my place
On Monday I had the opportunity to lead a writing workshop with the amazing young women from TWYLS Bronx, Brooklyn, and Harlem at the Center for Fiction in midtown Manhattan. The KidsRead program provided copies of A Wish After Midnight for all the teens, I did my standard book talk, and then we read Sharon Flake’s poem “You Don’t Even Know Me.” After analyzing the poem, I asked the teens to make two lists: how others see you versus how you see yourself. I shared my two lists with them and noted that others often think I “don’t know my place.” I pride myself on being uppity and astonishing those who have low expectations of Black woman. But sometimes I avoid experiences and limit myself because I don’t feel comfortable in a particular place. Last night I was invited to a mixer in lower Manhattan, and I didn’t want to go. I’m not good at mingling, and I don’t generally go out at night, I don’t drink and I don’t do clubs, though I do know you’re expected to dress a certain way. I wanted to stay home and watch NOVA but the invitation came from a dear friend and so I put on some heels (but not a dress), made up a mantra, and chanted it on my way downtown: “This is for Laura. This is for Laura. Think of all the things Laura has done for you.” I got to the rooftop bar and the music was so loud I actually cringed. The place was packed and if Lyn Miller-Lachmann hadn’t been right at the door to greet me with a smile, I seriously would have turned around and gone home. Instead I attached myself to Lyn and she helped me find Laura; we formed a cluster with two other women of color and I managed to act normal (I think) for about half an hour. THEN I went home! And woke up determined to have a day of silence today. I don’t belong in a club or at a bar. This is where I feel most at ease:
But what kind of role model am I if I don’t embrace discomfort and veer out of my lane sometimes? Just before I left for the mixer I got an email with some good news from my agent. I feel like I’m dipping my toe back into the traditional publishing industry, and I’m not entirely comfortable with that. I say I’m all about hybridity but I don’t want to compromise my values. I want to publish with integrity and the easiest way to do that is to produce my books myself. I want to move beyond books, though, so this weekend I’m going to take an orientation class on film production. How can we amplify the voices of young women of color? What skills do I need to develop in order to make myself a better advocate for young Black readers and writers? I don’t have all the answers but I do feel like I’m moving in the right direction. I heard from a colleague today who developed his own television program; he’d like to collaborate and that would be an excellent opportunity to learn and grow. I went to the bank this morning to make a deposit and came home to find another check in the mail; I was paid by direct deposit for one freelance writing gig that didn’t work out, and then got an email asking me to submit an invoice for my other story, which was accepted by the client. Summer is an anxious time for me—too much unstructured time—but I feel strangely balanced right now. The fall is filling up with speaking gigs, I’m making progress on my unfinished novels. I’m ready to try something new and the planets seem to be aligned in my favor! In time I’ll find my place in the universe…
