I spent last week driving from San Diego, CA to Houston, TX. Apple Maps tells me the trip takes 21 hours and 4 minutes though I spent closer to 30 hours driving between pit stops and time spent to “take it in.”
I paid $11 to fill up my tank (it was 1/2 full) and that feels noteworthy (maybe because I live on the West Coast where gas costs between $3-4 a gallon).
I stopped in smaller towns along the way, most notably Bisbee, AZ and El Paso, TX. These stops were refreshing. They were a nice reminder that life does, in fact, still exist outside of my physical and technological bubble. It was nice to have conversations with humans again, to exchange smiles and nods with humans that I’m sure I disagree with on a lot of things, and to have sprawling (masked) conversations with those I do agree with but whose upbringing offers new and interesting insights…like the Australian homesteader I met in Bisbee or the middle-aged Mexican woman I talked to while ordering coffee in El Paso.
There were moments where I was the only car - and presumably the only person - for miles.
This all gave me time and space to think. For the first time in months, I felt expansive. Everything for the past few months had been about turning inwards. Shrinking and slowing down.
Now I was alone.
Just me and an infinitely expanding expanse where I was left to contemplate the sheer vastness of it all. I meditated on my own insignificance while also deeply aware of the difference I can make. Like the story of the kid throwing starfish back into the ocean.
It is paradoxes like these that make me grateful to be human (amongst many other things, of course).
It felt great to be in open space again. To be in a space that was otherwise empty. To feel empty again. It brought clarity to my thinking. It got me out of the ideological tennis that’s happening on television and social media. It gave me time to focus on the question that’s most important to me at present.
I’m asking myself this question:
What does it mean to be a good citizen?
Part of the answer, for me, involves knowing more (and knowing better) about our history as a Nation. My history classes did a bad job educating me about our history, and I’ve done worse. I’m going to do better.
To start, I’m going to read Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong by James W. Loewen.
I’d like you to join me. Call it a book club (!) if you’d like.
After sharing a James Baldwin quote (shared below) on Facebook, a friend encouraged me to start one (a book club).
Lies… feels like a great place to start and will help me (and us) move towards an answer for the above question.
The reading will “officially” start on Monday, July 6 and involve a weekly discussion thread that I’ll send through email and perhaps a once-monthly virtual coffee meeting held over Zoom. I will send out a reading schedule - so we can all stay on roughly the same trajectory should you choose - next Friday.
The goal is to grow all of this into a media empire where all parts (video, newsletter, blog, podcast) feed one another. Each of these sources will be dedicated to personal and collective improvement as we explore a variety of topics.
For now, it’s about this newsletter and building community.
The book club will help us generate discussion and participation around a common theme. For now, I’m feeling one book a month with a weekly discussion and the once-monthly meeting. I’m open to suggestions on books but I’m currently interested in:
A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn
How Emotions Are Made by Lisa Barrett
Enlightenment Now by Steven Pinker
We can figure that out as we go. Thank you for being here.
Here’s what was interesting to me this week.
Currently Reading
Antifragile: Things that Gain from Disorder by Nassim Nicholas Taleb
Things that are antifragile get better when they are exposed to stress. From the text:
“Some things benefit from shocks; they thrive and grow when exposed to volatility, randomness, disorder, and stressors and love adventure, risk, and uncertainty. Yet, in spite of the ubiquity of the phenomenon, there is no word for the exact opposite of fragile. Let us call it antifragile. Antifragility is beyond resilience or robustness. The resilient resists shocks and stays the same; the antifragile gets better.”
Now feels like a good time to read this book.
Potent Quotables
These are some of my favorite quotes from this week. They come from podcasts, books, articles, documentaries, or other resources.
Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.
— James Baldwin
However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.
- Stanley Kubrick
Weekly Shares
These are resources that I either created, consumed, or discovered that I believe you’ll find value in. I’d also like to come up with a better name for this section. If you have any ideas, send them along.
Malcolm X (Netflix) - We often see Dr. Martin Luther King quoted during times of civil unrest but rarely is Malcolm given the same treatment. Perhaps that’s because we largely misunderstand (or narrowly understand) him and portray him as the militant foil to MLK’s politics of nonviolence. It’s a disservice to both of them. I’ve been educating myself about Malcolm’s beliefs, politics, and rhetoric, all of which were in flux following his departure from the NOI and before his assassination. Many, including his children, remember him as a compassionate and loving man. His legacy is complex and complicated. People have dedicated their entire lives to unpacking it. This film is a great place to start.
I Am Not Your Negro (Amazon Prime) - This is a film adaptation of James Baldwin’s unfinished work, Remember this House. Baldwin set out to write a book about three of his closest friends, Medgar Evers, Martin Luther King, and Malcolm X, each of whom had been assassinated for their civil rights activism. He died before he could complete it. This film was adapted from the notes, letters, and excerpts that were collected. It is set against a modern backdrop of civil unrest in cities like Ferguson. It’s an important reminder that we’ve come a long way but there is still work to be done.
That’s it for this week.
I’ll see you next Friday.