hangout post the first

Posted byprofmolliePosted inhangout, in the time of coronavirus

Welcome to our first off-topic on-purpose post.

I think it’s feeling important to all of us to stay connected right now, and this is a place where we can do that. I’m still (as I’ve already said several times by now!) sad and mad about the loss of our classroom, but there are some ways that we can keep building a space together, and this is one of them. I also remain really interested in what the record of this time in American life will look like, and this might be a place to feel like we’re contributing to it—and as was mentioned in our Zoom call yesterday, times of chaos can also be times of change and possibility. What might we make together?

This extremely photogenic fella does not belong to me, but if the friend to whom he does belong clears out of the city, he is coming back to my place & if that happens I can promise quality cat content. His name is Tommy. Tommy loves you even though he’s never met you.

Here’s something I’ve been reading that feels sustaining to me, even though it also taxes the limits of my currently-distracted intellect: “I don’t know how to live without doing research,” says the fascinating scholar behind the origin of the Afrofuturism movement in an interview.

10/10 the creepiest thing I’ve seen all week.

A first-person reflection on how art & culture can get us through tough times, with a movie recommendation.

A really fluffy sheep.

20 thoughts on “hangout post the first”

  2. I noticed how now that technically I have more free time to sleep and relax, I’m actually doing less of it 😂

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    1. I just finished reading “The Silence” and I almost broke down. The way he described his trauma; felt too relatable. Every word he uttered, I felt I was in his shoes and he was in mine. Not to say my experiences are the exact same, but they were similar. I couldn’t help but empathize his experiences. I appreciate that he was honest and forthright. I loved the story and its impact to me. Though our outcomes might be different, the lessons about moving forward in his story exemplifies the saying “whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.”

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      1. It’s a really, really moving piece.

        I think one of the things that really sticks with me about it is the way silence offers trauma a place to grow. Diaz was a writer long before he was willing to write about his own trauma, of course, so maybe it’s a writer’s instinct to think about articulating things as a way of working through them—but other accounts of trauma, including by non-writers, share that aspect, often. It seems to me like there’s something about being able to articulate, name, describe that’s bound up in the ability to move forward. Does that seem right?

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        1. Yeah, it’s the ability to overcome adversity. I enjoyed the story because it didnt hold back any shots. You felt the pain, you felt the uncomfortable experiences, and you felt how it not only damaged him but shaped him.

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          1. The not holding back seems really important to me too. I wonder if the fact that you (and Michelle too, over in the other post) talk about feeling his experiences vicariously suggests something about the value of his articulating them—if “the silence” is about a refusal to speak, is it also a refusal to feel? This essay always makes me think that speaking and feeling go together in some way (although obviously he still feels a great deal when he’s unable to talk about or acknowledge his experiences).

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            1. It’s that part of us that feels ‘no one can understand what we’ve gone through”. I admire that he had the strength to say it and how all his stories were affected by his trauma.

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  6. Here’s a question I’m wondering about: what does it look like outside in your neighborhood?

    I live in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, across the street from the park, on a residential avenue between two commercial strips. The coffee shop across the street is closed, but the bodega is still open, and there’s a little foot traffic coming and going to it. There’s also some foot traffic around the entrance to the park—families taking kids out to play for a bit, people walking their dogs, some folks running. It’s much quieter than usual. Some people wearing masks. Even car traffic is much less than on an average afternoon.

    What do you see when you look out the window?

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    1. A lot of cars. I live in New Rochelle. People are cautious. Most the pharmaceutical and supermarket employees have gloves and mask. The cashiers maintain a yard distance. I had to drive the other to a Rite aid to get my father’s prescription; the cashier threw the prescription because of the distance between us. Some people are taking measures and finding ways to stay protected.

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