It’s been a difficult few months for me, seeing so much pain and sorrow in civil rights exhibits and reading more of the same in histories, biographies, and in essays and books. I’ve immersed myself in hard truths about our country, our history, and, in the end, about myself and my white privilege and inherent racism. It’s work I needed to do and work I need to continue doing. As Fannie Lou Hamer stated, Nobody is free until everybody is free.
I realized yesterday, though, that I need to take a break and do something different to balance things out. To balance me out. (And, yes, I realize as a result of all this work I’ve done that being able to “take a break” from learning about and confronting racism is white privilege in action.)
I pulled out my huge book on the photographer Sally Mann (it’s a coffee-table book that must weigh 10 pounds). I read some and looked at her images, and once again, got inspired by her work. I took out Sony camera and the decades-old Minolta lens — such heavy glass that makes such beautiful softness — and went outside to the bare branches and bleak sky of an early spring afternoon in northern Alabama.
I took some quick shots, maybe ten minutes in total, then went back inside. I lost myself in post-processing, not even realizing that the sun had sunk below the hills and evening had come.
I’ve been absorbing so much information the last few months and I am not yet sure how to process it or if anything public will come out of it. I’ve not posted much about it because I haven’t figured out what to say or how. One side effect, I realized this week, is that I hadn’t been creating very much, and that’s where I find my passion on a regular basis. The few hours at Sloss Furnaces became the start of remembering how much joy I get out of doing a photo shoot and then writing and publishing it here.
I’m heading up to Virginia for a women’s writing retreat next weekend and the timing couldn’t be better. I need to get out of my own head and three days spent with 20 other women who write can only be a good thing. It’s time to get back in touch with my writing side and see where that road goes.
My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.
Maya Angelou
Hi, Leslie, I had read about the Tulsa riot this winter, it was shocking to me how many riots were in our history that I didn’t know about before I dove into this area of learning. I’m not passing through Oklahoma any time soon, but I’ll keep your offer handy because I would love to meet up with you someday!
Annie, there are a couple of things you may be interested in near me as you continue your journey of discovery of civil rights and white privilege. There was a terrible riot in Tulsa, OK–a massacre, really–at a location known as Black Wall Street. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greenwood,_Tulsa It should be better known everywhere. And I live near Tahlequah, the capitol of the Cherokee Nation and the end of the Trail of Tears. There are many things to see and do w.r.t. that history here….not just with the Cherokee tribe, but others, too. And the Cherokees owned slaves, too, which is a whole other thing. I have a pretty spring-fed creek you could boondock next to or hookups near the house. And there are some pretty parks around I can recommend, too.
I like your photography, thoughts and independence.
Thank you, Annette. I am so looking forward to the weekend and being among a tribe of women writers. See you Thursday!
Annie, I’m so glad you are coming to the retreat. I hope it provides the balance you need. Dismantling racism and oppression is vital work but without balance, it cannot be sustained for the long haul. You will be among friends.
Such beautiful posts from everyone here. Thanks for sharing your emotions. I know the retreat will be a time of healing! Enjoy.
Donna, that quotation is simply stunning, it echoes what I’ve been feeling so much these past several weeks. Maybe I put this post out to find an echo, a like soul. And you answered with this, so thank you very much, my fellow explorer of the heart.
Your words are a balm Ingrid, they are right enough to convey the crazy, beautiful life of trying to be honest and true to oneself while learning how things work, both internally and in the external world. Thank you for your writing, it gave me comfort when I read it.
Bonjour, Christian, and thank you for reading my writing, I appreciate your comment very much. The US is very much contrasting ideas. The South was new to me, so it has been a learning time. PS – I was in Canada (NB, NS, and QC) May-July 2018 🙂 I love Canada, people were very friendly and kind, especially in Quebec because I don’t speak French except 3-4 words.
Bonjour Annie
Je lis toutes vos publications avec intérêt et apprécie ces belles images que vous nous offrez.
I read all your publications with interest and appreciate these beautiful pictures that you offer us
Vos réflections d’aujourd’hui montrent votre humanisme. Nos pays ont besoin de plus de gens comme vous.
Your reflections today show your humanism. Our countries need more people like you.
PS j’ai voyagé 3 mois dans votre pays avec mon Alto. (Mars Avril May 2018)
Quel pays de contraste vous avez!
PS I traveled 3 months in your country with my Alto. (March April May 2018)
What country of contrast you have!
Christian Lemieux
Chicoutimi, Québec
Bless your brave explorations, Annie: these are harsh realities much needed for us to become a stronger, wiser country. Finding balance sometimes seems to me impossible. But weaving between the realities of human blindness and cruelty, weaving on through occasions of amazing resilience and courage, touching the healing rhythms of nature, relishing the silly joys of humans, having the company of generous and kind people … the tensions are never gone but life rich and full, mostly. I don’t know the right words when the feelings are too deep for vocabulary. I do know that your witnessing is vital and meaningful.
“She looked for people to talk to, people who would understand what she said. For it was certainly not possible that she was the only person to have made such discoveries. Where were they, then, the others? She went about listening, dropping a hint, a suggestion, waiting for an echo”
Doris Lessing, The Four-Gated City, 1969
Thank you for your introspection — it is like an echo for me.