Saturday, July 07, 2018

LWB - at the art supply store

I went to Michael's today.
I didn't need to go to Michael's.
I already have too many art supplies.
Actually, let me rephrase that - I already have a lot of art supplies.
I'm not sure I could ever have too many.
As long as I use them, right?

Anyway, I went to Michael's because a dear friend of mine,
who will remain unnamed - (cough - Heather! - cough) -
told me that there was a sale on washi tape.
Three rolls for $1.
What???

So I was standing at the washi tape display, rifling through roll after roll,
consciously and intentionally resisting the urge to dump it all into my basket,
when a young white woman approached and began to dig through the bins as well.

Let me stop here and say that I've been struggling with anger this past week.
Actually for the past few weeks, but it has been most intense this past week.
Anger about injustice. Anger about racism. Anger about mass incarceration.
Anger about the frequency with which the police are being called
because black people are being people.
Sleeping in her college dorm common area.
Selling water near a sporting event.
Barbecuing in a public park.
Sitting at the pool in her own neighborhood.
Canvassing for political office in her area.
Carrying out a home inspection.
Checking out of an Air BnB with their suitcases.
It's ridiculous.
The crime code should be LWB - Living while black.

So, yea, I've been angry. Very angry.
And also sensitive about being black in this country at a time when
walking through my own neighborhood, pulling something out of my trunk,
putting my cell phone into my purse, and other normal activities
could be misunderstood and considered threatening.
And prompt someone to call the police on me - or my children.

So all of that was floating in my head when that young woman approached.
I took a deep breath and decided to break the ice.
I said, "Great deal, right?"
She smiled and said, "Yes, this is a great deal."
Then she gushed about how much she loves washi tape
and how she uses it all the time and
then she said she should probably just walk away because she already had so much.
I said, "Can you have too much?" She laughed.
We wished each other a good day - and then she left.
So simple. So pleasant.
Thanks be to God.

I wandered around the store a little bit more.
Then I went to the register.
The cashier was a beautiful brown skinned woman.
Was she Indian or Latinx or ...?
It doesn't matter who she was or where she was born or what her first language is
or what she believes or who she loves.
What matters is that she was outrageously kind and pleasant in her interaction with me.
She smiled and made small talk.
She looked me in the eye when she spoke to me.
When the exchange was complete, she wished me a wonderful afternoon.
So simple. So pleasant.
Thanks be to God.

I really needed both of those exchanges today.
I needed to remember that most people are pleasant and kind.
Most people don't hate other people.
Most people really want "liberty and justice for all."
It is the minority, truly the minority of people, who want to dominate others,
who want to deport everyone who wasn't born here,
who want to use violence to intimidate anyone who doesn't agree with them.
Truly a minority.


Glennon Doyle has planted a couple of phrases in my mind and heart lately.

Earlier today, I saw an Instagram post of hers in which she said she and her wife are out "waging joy." I love that. No more staying stuck in fear, despair, or anxiety. It's time for us to "wage joy."I need to get out and wage some joy myself.

She has a sign off that she sometimes uses when she writes: "in hope and fury." Again, I love that. I can live in hope. I can work for hope. I can preach about hope. I can sit with someone who is hurting and pray that hope finds its way into their broken heart. And I can also feel a deep fury at what I see and what I hear around me. And I can also be furious about how helpless and fearful so many people feel these days - myself included.

Someone said that if you're not mad, you're not paying attention.
If you're weeping, if you're broken hearted, if you're disgusted,
then you are paying attention.
If those are the criteria at the moment, then I am definitely paying attention.

Although it could easily be argued that I didn't need any more washi tape today,
I do know that I needed the two exchanges I had there.
I needed to be reminded of the gift of kindness and conversation.
I needed to be reminded - look up, see and be seen.
Make conversation.
Smile and be smiled at.
I needed to be reminded that I can be furious and also relentlessly hopeful.

There is so much work to do.
Perhaps some of that work can be done while waging joy over washi tape.
I'm about to test that theory.

5 comments:

Mary Anne Radmacher said...

It seems to be that the kindest possible gathering imaginable would be formed around those who adore and use vast amounts of washi tape. Unless, of course, it came down to the last three being available at that amazing price point. Even artists have their breaking point for civility. I'm glad kind people showed up for some RESToration for your joy AND your rage.

Sally H said...

I have to be honest and say I expected the worst - I kept waiting for the hammer th fall. Shame on me. I breathed a sigh of relief to read “the rest of the story.” My heart aches that you or anybody has to face such hate, discrimination, disrespect, disregard...in a “free” country. Love you Gail.

Kate S said...

Dear Gail, thank you for this, so much. I have been hiding out in my house for the first part of the summer, most of my excuse was the heat. Another has been I don't want to run into anyone who might ask me to explain my life as it stands right now. Just can't do it. Today, I needed to go out to get milk and breakfast, so I packed my three year into his stroller - still too hot even in the 60s to spend an hour walking for a total of six blocks, then stop him from picking up one of everything from the shelves, and I walked to the store where on my good days I walk to nearly every day. It's just a little convenience store, back in the day (the 80s) it would have been a 7-11, but without the video game machines, but I know the people there, the people who have watched my kids grow up, but don't know my stuff. So I don't have to talk, at least I can just mention the weather and it's enough. And the people there are the usual suspects, the older black man who I exchange pleasantries with, the Asian man working the cash register. I don't know their names, they don't know mine, but they know me, maybe simply as a human being, probably though they might think of me as the crazy older white chick with four kids, or maybe they think of me of just that white woman who spends a lot of time in Stewart's. I don't know. I'll never know, but just knowing they are there, and part of my community, made me feel a bit better. Community is where we make it, where we allow it to be, and yes it's scary. Scary as hell to make that leap of extending yourself, it always has been, but it feels so much more know. Walking with you in fury and hope, hope and fury, my friend.

And no, you can never have enough art supplies. Washi tape or any other kind.

GailNHB said...

Thank you, mary anne, Sally, and Kate for your messages.

mary anne, I love your idea of a community and gathering around and over washi tape. There was some great washi tape at camp last November. I wish I knew where those rolls had come from. So much color. So much beauty - and not only with the art supplies and in nature. The people were outrageously beautiful too.

Sally, you don't have to feel bad about thinking the story would end badly. There have been too many stories that have ended badly in the news lately. I'm glad to be able to add a story that ended well - in both exchanges. Gotta love those times. I hope your trip is going wonderfully well. I can't wait to hear stories when you get back. The photos you've posted so far are fantastic.

Kate, community is where we make it, where we notice each other, where we acknowledge each other's dignity and presence. Thanks for sharing your story of community at Stewart's. Thank you for walking with me in hope and fury, even from a distance. And I will enjoy my supply of washi tape, for sure.

Unknown said...

EThanks for your post Gail. I respect your honesty. I am saddened by all the anger and racism in our country. On a personal note, I am also saddened by some of the angry looks I have received of late from a few younger blacks when I have passed by them. I wonder if they just see me as an “old prejudiced white woman”. Oh I hope not.
On a note like you shared, I had a delightful experience at Price’s Chicken Coop last week. A black woman in front of me went in a longer line and I asked her if she wouldn’t like to get in the shorter line in front of me. She said “no you go”. She ended up getting her food just before I did and I told her it was appropriate that she had gotten her food ahead of me and she smiled at me. I was able to open the door for her whereby she very kindly wished me a happy 4th and I wished her the same. Such a simple interaction that I believe filled us both with joy. ❤️ I love the expression wage joy!
Now what is washi tape?