I saw my friend’s name on the byline. And my heart trembled. I couldn’t bring myself to read her essay in the moment. I knew she would bear down upon her thoughts and impress into service the language of the Shoah, the words of destruction transcended by Jewish faith in humanity. Transcended by Jewish faith in humanity. I would be spellbound as my friend is masterful with haunting images.
I was not in a place to be seduced by her vivid, continuous dreams of prose. See generally On Becoming A Novelist, pages 5-6, by John Gardner. https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/32532 Maybe later this weekend when I can savor each insight and burst of intuition, poignant feelings from a fine artist of the pen, the instrument of the divine through my friend.
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What is the duty to write?
Every generation must live up to the moral question of one’s time. College students at Harvard in 1861 knew the great question of their time. They ran not from war over slavery and the Union. And they left the safe classrooms of Harvard Square for the bullets of Antietam, the killing fields of the Wilderness, the wounds of Chancellorsville, the fall of Richmond. Young men barely past teenaged days devoted themselves to the purpose and meaning of the hour. One example out of thousands — Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. heard the call of his generation, left the Harvard commencement for the battlefield, joined the Union Army, and was wounded three times in service of duty. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oliver_Wendell_Holmes_Jr.
Duty presupposes a calling, something larger than one’s self.
We no longer face the abolition of slavery but the specter of prejudice and bigotry against our fellow man. Could it be the case that the loss of modern purpose and meaning has summoned forth in our lives ancient hatreds, hatreds older than colonial America, that must be settled once and for all?
I asked a co-writer why do readers like my writing? I’m plagued with so many questions about existence, my growing alienation from dogma and slogan words. The co-writer replied my writing was fresh. Hmmn. I think readers are hungry for life beyond dogma and bullies and small minds.
That is what I think.
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All I want to do is write and hope my Dad doesn’t suffer into his Long Good Bye. I want others to know Blackness is more than Oppression. I hope evil does not scar the precious heart of my friend, that we change the way of the world person by person.
I want to feel congruent with the world, that things make sense. I am not the only one who feels this way.
When we care about the group and nothing else, we lose touch with the universal within us. It is a writer’s duty in good and bad times to protect the flame of truth from the headwinds of dogma and slogan words. I have never met a slogan word that defines all of me. If I am still discovering layers and layers of me at the age of 62, how could slogan words like oppression or marginalization define all of who I am? How could a professor Ibram X. Kendi or Kimberle Crenshaw know all of me?
It is impossible.
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As I type, I think of my writer friend and what brings us together across race and distance. I feel like discovering Palm Springs for the first time when we talk. I love seeing my thoughts in her words. Oh, would the entire world see the person before the race or ethnic group!
That is my dream. That is how I live my life.
This weekend, I read the truth of my friend.
Me: I’m going to read your …essay. I was thinking…what is the duty of writers during these times? Are writers called to protect truth against the headwinds of dogma and ideology?
My Friend: Hello dear Wink! I think our duty right now is to be describing reality accurately. At least that’s the task I set for myself. Which is probably the same thing you’re saying. Thank you for reading my essay. I recommend reading the whole collection — I think you’ll find a lot of good stuff in it.
Me: Sooo good to hear from you. And you’re quite right (as always/smile). I will read the whole collection.
Keep Smiling, Keep Living Well, Keep Dear Friends Close to One’s Heart
You write truth.
You definitely write fresh and new.
You write about us ALL.
You write about us as individuals.
You write what is in each of our hearts as we live each day wanting to just love others for WHO they are in character, not to be defined by outward appearances.
Thank you for your diligence and perseverance in writing, writing writing!!!
I was about to tell you why people like what you write, why it resonates with many.
And then I read Kayleen's comment, and she says it perfectly.
I will add, however, that you are highly skilled in conveying the English langauge. I mean - a book a day! Of course you've learned how to express yourself eloquently. Now that I know how you sound, I know that you speak well, too.
I've always written better than I speak, but over the years (59), I've been closing the gap.
Thanks for the inspiration, Wink.