Kern Carter's Blog, page 130
January 3, 2021
Love Letter to 2020
Creator: @sirdexrjones(Thank you Kern Carter for creating this project)
Dear 2020,
You were a next-level paradox. You were the worst and best year of my life at the very same time. Our world was surrounded in death, destruction while co-existing with growth and disruption. The world looks so different from last year. I am not the same as I was last year.
I wanted to take a moment and reflect on all the amazing gifts and opportunities you have brought me. I also wanted to take time to reflect on what I have learned and what I am calling forth for 2021.
2020 GiftsLearning to find a home in myself and knowing that the highest form of success is finding comfort within myselfBeing a creator and making content about how to develop a meaningful relationship with emotionsThank you Deepika Mahadevan for being an amazing vocal coach and helping me to learn how to sing without losing my voiceTook at powerful Diversity and Inclusion 101 Course with Your Career Girl which helps me every day in my new roleGetting published in Macleans and getting pictures taken by the fabulous Lucy L.Staying more connected to family even though we were far awayAte like a boss and learn to make amazing food in the kitchenParticipated in Breathwork with Jennifer Mansell (You are amazing)Completed Heidi Walks’ Self Compassion Course (http://heidiwalk.com/mindful-self-compassion/)Joined Barbara Erochina How to Feel and Inner Child Course (Thank you for your gifts)Worked with Shaun Phelps to be kinder to myselfJoined Breakthrough Academy with Blake & DaveWorking with the amazing beliefs coach Angelika Baum https://greendoorrelaxation.net/Started my Certificate program in Diversity and Leadership At Centennial CollegeAmazing coaching and conversations with Emily BuckBecame Diversity and Inclusion Program Manager for Publicis Groupe CanadaI truly discovered my love for Everything Korean. I am so in love with the Blackpink, Pork Bone Soup, Kimichi Rice, and Korean dramas-Its ok not to be ok and Crash Landing On To You. I’m so in withdrawal I am thinking about watching Crash Landing AgainFell in love with dancing with some Afro beats moves from Kukuwa Fitness and Socabeats with The Boss Chick Dance WorkoutBecame an art collector and surrounded my house with amazing art thanks to iCanvasWas able to connect with friends near and far — having amazing friends call to check on how I was doing just becauseSpeaking at Rachel Pre Teen Club about diversity and inclusion (LOVE YOU RACHEL)Discovered my love for music from all over the world and created a playlist of songs that make me want to Wake up and Dance https://open.spotify.com/playlist/62Umx5rTlaopZyKQHvNa59What I overcame and grew throughBeing an extrovert and being learning to being ok in my own companyAdapting to a world where everything is/was virtualFeeling stuck and thinking that nothing can/will move forwardBelieving that something is wrong with me because I have depressionBelieving that life is not for me3 Words to summarize 2020:Discomfort
Growth
Disruption
What I am leaving behind in 2020:Believing that I can’t do itBelieving that things need to appear in front of me in order for me to believe that they will happenBelieving that I need to be happy all the time in order to be “normal”Viewing Self-limiting Beliefs as Facts- Fear, Self Doubt, etc are only thoughts and they are not the truthEquating self-worth to approval from othersNot believing my own inner wisdomNeeding to know the future and Needing to know the answers-What I am calling into for 2021:Trust life -Trust that life is taking my hand and say I’ll show you the way. I don’t need to know all the answers or how things will turn outBeing outcome-driven — feeling what I want in my body in this moment and trusting life’s timingDelighted with Life — Having a deep resolve to find small joys as often as humanly possibleConsistency- Keep my promises to myself and bet on myselfThe practice of full acceptance — to give myself the space to feel whatever is thereListen to inner wisdom and guidance — believe I am divinely supportedMy Word and Wish for 2021:Consistency: To consistently focus more on what I can control and let go of what I can’t control
Happy New Year Everybody! Be well. Be Kind and I wish you endless amounts of joy and abundance in 2021.
Love Letter to 2020 was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
January 1, 2021
A Love Letter To The Year of Perfect Vision
Why I Have to be Grateful for 2020, for CRY
Dear 2020,
You’re getting a real bad wrap. I don’t think it’s fair. There’s a lot of shit that’s wrong with what’s been happening in the world, but time itself, you, you’re not the issue.
I strongly believe that you wanted to be challenging. You wanted to make everyone see in the year of “perfect vision”. I’m okay with it.
