Dear Reader, Hello.
Did you think I would forget about you? I didn’t. I just had such a busy week that I didn’t get to this until now. Since the last time I wrote to you, I’ve organized an online writing workshop and hosted an online reading, read 7 poetry books, gone to an online book release, gone to an online city council meeting that lasted 9!!! hours!!!, reorganized my office, typed captions for YouTube videos, and more. How did you spend your week?
There are a couple of things from my week that I want to focus on. First, I went to an online book release for Aimee Nezhukumatathil’s new book World of Wonders: IN PRAISE OF FIREFLIES, WHALE SHARKS, AND OTHER ASTONISHMENTS, and for the event she just hung out with Ross Gay, who is one of her best friends, and they talked about wonder. This is the video if you want to check it out (it’s about an hour).
One of the things that really struck me was something that Ross Gay said:
Wonder is a kind of profound vulnerability. Like you’re always in a state of being ready to be moved.
He talked about how wonder is really admitting that you don’t know something, and wanting to know more about it, and admitting that you don’t know something is very vulnerable. Aimee Nezhukumatathil agreed. They talked about cultivating wonder and vulnerability as a practice, making sure to end their days with wonder, how to teach wonder. I thought, I need to schedule time into every day to wonder. So, I did.
Since then, I’ve watched hummingbirds hovering at tall evening primrose blossoms (yellow flowers), monarch butterflies sunning themselves clusters of milkweed flowers, and praying mantises on summer savory and tarragon and hiding under the leaves of collard greens. I’ve been trying to pay attention to what’s buzzing around. I’m trying to be moved. I’m trying to stay vulnerable. I’ve done a lot of balancing postures during my yoga this week, as well as postures with my legs up the wall. Trying to be a little unsteady. Trying to change my perspective.
I think it’s easy to want to close up during this pandemic, but really creating a practice of wonder might do something important. Here are a few things I wondered about:
I wonder why the wren is in the abandoned nest in the ash tree—what does a wren want with an old nest?
I wonder what real vulnerability feels like—how much can I admit that I don’t know?
I wonder how wonder and vulnerability are related to whiteness? How often are we told we need to know/be experts/not admit when we don’t know? How often are we told to be invulnerable? How can practicing wonder and vulnerability work against whiteness?
I wonder when I will write poetry again (it’s been about a year!)? What switch needs to flip so I let go of revising old poems and start creating new ones again?
I wonder about how children will socially distance with an active shooter? I wonder when and where we will find out?
I wonder how to convince people that the police don’t keep them safe?
Some of those wonders were related to another event that I attended this week—a City Council meeting where they were voting about whether or not to add two School Resource Officers (SRO’s) to the Fayetteville Public School District. A recap of the meeting is available here if you are curious. This meeting was heavily attended by both police, who were asking for more SRO’s, and people who were trying to stop the SRO’s from being placed in schools (this is one way of defunding the police). There was a lot of discussion about school shootings, as well as a lot of fear, and a lot of really racist comments.
Before that meeting I was terrified of saying the wrong thing and being embarrassed, and then I just thought about how I could wonder better. Wonder was on my mind. So, I didn’t come prepared with anything to say. My vulnerability—the unpreparedness and unknowing—led to wondering what other people would say. My wondering led to listening. I listened to the stories that Black community members told about their personal experiences with SRO’s (mostly all very bad). I took notes on they said.
As I listened to many other white people speak, in many cases speaking over the Black community members and saying they were wrong to feel unsafe around SRO’s, I just kept saying to myself, why aren’t they listening to what the Black folks are saying? So, when it was my turn to speak, I asked them to listen. I thanked the Black community members for taking the risk of speaking up against SRO’s (it’s important to note that this is a risk for them, as they can be targeted for community retaliation), and I listed one by one all the stories that I had taken notes on, recapping what was said and asking the City Council to listen to those experiences.
In the end, the measure didn’t pass, and no new SRO’s were funded for Fayetteville schools (yay!). But, that’s not really the point.
The point is that I don’t think that I enacted any kind of white supremacy in that meeting, thought I felt it from many other white folks who spoke. I went in with vulnerability and wonder and I let myself not know. It was really scary and I had a lot of nerves as my time was getting closer, but I didn’t try to control the situation and I let those nerves just kind of happen. I accepted them. I embraced the fact that I would never know what personal danger related to SRO’s was like. I embraced the fact that I didn’t know what to say. I forced myself to listen instead, and I encouraged others to listen to Black voices, instead of bringing my own agenda.
I’m certainly not trying to say that I’m perfect here. I’ve spoken over Black people plenty of times in my life. I’ve made a million mistakes. But, I’m also learning that vulnerability and wonder can change the way I approach a situation, and can change what I say. Can rid me of the impulse toward expertise. And isn’t that a beautiful thing?
Have you ever tried to practice wonder or vulnerability? How? What were your methods? Leave me a comment below and give me suggestions!
Prompt/action (both at once!): Pay attention throughout the day to moments of wonder and vulnerability. How often do you wonder? What happens when you do? How is vulnerability related? Schedule time in your day to practice these more. Maybe it’s a moment at a park looking at the clouds, or a moment on the walk on your way to work. Write WONDER in your planner and plan for it. Find the vulnerability in the wonder. If you feel like you are bad at it, keep practicing!
Thanks for reading and thinking and making time for vulnerability and wonder with me! I’m so glad to share this with all of you. I’ll have more thoughts for you again next week.
Until then,
Gwen