Christmastime in Harlem
Hello friends, and welcome back to Productivity, Without Privilege. I’m Alan Henry, I’ll be your host this evening. Buy my book if you haven’t already, and don’t forget to tip your server, okay? It’s been a tough year for all of us.
Speaking of a tough year—this is the last newsletter of the year! Happiest of holidays to you, your loved ones, friends, family, and everyone else in your lives. I know I only started a few months ago, but thank you, all of you, for coming along on this ride with me. I’m not stopping, but I do want to stop for a moment and express my gratitude, including for those of you who (and I see you!) do belong to the privileged majority in many places, and you’re reading this because you can empathize, you want to be better allies and friends and loved ones to the marginalized folks in your life, or you just, heaven forbid, give a crap about other people.
I know, it’s wild, right? But remember, there are so many people out there who don’t, so please, keep going. Even when it’s difficult. Especially when it’s difficult.
So let’s get right into it, shall we? This week I want to talk a little bit about something that’s near and dear to my heart, that hopefully you all will resonate with as we head into the new year: how to thrive even you’re asking yourself “Why the hell do I keep doing this to myself?” When you’re wondering what it is exactly that’s supposed to get you up and out of bed in the morning.
For me, that starts with one simple maxim that I’ve tried to drill into my own head and the heads of everyone around me for years on end: You are more than the sum of your parts. You are more than your output, more than the things you create, more than the things other people need you for or demand of you. You are more, and you deserve more.
You are more than the number of papers you’ve authored. You are more than your Twitter followers or pageviews or Twitch subs or dollars in the bank or cars you drive or where you live or the gear you own or people you sleep with. You are more than those things that other people deem valuable and important because they’re the traditional markers of “success.” Remember that when you start to buckle under the weight of having to go to work (or go back to work.)
A quick story that I think got cut from the book: When I was a project manager, there were definitely parts of my job that I loved, but there were other parts I hated—same as any job, right? But I can almost viscerally feel the misery when it was starting to get to the point where I knew I didn’t want to be there much longer. I remember, day in and day out, parking my car in the parking lot behind the building I worked in (a building I’d helped design and move us into, actually, a surprising joy and career experience for someone who was in his 20s at the time!) and as I walked across the lot, I watched the hawks floating on the thermals around the corporate park that our office was in. It was perfect for them - warm updrafts, open space, and clear skies. I envied them so much: I considered them free and able to pursue their survival as they saw fit.
Obviously it’s more complicated than that, and I knew it then too, but that was one of the moments that inspired me to decide to try my hand at writing, something I’d been doing as a passion project for a while at that point. It inspired me to take the risks required to jump into something new, and ultimately better, for me and my well-being.
And that’s where you come in. If you’re slaving away at something that causes you pain, something that makes you miserable, something that actively makes you unhappy, I promise you that on the other side of the fear and the uncertainty and the worry and anxiety is a better place.
I’m not saying that it’s easy! I’m not even saying it’ll work out. When I took the leap, I did so because I pored over the math and the variables and planned for my eventual success and my eventual failure and what I’d do in each case. I will never ever tell you to just “go for it!” as if nothing bad could ever happen. For some people, following their dreams was the worst mistake of their lives. So I’m definitely not going to pretend it might be hard, or it might not work out. But what I am going to say is the usual end to stories that start like this: You will regret it if you don’t even try.
For me, I started writing on the side. On nights and weekends, after hours (and sometimes late in the evening when I was still at work and finishing something up,) and in my free time. I had a chance to see if the dream I’d been contemplating might work out before I had to put it all on the line to see. I would wholeheartedly recommend you do the same thing if you can: baby steps, practice runs, step out on the tightrope but over the safety net first, okay?
But the end answer to that question I asked earlier though—what is it that gets you out of bed in the morning?—that’s a question only you can really answer. For me? I wake up in the morning saying to myself “okay, how can I help people today?” And that’s not an exaggeration or a euphemism. Everything I do is guided by that question. For a lot of people in a field like mine (journalism), it’s noble aspirations, which is great, but I advise you to find nobility even in the small things you do, and the things you want to do passionately. In the near year, we’ll talk more about how to get you from where you are now to those things you want to do, but for right now?
Remember your worth and your value extends for leagues and leagues, farther than you even know, no matter what it is you do now, and whatever it is you want to do later.
And with that, happy holidays, and a bright, shining new year to you and yours.
[Worth Reading]
ZZ Plant, by Johnny Sun: If, somehow, you know who I am but you’re not familiar with Johnny Sun, follow him on Twitter. He’s a brilliant writer, has authored several amazing books, and he has a great newsletter with some of the most evocative writing I’ve ever read (and yes, I’m jealous.) Anyway, this particular newsletter is about the ZZ Plant, which I own one of, and how it’s famous for being a plant that essentially thrives on neglect. I don’t want to spoil it, but if you’ve ever trusted me on anything, trust me now: read this.
Most Americans ‘Worn Out’ By Covid, from Monmouth University: It’s probably not news to any of you that we’re “worn out” or “fed up” with this pandemic, this pandemic that canceled my holiday plans, this pandemic that took another chance to see my family from me, and possibly from you and your loved ones too, but what I think remains to be seen over the long term is exactly how big the social hole our 800,000 lost neighbors, loved ones, and friends will be, and exactly how traumatic this will be both socially on all of us, and individually on those of us who suffered with the disease, cared for people who had the disease, lost their jobs because of the disease, and so on. It’s terrifying.
Realizing inequality in news goes a lot deeper than diversity numbers, by Janelle Salanga: As they do every year, Neiman Lab asked a number of journalists what their predictions for 2022 in media would be. This one, from Janelle Salanga, resonated with me specifically because it speaks to something that both matters to me personally, and also because this is something so important for every workplace to understand, not just media organizations. As always, giving me a seat at the table means nothing if I’m not empowered to speak at that same table. Otherwise, I’m just taking up space.
[See You, Space Cowboy]
I’m going to keep the recommendation light this week because honestly, by the time you read this, you’ll probably be exhausted from Christmas and possibly dreading New Year’s. So here’s my recommendation:
Sleep.
I don’t need to be the one to tell you all about the benefits of sleep and why we all stay up late doomscrolling, even though we know we shouldn’t. But I’m not here to advocate for sleep on the basis of productivity. I’m here to let you off the hook of productivity, actually: because right now? This is the Void Week - the time where no one reasonably expects you to do anything but get through it day by day. Take as much of that leverage as you can. Sleep and rest well, and recharge all of your batteries. If there’s any recommendation I can make without any reservation whatsoever, it’s that.
And always, if you haven’t already, do preorder my book, Seen, Heard, and Paid: The New Work Rules for the Marginalized. If you have already, or if you plan to, or even if you wish you could, I thank you. I’m grateful.
See you in two.