You get to go down as the beacon of polarity, the aggravator of extremes. You emboldened everyone. You are the bringer of disease and involuntary isolation. You are the revelation toward new eras. You are the necessary context for celebrating all of us children who learned how to socialize on the internet before we could speak conversationally, at length, in person. You are the normalization of the human cyborg. You are the test for quantum existence, as I have been both here, in my room, and all over the world (in my room) all year on Zoom. And you know what? I love it. I love you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’m on the spectrum of many conditions that marginalize me socially. I’ve accepted it, 2020, and I love my colorful life nonetheless. I’m a most-likely autistic, nonbinary, Black and Pinxy polymath and hermit. Interacting with human beings was already difficult before all of this, 2020, so I’ll have you know that my transition into lockdowns was pretty damn smooth. For the first 5 months, I actually very much enjoyed it. I read an article that made me feel that I perhaps may be a psychopath for this. I know I am not, and that this topic really deserves some nuance, but I considered it.
2020, you fucked with my personal time-space continuum, and I love you for it.
I started you off hosting a transgender speakeasy at a 1920’s themed blow out with my closest friends at Penfield Mansion, one of Sinatra’s old pads. It was a moment for you. For me, it was surreal. I am still astounded by every bit of effort that went into this event. My favorite memory was when D.L. Shultz got a few cisgender, straight men to experience gay sex by word, with our mixed audience at large seated in various thrones, or laying neatly on the master bed, eating it all up.
Nonetheless, I returned home during the witching hours of January 1st sick and dying with alcohol poisoning. I decided that day I would no longer drink to get drunk. 2020, thank you for that.
A photo of myself in a foyer section of Penfield Mansion, at the Gatsby-themed 2020 NYE Party my friends and I threw as a fundraising benefit for Make-A-Wish.I also decided that work in the sciences, the way I was expected to do it by my alma mater, had not been serving me. I temporarily removed myself from my lab positions and associations and got my first “real” job in February. I commuted everyday for two hours to a headquarters where I stocked up with doorhangers and pamphlets. I knocked on hundreds of doors to campaign for Yes on R, which saw a glorious victory. In March, I got hired by another renowned canvassing organization, only to find that I would not be returning to work. I was both terrified and relieved.
This pushed me to start skateboarding professionally, bringing me on set of major auditions, ads, music videos, and fashion campaigns before I could even really ollie. I learned that, with skateboarding, all you gotta do to become a professional is have fun. I am still flabbergasted by this.
On my way up a ramp. Photo taken by my friend St. Bishop at a Queer Skate Los Angeles meetup I organized early 2020.And no, 2020, I didn’t pay a lot of my rent. I couldn’t. And even when I could, there were people who needed funds and my labor first. But it’s okay, these folks didn’t pay either.
I am also grateful for what you have done to my relationship to place. It has changed for the better, and has sharpened my fight. Blessed be the lands upon which I have been living on, lands cultivated and stewarded still by Tongva, Chumash, and Paiute people, as well as my ancestors in the African diaspora.
All year I have watched the birds build more sound homes and eat more flora and fauna from new gardens that have emerged. The grass became greener on the other side of March. I was reminded that food grows on trees, and we have the capability to grow our own food. Especially as the price of food rises, fear of food scarcity burdens us, and decreasing the threat of food insecurity becomes paramount.
I lost spun out a few times, 2020, but it’s not your fault. I forgive you. I must say that being in nature with nothing helped center me through a lot.
2020, you centered the deadliest of savages.
I am grateful for my roots, the deeper they become. I am grateful for what I have learned from my ancestors that keeps me alive today.
2020, for me, was the year of celebrating the core of what the U.S. constitution calls my merciless savagery. I got to learn about my native ancestries in community with peoples of various backgrounds on Chumash land, learning of our various relationships to the natural world in our backyard. On that land, I learned under the first tree that Thích Nhất Hạnh taught under in the 1970’s. I connected with my Black and Native grandmother, the one I’m named after, through prayer for the very first time. 2020, you made me surrender. (You know, hot girl shit.)
I had the privilege to be able to live on stewarded land when I need to leave the city in 2020. Thank you. I could not have gone through 4th of July in the city with my light and sound hypersensitivity, as people popped off firework after firework, many more than we had every experienced, in residential areas. Some say the cops left out boxes of fireworks and bricks during the Long Beach George Floyd Rebellion to work up violent protestors angle, distracting local organizers from getting work done. (Here’s a song about what happened right at the end of my block by Anderson .Paak).
All that is to say, I got to live in the mountains of Chumash land (Ojai, California) a few times for a week at a time while attending a fellowship with colleagues who are nothing short of family to me now. The Ojai Foundation FIRE Fellowship was my only in-person networking opportunity I planned for that did not get cancelled after March.
