October 2022, October

I met a man named Milton Kidd the other day. Milton’s tongue, thick in his mouth, made it hard to understand him at first, especially with the rush of Seattle traffic—both foot and wheel—passing by. I was out for a drink with a few coworkers after an incredibly rare nearly-full day in the ghost of an office we once occupied. The few of us were at an (outside) table, discussing what was next for us all, career-and-otherwise, when Milton interrupted, asking if I’d order him some fish & chips.

I don’t have a lot of spending money and can’t really fit in fish & chips for a stranger, but I have a long-standing gut-imposed guideline in my life that I take care of Black people whenever and wherever I can. I ordered the fish and thought that would be the end of the conversation, but he kept chatting. He asked if we were all Washingtonians, and for how long, and shared that he was a lifelong resident, one of 9 siblings, though only four of them are still alive. His nickname is Meatball, and has been since he was a little kid. When he was first sharing his nickname Meatball, I thought he said “mimbo” and then “mimbone” and when we finally got to “Meatball,” he beamed. “Meat-ball! Since I was a baby.”

Meatball, one of nine kids, somewhere in the middle, is 74, and since the eldest Tholmer sibling, my aunt Theresa, died last year at 96 years old, he’s now one of three of his siblings left. It’s not that Meatball reminded me of my dad specifically, it’s that I was drawn to him for his experiences, his kindness, his ease of engaging in conversation with strangers, his ability to ask for what he wanted—fish & chips—and most importantly, his familiarity. For just a moment, I had an experience that both reminded me that I’m not suddenly incapable of a conversation with strangers, I just have a different tolerance for who I want to talk to. And I’ll always want to hear a Black man’s story, even if it comes at the cost of fish & chips.

Here’s what I read in October.

a gentle reminder that you can pay for a version of this letter if you’re so inclined/flush to do so

[Books I read]

White is for Witching: a novel by Helen Oyeyemi (2009) | Quick summary: Creepy ass twins have a lot of weird stuff going on, including the spirits of the women who have died before them.
I think I read this because my friend Dave told me to, and we usually agree on Helen Oyeyemi, who I just do not understand. (Sorry if I’m mistakenly crediting you for this recommendation, DW.) I also picked this up because every October, I plan to read and watch "~spooky stuff~ and always let my library holds dictate what I actually end up consuming which is never seasonally appropriate. White is for Witching was weird as hell and if you asked me to explain it to you, you’d think I didn’t read it at all but I did and I was appropriately creeped out from time to time, especially since the novel is about TWINS.
[creepy fiction, literary fiction, written by a Black British novelist, medium length read]

Torn Apart: How the Child Welfare System Destroys Black Families—and How Abolition Can Build a Safer World by Dorothy Roberts (2022) | Quick summary: A devastating and realistic expose on child welfare and why we should burn it all down.
”The family-policing system was designed to regulate rather than support them,” is one of many lines that sums up Torn Apart. 20 years after Dorothy Roberts published Shattered Bonds, an exploration into reforming the child welfare system, Roberts has a new thesis. Spending decades working on task forces and sitting in court rooms and providing and taking trainings and talking to people with lived experience, the only conclusion Roberts believes exists at this point is to entirely abolish “child welfare,” or, as she prefers to refer to it as, “family policing.”

“The family-policing system can’t be fixed. It must be abolished. We need instead a paradigm shift in the state’s relationship to families—a complete end to family policing by dismantling the current system and reimagining the very meaning of child welfare.”

I work in this field. For five years, I’ve been paid a salary to be complicit in the policing of Black and brown families. A few months ago, while stoned journaling, I scrawled down the line, “how do I make this up to the biological moms?” I assumed that thought would be fleeting, but there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about it, and my complicity in this system.

Something I continue to dwell on and dream about as I explore my abolishing all of the systems that feel personally harmful to me and my community is how important money is. As Roberts points out, if states sent families monthly or annual stipends or stimulus checks instead of taking their kids because of a lack of finances, homes, or resources, so much would be different. Better. From my personal experience, even after being told by society that money doesn’t buy happiness, it definitely at least buys security and stability, which are often key factors in a person’s happiness. This book changed me, or rather gave me words and data for feelings I’ve had for a long time. I knew this book had shifted me as a person and a professional when I finished it but almost a month later, I know that to be true. I’m forever grateful to Roberts and will continue to be as I hurriedly read all of her work.
[nonfiction, Black sociological studies, systems and child welfare, written by a Black American sociologist, law professor, and social justice advocate.]

