It’s been 133 days since New York went on pause, and this space has been dormant for most of that time. At first, I thought I would have loads of time to wake this blog back up: I’ll get to take shots outside, undisturbed! Then: Scratch that! I’ll find new ways to get creative in our apartment! Then: I HAVE NO TIME FOR THAT I HAVE TO MAKE TWO THOUSAND MASKS THEN I HAVE NO TIME FOR A WORLD THAT IS WAKING UP TO A VIRUS THAT HAS BEEN HERE SINCE FOREVER
Although my plans didn’t pan out, most of this has actually been documented in wee blurbs on the ‘gram, evolving into full-on micro blogging—something I’d rather do here. But people have been asking to listen and learn there, and social media is an undeniable tool for affecting the world. These past few weeks, I’ve eagerly—for lack of a better word— read the multiple paragraphs posted by so many of my friends, old and new. Sewists that already had me enamored of their clothing had me floored by their words relating their experiences and actions, much of which was very familiar, but kept private up until now.
I’ve been thinking about why we keep the things that hurt us private. Rob said to a friend of ours, who was surprised by my personal experiences with racism: she doesn’t tell you, because she doesn’t want to be defined by them.
He’s right. After sharing one story, I wanted to delete everything in my feed. I laid awake that night thinking it’s self centered, it’s old, there are so many present day stories that I should tell but how am I supposed to share those when that 25 year old story makes me want to crawl under a rock from having put it out there. Rob made me promise to sleep on it, and when I couldn’t sleep, this post appeared in my feed. And I was glad my words were up so that my new friend could put her words up. And I’m glad for every person out there sharing their words. And I know it’s an awful, naked thing to do.
When you hear the experiences of a friend, a family member, or even a technicolor blogger, who can offer you a glimpse into the world through a different lens, I believe it can change your world view. Not THE worldview, a worldview. And if enough of us share that lens, well, it’s chipping away at the virus of racism.
While my own experiences with racism are deeply felt, while color plays a HUGE and every day part in my line of work, I feel that my problems are insignificant in comparison. But, they’re also important. Systemic racism is a huge part of the problem. Representation is a huge part of the problem. Sitting at a high end bar and being called a black b*tch is a huge part of the problem. Allowing it to go untold contributes to the virus, and to the unimaginable.
So hi. I’ll be coming back to this space more often. I may share some of the stories I’ve posted on Instagram these past weeks. I may share recent stories. We may have different opinions, I hope you’re open to hearing them, because I can’t navigate the world without sharing them anymore.
I know I can’t get through these days without joy, it’s why I taught myself to sew, so I will definitely, and defiantly, share the technicolor armor.
Wishing you the work that needs to be done, however and wherever you can do it, and the joy that you need to keep it up.