We tended to fire, and discussed, however distant, the transformation that it brings. In my time there, I became deeply settled in the idea that land that routinely burns itself cannot be made civilized. The idea of civilization is, and always will be, rooted in white supremacist capitalism. 2020, you made that damn clear. (As a Californian, I do believe I am now comprised of 30% ash. Everything burned, almost everyday.)
In 2020, land back means fight back. Some lands were returned. There’s plenty more to go.
Thanks to you, 2020, the mundane and everyday have become more magical.
Fighting to survive sucks. Survival mode really fucking sucks. But, there is so much beauty in the everyday. I cannot deny that.
I fell in love with new ways of being in love. Creative ways of being together opened the possibility of worlds to come.
Learning about autonomy, especially as a polyamorous person, in combination with the pandemic, made time with loved ones incredibly precious.
It’s the little things, like sucking on the bloody teeth of pomegranates and peeling locally grown oranges, that kept me going.
I even made nearly 200 meals from scratch, 2020. I’ve cooked before, but this time around, I was making stuff I knew I could buy from across the street, and enjoying the labor. I spent two hours on 16 pieces of falafel and gained a new appreciation for the art. I didn’t know how beautiful leaning into the practice of slow food could be.
2020, you helped me see how fake my surroundings are.
Every time I returned to LA county from the country, it looked completely different.
2020, let me tell you this. On the radio, a commercial sounded off:
“… The people who work at McDonald’s don’t just work here, they live here! …”
I saw a half-burnt down McDonalds in LA, its big yellow-n-red M facade melted into its wire-y infrastructure, appearing tarred and exposed. In those moments, I remembered the plot of Sorry to Bother You and questioned whether or not the people at large are finally fed up with corporate world domination.
Society, for the most part, is an idea. It’s supported by very few key stakeholders who make too much fucking money. In 2020, I lost interest in articulating this eloquently. It’s been done enough.
I will say, 2020, that the cities are based on the movement and livelihood of commerce, not the wellness of human beings. 2020, you taught us that natural world doesn’t give two shits about our wellness, or any of the conveniences we try to forge for our entitled and hyper-consumptive citizens. Mother Earth fought back hard this year. I fuck with it.
Even before the lockdowns, I kept getting this feeling like city was walking through me, never I walking through it. I mean, I was born and raised here. It’s been too much. It’s the reason why you’ll rarely catch me on foot. You know, I go out to skate every now and then, not everyday like back in the day.
The pedestrian ways that create access to restaurants, big brand stores, and other attractions are empty now. Months ago, they were being raided to filth. A lot of people had something to say about that, more so than the matters at hand, and by the time the election came around, a lot people lost track of the momentum.
Though, from June to September, some people started going in even harder, organizing to get water, food, and KN95’s to houseless folk everyday, especially during the heatwaves and fire season.
Instagram became less about pictures of what folks were eating (#pornfood became banned on Instagram in 2020), and more about where to find the shared community fridges.
1,000 houseless folks died among 93,000 vacant homes in LA. I can only hope that this is waking the people the fuck up.
My artist friends organized to paint the boards surrounding the perimeters of protected businesses, bright with messages of progression and demands for justice. These days, when I’m skating, I’m surrounded by radical art, not so much people, and I feel as though I am witnessing what the city could be.
Even though people are becoming increasingly more plugged in, 2020, I think a lot are ready to start over.
2020, you gave me more time to turn hobbies into career moves.
I had been taking a break from many academic contexts 2018–2019. I did not stop writing, but I very purposely found myself exploring the talents I had left by the wayside while moving into the field of psychology as a professional, including improving my skateboarding by surrounding myself with talented skaters until the lockdowns. Though my career in the sciences started in 2016, I had become very disillusioned. You gave me a reason to go back into the sciences a more well-rounded person, ready to talk and do about injustice.
You got me to launch a business. Thank you for helping me see my worth, and focus on the value I bring.
You also gave me the opportunity to work with youth. Nothing in the world gives me as much hope as this.
2020, you helped me relearn what it means to be human.
How does it feel for you, having pushed me to the edge of my existence? I, a qualified professional trained to teach breath work, Googled “how to breathe?” in a panic.
I love you for that experience, too.
***
2020, you made Los Angeles dream chasers reconsider everything.
We needed that.
We need to be kinder to each other.
We are all we have.