Amazons, Abolitionists, and Activists: A Graphic History of Women's Fight for Their Rights by Mikki Kendall, illustrated by A. D’Amico (2019) | Quick summary: A fun, light-hearted but interesting graphic novel following key figures and events that have advanced women and LGBTQ+ rights.
What a beautiful and fun way to learn about history. This is a YA book so it reads a bit youthful in places but that didn’t bother me because I like history lessons for kids. It’s much more fitting for me personally, and if there are lovely photos to boot? I’m in. And even though it is largely about women’s history, the author and illustrator do not leave trans, nonbinary, and other LGBTQ+ identities out of this history. It’s all encompassed, and maybe this goes without saying, but white women are not centered or heralded in a way that erases Black and Indigenous women. Hurrah all around.
[historical nonfiction, YA graphic novel, written by a Black writer, diversity consultant, and “occasional feminist,” art by a white, queer Michigan-based artist]

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin (2022) | Quick summary: The collapse of society involves some intense, horrific gender wars.
I cannot stop thinking about this book. Speaking of reading scary shit this month, Manhunt takes place in a society that has collapsed after a huge downfall referred to as “t-day.” This novel is innovative, direct, disgusting, and a delight. While logging this novel on storygraph, I put more content warnings than I ever have for any novel I’ve read. If you’re squeamish (they…eat…human balls for sustenance) or have complex feelings about gender, be careful going in. (Note: Felker-Martin is trans. And also dating Nicole Cliffe which is irrelevant but also just a good bit of goss if you also spent too much time on twitter in the 2010s.)
[queer fiction, horror, sci-fi, written by a white Massachusetts-based horror author and film critic]

Girls That Never Die: Poems by Safia Elhillo (2022) | Quick summary: A collection of poems largely exploring Muslim girlhood, shame, and many angles and dangers of being a woman.
As a non-poetry person who tries to read poetry from time-to-time, Elhillo’s were some of the best I’ve ever read. Some of her poems were far above my head and some made me inhale sharply, full of thick feelings.
[nonfiction, Black poetry collection, written by a Sudanese-American poet]

I really wanted to finish The Shining by the end of today but I didn’t! I made it about halfway through but the book is long and my cover is a mass market paperback that I wish was cuter to hold! But onto audio…

[Books I heard]

You Are Your Best Thing: Vulnerability, Shame Resilience, and the Black Experience by Tarana Burke, Brené Brown, and a variety of writers including Keah Brown and Laverne Cox (2021) | Quick summary: An essay collection recognizing the trauma of white supremacy and the fullness of Black life.
Some essays are much better than others, which isn’t saying anything all that unique about an essay collection. In an audio version, it is too bad that not every essay was read by its writer, which most of you know I prefer. I don’t want to read the nonfiction words of someone read by someone else unless there’s a perfectly good reason for it. This book was just okay overall and I didn’t leave it with any better of an impression of Brené Brown than I had before I started it. (My take on Brené Brown can be summed up in “idk and should I care and why doesn’t everyone love this white woman?”
[nonfiction, essay collection (memoir and bio/social psychology), written by a variety of Black writers including Tarana Burke, read by some of the writers and talent like Mirron Willis, Bahni Turpin, JD Jackson, and L Morgan Lee.]

The Fellowship Of The Ring: Lord of the Rings Part I by J. R. R. Tolkien (1954, this version re-recorded in 2021) | Quick summary: Frodo has the ring and needs to do something with it!
My baby brother has begged me to read the Lord of the Rings trilogy for like 20 years now. I have a sordid history with this tale—I was mad it won Best Picture in 2003 and refused to watch it for years—and honestly never thought I’d make it here, having “read” one of these books. But this was a delight! After having tried to read the novel itself a few times in my life, it turns out all I really needed was a little Andy Serkis narration. I’m now on hold for Part II!
[classic fiction, fantasy trilogy, written by a white English writer and philologist.]

[What I recommend]

• If you have worked in, been in, or are a victim of the child welfare system. Or if you’re a person who has never given it any thought, Torn Apart: How the Child Welfare System Destroys Black Families—and How Abolition Can Build a Safer World is required reading.
• Especially if you have not-super-young kids: Amazons, Abolitionists, and Activists: A Graphic History of Women's Fight for Their Rights is a delight for your bookshelf.
• If you can handle it and intense gender stuff, Manhunt rules.

More at the end of the month! I hope all of your reading dreams come true before the end of this incredibly strange, transitional year.

“But then, maybe, ‘I don’t believe in you’ is the cruelest way to kill a monster.” White is for Witching

“A Judge McClellan in Lansing had authority over me and all of my brothers and sisters. We were ‘state children,’ court wards; he had the full say-so over us. A white man in charge of a black man’s children! Nothing but legal, modern slavery—however kindly intentioned.” Malcolm X, as quoted in Torn Apart

“This nation’s terroristic approach to protecting children blames the most marginalized parents for the impact of race, class, and gender inequalities on their children, obscuring those unequal structures and the need to dismantle them.” Torn Apart

“Once upon a time rich, white suburban women had come to get pumped full of hormones and have their eggs hoovered out of them and shotgunned back in once fertilized, to lay broods of three or four or five plump little grubs who could grow up to carry on the family pill addictions and fight over grandma’s bequests and major in philosophy at expensive liberal arts colleges where they learned to care very much about the poor and the downtrodden and also to never, ever touch them or engage them in conversation.” Manhunt

“There will be no children of my own to carry to their waiting beds. & the city that belonged to me has gone, was never mine, I dreamt it, I wrote it down, invented it, made all of it up, everything but the smell of corn roasting sweetly on the street below.” Girls Never Die

“I have my mother’s mouth and my father’s eyes; on my face they are still together.” Warsan Shire, as quoted in Girls Never Die