A moment to reflect.
Happy 2023 friends, and welcome back to Productivity, Without Privilege! Do you have any new years resolutions that you’re working on? I know we’re halfway through January so maybe you’re already tired of hearing about them, but considering most resolutions are dead by the end of the month, if you’re still working on yours, you’re probably doing pretty well so far, yeah?
Oh! By the way, if you’re new here, my name is Alan Henry, I’ll be your captain this evening, and it’s my pleasure to fly you from the beginning to the end of this newsletter. There may be some turbulence though, so if the seat belt sign comes on, please make sure to buckle your seat belt and remain at your seat until the light is turned off. And while you’re at it, pick up a copy of Seen, Heard, and Paid: The New Work Rules for the Marginalized, out now wherever books are sold!
For now though, I’m writing this on what would have been the 90th birthday of the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. And as I do every year, I reflect on his legacy, his politics, and everything we weren’t taught about him in school. The things that he was villainized for during his time, and that were conveniently washed away from his memory after he was assassinated and eventually used as a prop for even the worst people in our society to say they stand for something when in reality they stand for nothing. So to that point, I’m going to offer Bernice King’s speech at the MLK Jr Beloved Community Commemorative Service this morning, as a reminder of how words are empty without actions, even when those actions are bold and potentially put you at risk of being targeted by people who would vastly prefer you stay silent about the issues that are important to you, and to the people around you.
Remember, silence is complicity.
But now, let’s talk about you, shall we? It’s a new year, and many of you probably have new goals or things you want to accomplish. I’m not a big fan of resolutions in the strict sense, mostly because when Maya Angelou read her incredible poem, “On the Pulse of Morning,” at Bill Clinton’s inauguration in 1993, she said “each new hour brings new chances for new beginnings,” not each new year. Which means that while I love using the turn of the calendar as an opportunity to think about the progress I’ve made toward the life I want to live, and the changes I intend to make to get me even closer in the next calendar year, I don’t, and I don’t think you should, wait for a whole new year before making a change you need to make in your life.
If you are planning on making some sweeping changes, might I recommend my good friend Saira Mueller’s advice on how to set better goals for yourself, and how to break bad habits, both written with the help of neuroscientists, productivity experts, and psychologists (and edited by yours truly.)
But just as I don’t wait for calendar changes to set new goals for myself or try to push myself to make positive change, I also want to (and want to remind you to) pause and acknowledge that hey: we survived. And sometimes surviving is all you can do, especially in a world where a pandemic still rages, one that’s been a mass disabling event in a community that cares quite little about the long-term effects of chronic illness, racist violence is still on the rise, 2023 was the worst year for police violence in this country, the rights of all LGBTQ people, especially trans people, are actively under attack, and several parts of the U.S. government are actively being run by people who dispute its very legitimacy and would prefer to turn it into an authoritarian, fascist one instead.
I wake up in the mornings and often have to remind myself that simply existing, and being a member of a marginalized group, is a radical act. Trying to function as a marginalized person—or rather, a systemically excluded person—is itself radical. You’re trying to survive and thrive in a world that’s structurally configured to minimize you and your efforts, and even if you don’t encounter people in your day to day life that embody that marginalization, the effects of it elsewhere in the world take their toll on you. So you know what? Happy new year, you made it. Many of us didn’t, and we should both celebrate our survival and mourn their loss.
So this week, I want to encourage you to rest, celebrate, and remember.
Plan your next vacation, and at the very least take the time off on your calendar, or submit your time off request for it, even if you don’t have a plan for it. Reach out to your community, your peers, and your friends, and let them know that you support them and you’re glad they’re here. And among your goals and thoughts for the new year, spare some space for a resolution where you resolve to show yourself love, compassion, and self-appreciation. That doesn’t mean it’s all bubble baths and ice cream though (although it should definitely include those things!)
It also means committing to being the best possible version of yourself in every way that matters to you. In my case, that means I need to get some more exercise, even a little more than I get. It means eating better and cooking more. It means showing my mind and body more compassion, and turning some of the energy that I direct outward to things that don’t really matter inward, to me, where it truly does matter. It means caring for myself, my mental health, and re-committing myself to living the life I see inside my head. Before anything else, I advise you to do the same, and to start today.
This hour, if you like. Recommit yourself to acknowledging your own intrinsic self-worth, your own value, your own skills, and your own accomplishments, and nourish yourself accordingly.
Next week I’ll be back with more traditional productivity advice. But for now, spend some energy on yourself.
[ Worth Reading ]
Letter from a Birmingham Jail, by Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.: It’s an iconic speech, one that’s very VERY often forgotten or purposefully omitted from Dr. King’s legacy. If you haven’t read it in the past, disabuse yourself of that gap in your knowledge and take the time to read it today, right now. I think you’ll find it not just interesting, but extremely empowering when you read it in context.
What “The Mindy Project” Did (and Didn’t Do) for Brown Girls on TV, by Zeahaa Rehman: I’m not a huge TV person, so when pretty much everyone I knew told me that the new Velma TV show was both bad, right-wing bait disguised as diversity, and that Mindy Kaling was the showrunner, I knew I was never going to watch it. But I do appreciate this piece, which points out that representation is only representation if you’re allowed to reflect the truth and breadth of your lived experiences, not if you’re just forced to approximate the whiteness at the center of existing power structures, dressed up in your identity.
Onyx Picks Up Gabourey Sidibe Comedy Pilot, Docuseries About Black Twitter, by Lynette Rice: Adding this one in here partially because it’s great news, but also because it’s great news about a colleague of mine whose work I’ve respected and enjoyed for years: Jason Parham’s excellent docuseries Black Twitter is in here, based on his features at WIRED on the same topic. I very truly can’t wait to see how this turns out.
[ See You, Space Cowboy ]
This week I have a little something special for all of you! I know a lot of people start the new year with resolutions and goals and everything, and we talked about how I feel about all of that above. But if you’re starting the new year with the desire to get a new job, get paid what you’re worth, or you’ve been reading this newsletter and somehow, still don’t have a copy of Seen, Heard, and Paid yet, well, I’m giving away 10 copies of my book to you, right here, to newsletter subscribers!
So! To enter, all you have to do is fill out this Google form with your name, your mailing address, and tell me about a goal you’ve set for yourself in 2023, and I’ll randomly choose 10 winners from the batch! So don’t be shy! Tell me what you want to do this year, and you never know, maybe you’ll get a personalized copy of my book to help you get there.