***
Human to human, though — that is if you’re not some sort of AI robot reading this article, since that is not out of the question anymore — we needed to do a better job of taking care of each other. If it wasn’t for mutual aid, I would not have made it through two major injuries this year. If it wasn’t for human kindness; grocery drop-offs, donations, and deep listening ears, 2020 would have been very difficult to survive. There are people who are fighting everyday to be alive. Tend to this. Get involved. Humanity needs it.
A Love Letter To The Year of Perfect Vision was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
My Dearest 2020,
Your timing was impeccable and I’m eternally indebted to you for it.
December 31, 2020
My Love Letter To 2020
Dear 2020,
You were supposed to be different from the rest of them. That’s what was so dangerous about you. You brought a false hope that once you came around everything was going to be better. You brought the illusion of a fresh start that led to disappointment within three months of getting to know who you really were. What made it even harder was that I wasn’t expecting all the baggage that you brought. I thought I could handle it until I started to see the different strains and variations that came with it. I wish you had taken care of those issues before you brought them into my life. I thought I could ignore them until they started spilling out into areas of my life where they had no business being. You took away my safe spaces and replaced them with daily rising cases.
To think, I was sold on the dreams that others had about you and what you were going to do for us; the way my friends and exes talked about you showed me so much promise. You were supposed to be the thing that made me get my shit together, and in a way, you did — just not in the way I expected. I learned so much because of you. You showed me things about my friends, employers, exes, children and myself that no one has ever been able to show me. I never knew how much of an impact you could make on my life and those closest to me. I should hate you so much right now because you forced me to change, you forced me to adapt. But after saying it out loud, it doesn’t sound so bad after all, does it?
No one saw the tears I had to hide in between car rides to work or while doing chores just to stay strong for the kids and the ones closest to me. My most significant breakdowns were the ones in the shower where the water would hide the tears running down my face, and the sound of the water would muffle the sound of the sobs that I would make.
The executives I spent most of the year pitching to, didn’t understand that every time I told my story, it was like reopening a wound that hadn’t fully healed. I told myself that my shoulders weren’t big enough to carry this weight. But if not me, then who?
My kids needed an example, and I realized that I couldn’t wait for someone to be that example. I had to lead by example, and I couldn’t allow you to continue to affect me like this. When you knocked me off my game, everything that I thought I once knew I began to question. As a result, I was forced to learn about problems I didn’t think I had and was forced to take care of them.
At times it was unclear who was getting more or taking more. I felt you were being selfish but wasn’t sure if I was ungrateful. Everyone told me that they were losing their jobs and houses, but it didn’t seem fair compared to me losing myself. I thought I could just suck it up for a little bit longer. I told myself, “The year is almost over, and once it is, I can rest, reset and start fresh, but that was the thinking that got me into this mess in the first place. I put you up on a pedestal. I remembered starting the year by telling people that we were going to see things differently this year because of our vision and the year being matched (20/20).
That was my first problem; setting up expectations where I didn’t have any control. You were the year of uncertainty, where the only thing certain was the lack of control that we had. You took so many choices away from me and forced me to make choices that I didn’t want to make. I didn’t know pivoting would be an essential skill, and although I haven’t mastered it, I’m getting better thanks to all the practice I’ve had from the things you’ve thrown at me this year.
What I didn’t think I was ready for, you forced me to prepare for, and I resent you for that because I’d rather do things at my own pace, and your antics have disrupted it. It’s the self-doubt that brought on the anxiety that made me feel like I wasn’t enough, but after 12/31 11:59 pm, I don’t ever want to hear your name again. I’m taking what I’ve learned and gained and leaving you with your variations and your strains. I’m moving on to the long term, where I am focused on planting seeds, watering them, nurturing them and watching them grow. If not for me to reap a harvest, then for my kids and my community.
XOXO,
Los
My Love Letter To 2020 was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
What This Year Taught Me: Triune Lessons of 2020
What This Year Taught Me: Triune Lessons of 2020
Photo by Desola Lanre-Ologun on Unsplash2020 has been a major bitch. This year of scorn began with me wallowing in pity. I sat at home with my dad on New Years. We drank sparkling apple juice. That should have been the first sign that this year would be some bullshit. In January of this year, I would spend much of my time reading outside in Florida’s chilly but humid airs, not knowing that my ability to finish a book would be stunted by a global pandemic and looming unemployment.
Neither did I suspect that white folks would discover that racism is, in fact, real after witnessing and being complicit in the murders of Tony McDade, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and many other Black folks. The Twittersphere erupted with think pieces, absolves, RIP’s, conveniently well-taken “protest selfies,” everything but discussion of convictions and reparations.
