talking about race/eating more vegetables

what do vegetables and race have to do with each other?

asparagus with lemon zest & cold creek farm artisan butter

a question i have, and it's not really rhetorical:  when you want to get healthier you eat more vegetables, or drink more water, or exercise more, etc. according to concrete, scientifically proven methods.  when you want to become less racist & contribute to a more racially just world, what actions do you take?

i read "a complete guide to 'hipster' racism"  in jezebel today by lindy west (i'm in love with this woman!)  , and she articulated so well the problem with denying racism, with accepting the benefits of belonging to a dominant racial group in a racist society without acknowledging or taking any actions to rectify the situation.

one thing that really struck me was when west said she works every day to be less racist.  since i'm spending this year focusing on small daily practices, i had the thought what daily practices make a person less racist, or contribute to the creation of greater equality in the world?  

that is not a rhetorical question.

here's what lindy west says:


When people are trying to be sensitive about race but they don't know what to say, they usually go with, "Well, race is a complicated issue." Except, no, it's not. Race is one of the least complicated issues that there is, because it's made up. It's arbitrary. It's as complicated as goddamn Santa Claus. Oh, that guy's mom was half-black, which makes his skin slightly more pigmented than mine, which therefore means that he's inherently 12.5% lazier than me? Science! Um, no. What's actually complicated is our country's relationship with race, and our utter ineptitude at talking about it. We suck. I mean, I work on it every day, and I'm still a total fuck-up*. But this new scheme someone came up with—where we prove we're not racist by acting as casually racist as possible? Not our best, white people. Not our best.

so read the whole article. it's great--very incisive and saying some things that need to be said, and then tell me what you think about the whole daily practice thing.  for me to make changes i have to

mushrooms, cabbage, spring onions & chicken over yukon asiago mashed potatoes served in pottery made by lula

a) believe there's a problem that needs to be fixed, b) have a plan of action that i will actually adhere to (not too overwhelming or discouraging, in other words) and c) believe that my actions will be efficacious.

*it's been a week of posts containing the f-word.  in totally necessary ways.  we can talk about it some time if you want.  if you haven't already, please read guest blogger natanya ann pulley's post from monday--it goes with the theme of the week.  also--

**read something that proves there's still racism, in case you're doubting, from this week's news.  rad writer ana castillo was banned from a visit to a tuscon high school.  surely not because she's a chicana, right?

The Leather Paintings of Winfred Rembert

Short post, but today I found out about Winfred Rembert, a folk artist from Georgia who works his narrative paintings into leather, a skill he picked up in the maximum-security prison in Reidsville, GA.  

"Memories of My Youth"

We found ourselves with the use of a car, and so--instead of taking the subway to Brooklyn for the closing hour or so of the Feminist Zine Fest after work--we got into the car and drove out of the city, up the Hudson River and into Yonkers where we had 30 minutes to peruse the Hudson River Museum before it closed.  The Hudson River Museum is just like it says, right on the Hudson and seems mostly devoted to the art of painters from the Hudson River School and the ecology of the river--natural-history style, but they had this incongruous show on the lower level, and I was drawn immediately to it.  The paintings in it exuded energy and movement and as I got closer and absorbed the narratives, the artist's statements in curatorial cards next to each, I was--there are no other words--shaken to my core, especially the paintings of the artist's near lynching.

Finding art like this and so unexpectedly makes me feel like my life's not over yet. Does that make sense? That I can still be shaped by what I see and do. Does this sound lame?

"The Baptism" 

Then we got back into the car and drove through Hastings on the Hudson to Dobbs Ferry to eat, a trip that took about 15 mintues, the towns are so closely clustered.  But after seeing Rembert's show, I had a nagging question:  why is Yonkers so depressed (shuttered business, pawn shops and check cashing shops, drug and alcohol rehab centers) and Hastings--right next door--so affluent?  What happened to Yonkers?  

Here's a video from Rembert's opening at the Hudson River Museum: