parenting Black in uncertain times.
Now this is a book that holds up, regardless of politics. I immediately wanted to give it to all my parenting friends, especially the ones parenting Black kids. McClain does a lovely job detailing her experience and tying it into the reality of parenting in a white supremacist society. This is exactly the kind of book I think we should be reading in my social work classes. This is exactly the kind of book I think people who are parenting or will parent should read. It’s not even outdated, though it was published in 2019, so props to that.
[nonfiction, motherhood, political study, feminist theory, race theory, written by a Black american writer, read by the author]

Then Again by Diane Keaton (2012) | Quick summary: The memoir of actress Diane Keaton.
Diane Keaton is so beloved, by me and everyone. Unfortunately, largely because of her relationship with Woody Allen, she is also one of the more problematic beloved actresses. Though you do admittedly have to endure a lot of Woody Allen praise, this memoir is largely focused on Keaton’s mother. Her mother kept journals through much of her life, at least much of her life as a mother, and they are weaved beautifully through Keaton’s own story and journal entries on love, life, parenting, and the like. I love it when a celebrity memoir is actually a story of a mother and daughter in disguise.
[nonfiction, celebrity memoir, written by a white american actress, read by the author]

[What I recommend]

  • If you’ve lost a child or want to support someone who has: Firefly and The Blue Poppy and the Mustard Seed
  • If you’re grieving or know someone who is: It’s OK That You’re Not OK
  • If you’re a white person on their anti-racist journey: Just Us: An American Conversation
  • If you’re a weirdo: The Employees and Entrances and Exits
  • If you watch Nancy Meyers movies and cry about your mom: Then Again

Wishing you strength and the reminder of autonomy this holiday season. If you really don’t want to do it, don’t! Read a good book, tell me about it, be kind to yourself, see you in Jan.

xo

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