let's talk
Last year meant a change for some Americans around WASPy expectations of “politeness.” It was a reckoning for some, a lifting of a veil, a reality check. A lot of folks chose to no longer engage in the “manners” of letting everybody “have their own opinion” because, of course, a lot of those supposed opinions are just racism and bigotry, plain and simple.
And the silence around those statements, and the agreement, often unspoken, to not talk about certain things (race, politics, etc.) has contributed to the idea that racism only exists in overt ways or that our legal system is fair for all, or that most of the systems we live under are unbiased, or that all it takes to succeed in this country is to work hard. The silence, though framed as a virtue, is, in fact, an act of violence.
This politeness myth only serves the powers that be and often harms in insidious ways. Silence plays a role in the perpetuation of trauma. Avoiding topics isolates us, keeps us in the dark about everything from abuse and mental health to fair wages and working conditions.
I don’t know why I’ve been thinking about all this. Maybe because, whenever I sit down to write this newsletter, I find myself thinking about the power of writing, of storytelling, in all the forms it takes. The writer, the singer, the poet, the artist enacts an important task and plays an important role. This responsibility can be seen as a heavy burden, or a transformative opportunity.
What I wish for you is that it feels like an opportunity.
prompt #28
Today’s prompt focuses on a topic that some believe shouldn’t be discussed in “mixed company,” whatever that means. This week, let’s take some time to reflect on money.
Get your timer out, set it for five minutes, and follow the trains of thought. Maybe you’ll find yourself writing about having money, not having it, the shame that comes from either of those situations. Maybe you’ll reflect on its values or its faults, all it unlocks or all it locks away. Maybe a specific memory? A certain purchase? A phrase? Maybe a character for whom money is important? See where you go.
If, after five minutes, you have more to explore, let it all loose. If you’d like to hone what you’ve got, shape it. And, finally, if it’s good as is, bravo!
And, as always, send it my way if you’d like to share your piece in next week’s newsletter.
ashley's piece
She’d gotten into this business for passion and with a sense of romance, not for the money. However, the goals of a nineteen-year-old and the responsibilities of a thirty-year-old don’t always align. Don’t usually align, actually.
After almost a decade of working for Carl, Alison was beginning to wonder if that slump in his walk and that awful hollow-eyed look were contagious. On multiple occasions, she’d caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the big glass doors in the office and been surprised to see that that hunched-back, frowning woman was no stranger. It was she.
So, though this job had never originally been about money—she’d been proud to be doing art the “right” way, with a hunger for struggle, in the beginning—that whole narrative no longer interested her. She saw the interns with their ramen lunch and she wanted to yank them by their collars downstairs.
“Leave,” she wanted to say. “Escape while you still can! They won’t give you healthcare! This industry is dying, dead!”
Instead, she grabbed a coke from the fridge and went back to her desk, fantasizing about a better way, dreaming about an exit strategy. She wanted satisfaction now. She wanted actual vacations. She wanted to be able to forget the running tally always calculating in her head, especially frantic toward the end of the month. Though it was a fluff piece, completely asinine, maybe she’d take it. She could see her parents on the magazine’s dime, at least. That would be nice. Maybe she could send some emails, try to take an interview or two on the west coast while she was there. Maybe find her escape route.