Even with this arid, crusty life we’ve lived this past year, there have been a triune of lessons which in sum taught me that we all must want ourselves and desire the best for ourselves. While that is easy for me to say right now, I personally still don’t know how to stand by this; however, I can share the three lessons that led me to this conclusion.
1. Being alone doesn’t mean not creating community.COVID-19 put a halt on all our social plans which relegated most of us to the digital engagement. Yes, upping our screen time was the last thing we needed, but we still required community. I was happy to see how creatives found and created spaces of love and care.
I’ve seen many people watch their dreams come true, in part due to work that can be done outside of in person interactions. This is all due to the power of building community on (and off) the internet. Via Twitter, I’ve found a ton of journalists, musicians, poets, and music writers that are so kind and supportive. My hope in 2021 is that we find ways to remain this interconnected and encouraging amid whatever we face.
Just because you are physically alone, does not mean you can’t find your people.
Photo by NASA on Unsplash2. The world won’t always care, but you gotta care.As alluded to earlier, Black people know all to well how it feels for non-Black people to arrive consistently late to the party regarding the acknowledgment of anti-Black racism. Personally, I’ve learned that when everything loses its “trendy nature,” those who are dedicated to causes will remain. People who work to see long term change will feel the effects of it. And, the folks I mentioned previously (who are “your people”) will be by your side caring, perhaps in different ways, but still caring.
When the world stops caring about whatever you are dedicated to, you can’t fold on your values and what you love. You cannot become a slave to the whims of what the world says you should value and care about. Determine what you care for and stand by it.
I also realize that that this caring can change and often times it changes because we go through life learning new things concerning who we are. The fluid nature of what we care about from year to year, day to day is perfectly fine. Stand by that fact of life too.
Photo by Colton Duke on Unsplash3. The “best” can be unattainable due to things out of our control.I know this struggle all too well. I recently had to take a job that I’m not the most enthused about. It’s going to change my living location (that shit far as hell y’all), but also my financial situation for the better. There is nothing more in the world I would want to be than a full-time writer. Right now though? I simply cannot. I don’t have the money and capitalism stops for no one *cackles.*
This is when I must suggest to myself and others that we must sit with this discomfort. Honestly, I don’t know if I have more advice than this. Navigating our own understandings of what is “best” for us doesn’t always feel good. I can say now that there are two types of “best:” what is best in the moment and what we expect to be the “best.” Everything else is based on what we are comfortable with or what we desire the most ideal situation. Sometimes those two are the same thing. Sometimes the “best” options lie on opposite ends of the spectrum.
All we can do from that point when the “best” lies on opposing ends is face the fact that whatever choice we make is the one for the moment.
Photo by Javier Allegue Barros on UnsplashI haven’t said anything that is rocket science here, or majorly deep. On the whole, I want us all to understand that wanting ourselves, whether alone or with chosen community is the best thing we could ever invest in going into the new year. Wanting oneself, to me, means finding ways to bond with others despite the conditions of the year, becoming someone who wants what they desire (and need), and remaining cognizant of the ever changing nature of desire + what the best really means to you. All of these things allowed me to be in admiration of who I am and who I am transforming into as time passes.
Sending you all love (except 2020, fuck 2020).
What This Year Taught Me: Triune Lessons of 2020 was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
December 30, 2020
December 29, 2020
December 28, 2020
Call for submissions — write a love letter to 2020
I know what you’re thinking; fuck 2020. And that’s fair. I don’t need to reiterate some of the life changing events we’ve experienced over the past year.
But bear with me.
I know it’s about to be the new year and we’re all ready to put 2020 in the rearview and make our resolutions. You have goals and you’re anxious to declare them. But before greatness come gratitude and I think we all need to find something beautiful about the struggle of this year.
So I’m asking you to write a love letter to 2020. Tell it why you’re happy it put you through what it put you through. Find the lessons or moments of self- discovery that stood out most. Everyone’s experience is different so my only expectation is honesty and magical prose!
Same rules as always:If you’re already a writer for CRY, go ahead and submit.If you’re not a writer for CRY but would like to submit to this request, let us know and we’ll add you ASAP.Be as creative as you want in your submissions. As long as you stick to the topic, we’ll consider it.Just because you submit doesn’t mean we’ll post. If you haven’t heard back from us in three days, consider that a pass.Please reach out if you have any questions at all. If you are new to Medium, here’s how you submit a draft to a publication.Looking forward to your submissions!
Call for submissions — write a love letter to 2020 was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
