CLH Words

Why do I write? I have been struggling with this question for almost a decade now. There is no single answer. Thankfully, this post isn’t about why I write (at least not fully), so I don’t have to answer that question here—yay procrastination. I raise the question because I want to talk about my intent for this blog a bit. One answer to why I write is because I want—need—to make sense of the world and my thoughts about it. Writing, for me, is a great way to do this. It lets me get everything lined up and understandable.

So, why do I write this blog?  I have accepted the title of community builder, begrudgingly. I like people, I like helping them, talking to them, and building connections. Community is more than just people you know, more than a friend group. In part, a community helps its members grow. I write to understand. I create, in part, theory—a framework of understanding. And I want to share this understanding with others, in the hopes it helps them grow. I do this in my personal life, but I also (try) to do it here. Yet, theory is only part of the equation of change.  

               I was a senior in college in the summer of 2020. Due to the start of the pandemic, I was living with my parents. I was also writing a lot; between my English creative writing major and Women and Gender Studies certificate, I was spending a lot of time shaping my thoughts into words. Outside of class, I did not write much. I learned to make sourdough, played video games, took up drawing, and many other hands on activities. Almost all my writing was dedicated to class. And I was learning a lot. Writing put my thoughts in order, while my other various activities let me live.

               That summer, the BLM movement caught national attention. I was already familiar with it, identifying as an abolitionist. In my WGS coursework, I read and wrote, a ton of theory, including abolitionism, defunding the police, and the like. I had a strong understanding of it, at least in an academic sense. My thoughts on the matter, more or less, were in order; I was ready to do something with my knowledge.

               In an attempt to put my theory and thoughts to practice, I organized a Zoom call with my family. We, like many families, were still new to the whole distance interaction, but with my family spread out across three households, all of whom had high risk from COVID, it made sense. The semester before, I had taken the WGS class Women, Race, and Ethnicity. I took some readings from that class—hooks, Lorde, and the like—and had my family read them ahead of the call. We met and had a discussion around the theory, the on-going protests, and where we fit in this as a middle-class white family. It was a good discussion, the kind I was used to in any of my classes. But…it also felt off. I had planned the call to do something in response to, and support of, the ongoing uprising. Yet, as my already liberal family discussed the theory that we all, more or less, agreed with, it dawned on me for the first time that thinking and learning about theory was not the same as living it. Writing and discussion help me, and my family, understand the world, but understanding is not action.

               I love my family, my friends, my coworkers, my community. And I love theory. So naturally I educate, discuss, explore, and shape it with my community. Yet, by and large those around me already agree, at least on the surface, with most of what the theory is saying. My sister had lent me her copy of The New Jim Crow a few months before that Zoom call. Discussing bell hooks with her did not change her mind about anything. That is not to say these conversations don’t do anything, but by themselves they are just talk.

               So what does doing something actually look like? Well, it can look like many things. I do not generally enjoy big things—my anxiety and autism prefer small, bite sized routines. When I plan a group event, a discord server call, IRL hang out, or the like, I get anxious. So things like protests or other big activities that most people think of are not for me (but they are still very important). The way I have found to make change as well as theory is to live intentionally by my values. An issue I run into a lot doing trainings is participants will agree with everything I say (or at least pretend to) yet still go out and commit microaggressions and refuse to take responsibility. Theory is not meant to just be read but to be understood and then lived. Theory is the roadmap, but I still have to drive the damn car.

               I come back to my writing. When I originally started writing this piece, I claimed that I do not write theory. But that is not true (hence why it is not in the final version). These blog posts, titled reflections, are just that: what I have been reflecting on recently. Yet, they are still theory. They are me examining the world and making sense of it. But beyond that, I try and write them around a take away. They are separate from my (much rarer) non-fiction pieces here because they are meant to be rough. The real world is rough. Yet they are supposed to also be actionable. They are meant to filter my thoughts and ideas down to be something that you can read and understand what I am thinking about in a way that lets you live up to your/our shared ideals. I write with intent. Please read with intent and then live with it.