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Longest Night, Strongest Light

Winter solstice winter solstice winter solstice. To me, it’s the most magical day of the year—the longest night pierced by the greatest light. For to find ourselves in such looming darkness we require extraordinary light. Miracles, in fact. Early Christians decided to celebrate Jesus’ birthday this time of year not just to override the pagans (boo) but because now—when the sun shines so seldom, when the earth is so barren—we must be most pregnant with faith. It is the same faith that kept the oil burning for eight days for the Jewish holiday of Chanukah. And it is the same faith that reminds us love can subsume any black hole. Here at this turning point of the year and of our country, on this hardest and holiest of days, we are in the most dire need of faith. We must listen, we must light, and we must love.

Sea Goat, Still

Mercury retrograde begins today, just in time for the challah-daze and the electoral college to cast their vote. Yes, yes: back up your electronics, buy travel insurance, release all expectations of business as usual. But because this retrograde is taking place in old-soul, mastermind Capricorn, accept that this will be a quiet, contemplative time–a moment of sobriety metaphorically if not literally. The retrograde doesn’t end until January 8, so I’d advise shying away from serious decadence, especially for New Years Eve. Instead, use this time as an opportunity to reflect on the hardest year in recent memory—the lessons learned, the paths to build. Embrace the energy of the sea goat rather than the mountain goat, which is to say: pursue spiritual wisdom rather than earthly gains. As always, I send love and light to all.

Who’s Reading Who: Identifying Race in Lit

I recently reread a Young Adult series I loved when growing up. A more lighthearted offering from The Giver author Lois Lowry, these books focus on Anastasia Krupnik, a 1980s Newton, Massachusetts, tween whose mother is a painter, father is a poetry professor, and toddler brother already reads and speaks in carefully parsed sentences. Anastasia is kind, idiosyncratic, and funny, and she wrangles with moral dilemmas and the indignities of adolescence with a nerdy charisma that, at the ripe old age of (number redacted), I still find irresistible. Anastasia is also white.

I mention this fact because the only time race is mentioned in this book series is when someone is not white. The example that most stands out is the character of Henry in Anastasia’s Chosen Career, the seventh book in this series. Henry is a tall female student in the modeling course Anastasia takes while casting about for a career (age thirteen being high time to figure out what you’re doing with the rest of your life, apparently). A live-wire from the Boston neighborhood of Dorchester, Henry often says what Anastasia only thinks. She is also black. We know this because it’s specifically stated in her first appearance in the book, though she does not often speak in what could be coded as a black vernacular. Because Anastasia may not have many friends of color, Henry’s race may indeed be noteworthy to her although the two girls find everything about each other’s lives fascinating and foreign. But the minute that Henry is labeled black while other, presumably nonblack characters are not assigned a race, we suddenly realize Anastasia’s world is, by default, white. In that one swoop, the book’s Eden is destroyed, and readers are denied a freedom of imagination as well as a freedom of identification. Continue Reading →

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy