\u201cI Give You Back\u201d– \u201cI release you, my beautiful and terrible fear \/ I release you \u2026. I am not afraid to be angry \/ I am not afraid to rejoice \u2026\u201d–Joy Harjo<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve been known to be angry. I react. And, no I\u2019m not bi-polar as some have labeled me. I didn\u2019t, I don\u2019t, I wouldn\u2019t take those accusations lightly. I\u2019ve been to therapy. I was never diagnosed as bi-polar. Though there should be no shame if there was such a diagnosis. Just as there should be no shame in being Black\/Chinese\/Female\/. Nor guilt in reacting. I do get angry when racism and sexism become provocateurs of shame, of trauma, of violence.<\/p>\n
Eden Torres wrote in CHICANA WITHOUT APOLOGY: <\/p>\n
We have the right to be angry no matter how long ago the original trauma occurred or how different things were then, no matter how much progress has taken place, no matter how ignorant or well-intentioned our oppressors have been, no matter what change is promised in the future. Our fury is justified anytime we are ignored, silenced, negatively stereotyped, incorrectly labeled, or otherwise not respected. Any occasion in which our history is omitted or lied about deserves our indignant dismissal.90 Until equality and justice become reality, we have a right to be angry. Page 41 Eden gave me permission to be angry.<\/p>\n
Wang Ping was angry. She wrote a poem, \u201cWhat Are You Still Angry About.\u201d The poem moves forward by a lengthy rewriting of family genealogy\u2014along maternal, instead of paternal lines.<\/p>\n
But I must be an ungrateful beast\/because I always feel like screaming with my broken voice.\/How can I explain the anger that prevents me from breathing?\/I want to scream\/every time I bow to my family tree which hangs in the clan hall.\/It records the men of Wang family for over fivty generations\/whereas the names of my female ancestors\/just vanish like tadpole tails..\/I scream, but I have no voice.\/So I write this genealogy along maternal lines.
\n\u2026
\nThe need to speak\/leaves me restless like a hunger.\/My words may not say what I mean,\/but they\u2019re my only means.\/I must scream through my voiceless throat,\/even if I have to burp and fart,\/and suffer from chronic diarrhea.\/I don\u2019t care.\/I\u2019m tearing myself and this world apart,\/to find out why I\u2019m still angry.<\/p>\n
Anger is why I write, writing to undo self-loathing-what Jesmyn Ward in her memoir wrote:<\/p>\n
We are never free from the feeling that we have failed. We are never free from self-loathing. We are never free from the feeling that something is wrong with us, not with the world that made this mess.\u201d\u2014Jesmyn Ward, Men We Reaped a memoir, 2013, Bloomsbury USA, New York<\/p>\n
And Dorothy West\u2019s narrator in The Wedding said: bigotry\u2019s most monstrous crime, more damaging than a laundry list of physical indignities because it amounted to a mental rape, a theft of personal dignity.\u201d <\/p>\n
What is personal dignity when one is brought up to be someone she isn\u2019t because black is not safe. Jim Crow is prevalent, even here in Minnesota Nice.<\/p>\n
Perhaps not a very smooth transition-critics have said I don\u2019t write non-linear well, even though non-linear is most likely the result of trying to write linear well-the universe has led me in a different direction. Instead of anger, I want to think out loud about Social Media and how it relates or doesn\u2019t to my identity as a mixed race Chinese Black woman who grew up passing for white.<\/p>\n
I find social media to be provocative. Provocative which is exciting and stimulating YET incendiary and inflammatory.<\/p>\n
Merriam Webster: Synonyms of provocative. charged, edgy, exciting, inciting, instigating, instigative, piquing, provoking, stimulating. Words Related to provocative. explosive, fiery, incendiary, inflammatory, triggering.<\/p>\n
Recently I have been weaning myself from social media. I\u2019ve deleted my Pinterest, Instagram, and, yes, my Twitter accounts. FB I have been tweaking, but not yet, but soon, will also go the way of annoying social media accounts. Annoying perhaps not a strong enough word.<\/p>\n
The ads, no sooner do I click that I\u2019m not interested in seeing ads like this or ads from a particular business-who wants to see ads at all on social media, but then another one pops up and another. I see a post of a cute kitty or a friend\u2019s baby and while I\u2019m marveling at the cuteness the next an ad for the cheap but utterly stylish pair of shoes catches my eye and I have to use will power not to click open the link but instead click no I don\u2019t want to see stylish shoes or clothes or recipes-okay I do like the recipes the photos of scalloped potatoes or cake, but I don\u2019t , usually, click on them.<\/p>\n
What\u2019s even more annoying than the ads are those you\u2019ve been selected; you have won pop-ups that you can\u2019t get rid of. There\u2019s no x in the corner to opt out. Believe me I haven\u2019t won anything except a headache.<\/p>\n
I do like the calendar of events which are categorized by day, by weekend, etc. I think it\u2019s more concise than other Twin Cities event links you can google. But why do I want FB gurus to tell me what events my FB friends are interested in-I probably wouldn\u2019t recognize many of them even if I went to the same event, nor them me. And basically, the gurus have yet to realize I\u2019m 70, I seldom drive at night, and I don\u2019t go to many events other than daytime senior priced movies. But, personal invites are nice, I\u2019ve personally created events for readings I\u2019ve curated and personally invited writer friends I think would be most interested.<\/p>\n
And, have you noticed how much duplication there is with social media. When I suddenly realized I\u2019ve seen the same post on Twitter, on Instagram, and also on FB-I begin not to pay much attention to any of them.
\nBut what unnerves me the most, getting to my focus which is A GOOD TIME FOR THE TRUTH, are the in-my-face proclamations of the political-think the once popular adage the personal is political- nature posts in my news feed. I think of the term micro-aggressions.<\/p>\n
Micro-aggressions are the everyday verbal, nonverbal, and environmental slights, snubs, or insults, whether intentional or unintentional, which communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative messages to target persons based solely upon their marginalized group membership. https:\/\/www.psychologytoday.com\/<\/p>\n
I think of micro-aggressions as slaps to the face, kicks in the butts and as a mixed race women who grew up passing for white who believes in God, but not religion. I get kicked and slapped from so many hands and feet coming from this direction and that direction (not to say I\u2019ve never done a bit of slapping or kicking also, but seldom). Who hasn\u2019t been slapped and kicked? Who hasn\u2019t done their share of the same?<\/p>\n
What exactly are we communicating\/not communicating to each other? Are we communicating\/affirming our beliefs to the choir? Is it a battle he said\/she said we said\/they said of the 21st century? Are we making friends or enemies? Who actually is listening to us on social media. Apparently on FB not many. Although we may have thousands of friends, or a mere two or three hundred, big brother decides who sees our posts and what posts we see-I think the limit is 24?<\/p>\n
Someone once called me a righteous bigot. I knew he was wrong. But I knew what he meant. I think now that\u2019s what subtle and not so subtle microagressions feel like. I feel I\u2019m constantly being slapped on FB with \u201cfriends\u201d righteous attitudes-many I agree with, less than I don\u2019t. I think wow, there are a lot of righteous bigots in this world. And they are screaming at me on a \u201csocial\u201d media. And that screaming is traumatizing. Particularly for me, it\u2019s traumatizing because I am mixed race and grew up culturally white so I don\u2019t fit into one I\u2019m screaming at you category.<\/p>\n
I have mixed emotions thinking about leaving FB. It can be informative, it can be funny. It can make a lonely person less lonely. I have a page dedicated to writing events, especially events the writers in How Dare We! Write are involved with.<\/p>\n
But it can also be traumatic, exhausting. I have two groups on FB I really like Thrifting Divas and Creative Writing Pedagogy. But, to be inclusive to who I am there\u2019s also Asian groups, African American groups, mixed race groups, and subgroups of those groups and I feel bombarded by the wonderfulness of inclusion, yet the trauma of the time and effort it takes to belong.<\/p>\n
When we post a link to an article to our FB Newsfeed without comment are we shaking in our boots, not brave enough to share our opinion? Or do we share our opinion as God given truth, the only truth? Are we brave enough to comment on a post that truly makes us angry when we have facts to offer that might shed light on someone\u2019s righteous attitude? I\u2019ve done both, but neither seems satisfactory. Does any of it really matter? <\/p>\n
Naomi Littlebear, excerpt from THIS BRIDGE CALLED BY BACK, edited by Cherrie Moraga and Gloria Anzald\u00faa wrote \u201cComplacency is a far more dangerous attitude than outrage.\u201d But is FB the environment for outrage?
\nMany of my FB friends don\u2019t know me; I don\u2019t know them-we wouldn\u2019t recognize each other on the street or be able to address each other by name.<\/p>\n
My life has straddled cultural boundaries for 70 years. I have yet to find a home that isn\u2019t porous. Even with the emergence of mixed race communities I find the communities are mostly young and hip and political; and often more black and white than diverse.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve discovered if a person writes for a long enough period of time the reason for the writing emerges. I was writing to send my swan song, eventually, soon to my FB friends, but it became the focus of what I didn\u2019t know I wanted to say today.<\/p>\n
Who we are matters. Who we are is complex and complicated. Who we are changes over time; identity is fluid. I have discovered who I am thru my writing and the writing of others. My mother gave up her Black relatives to protect me from the Jim Crow era of atrocities. My siblings, I imagine, have given me up for undoing that protection. We each have our own unique story. I have only my story to offer. And my story, as I\u2019ve aged, is changing.<\/p>\n
On becoming 70 I notice I\u2019ve become less righteous, less angry, and mostly tired. Someone asked if I didn\u2019t care about race, about equality any more. I was shocked and dismayed by the question. Of course I care. I live \u201cracism\u201d every day. That\u2019s why I continue to write, that\u2019s why I encourage and work with other, especially POC writers. But my attitude has changed. My mantra is to be humble. Be kind. Be joyful. Not to be righteous, but only to suggest: If you\u2019re going to shout, shout Amen and hallelujah. Don\u2019t give your life away. Positive change is slow to happen. Don\u2019t be a martyr. But stay informed, stay aware, and choose to be active in ways that are meaningful to you and to others while at the same time taking care of you.<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t fit in a box. No matter how many boxes there are to check on the Census, on health forms, on school forms, etc. I don\u2019t fit in a box\/or boxes. If you want to know me, invite me for coffee or a glass of red wine. Or read me. Read my books.<\/p>\n
“Words , I see now, are the defining shape of a human spirit. Without them, we fall. Without them. There is no accounting for the human place in the world. Language is an intimacy not only with others, but even with the self. It creates a person. Without it, in the dawn, in the dark of night, there is no way to know who or what we are.<\/p>\n
“One day the words came. I was an adult. I went to school after work. I read. I wrote. Words came, anchored to the earth, to matter, to the wholeness of nature. There was, in this, a fall, this time to a holy ground of a different order, a present magic, a light-bearing, soul-saving presence that illuminated my heart and mind and altered my destiny. Without it, who would guess what, as a human being, I might have become.\u201d\u2014 The Woman Who Watches Over the World, Linda Hogan page 56-57<\/p>\n
Like Linda I was silent. I was afraid, not really sure what I was afraid of. But words came in the form of writing\/not speaking. In fifth grade a poetry club, a journal. Pitter Patter the Rain Does Splatter. 7th grade a literary journal. High School. Creative writing club-crush on a boy.<\/p>\n
I became who I am before I was born; born of slavery; born of a Chinese father and a Negro mother into a racist world that cursed me into being white. History became me, until I became myself.
\nUntil words appeared, at first just silly fifth grade rhyming poems-about rain. Then poems to impress, in high school, the poet nerd I had a crush on. Soon after, words became explanations and rants and hellos, but mostly goodbyes to lovers, to husbands, to in-laws to white people who for their own comfort and ease didn\u2019t want to discuss race, didn\u2019t want to learn about me.<\/p>\n
In my twenties and thirties and forties and fifties-an academic education taught me words that had been missing -taught me who I am and the difficulty that is me, taught me all about oppression and white privilege.
\nI took that learning underground, formed books of verse that said I now know how oppression-how racism, sexism, gender, and now ageism- has formed my identity; each book a closure, a new beginning. But that\u2019s a lie. Each book demanded more, what wasn\u2019t I saying?<\/p>\n
Until poetry became not enough, became a gathering of metaphor that only I understood. And then prose dared me to dig deeper, to go underworld, beneath my own damned ego, to fill in the blanks, to cement the bricks with mortar. And here I am, finally ready to enter a world larger than myself and my story.<\/p>\n
I am not going to read from a Good Time for the Truth<\/em>. If you are one of the 20,000 readers that have bought the book, you\u2019ve probably already read my story. Sun Yung Shin when she invited me to submit my story she countered it with but don\u2019t tell anything you\u2019ve already told before, not anything you\u2019ve written in your recent memoir Love Imagined a mixed race memoir. I\u2019m going to read a story from my memoir, Love Imagined<\/em>, that isn\u2019t repeated in A Good Time for the Truth. A story that reveals how complicated race is, how it affects families. And why equality matters. (IF IT WALKS LIKE A DUCK)<\/p>\n I retired from teaching creative writing a year ago. For a quick promo: I always wanted a book on craft by WOC to use as a text book. There weren\u2019t any that I knew of at the time. After my retirement my publisher said write the book. How Dare We! Write: a multicultural creative writing discourse by Modern History Press “So-called “creative writing” classes are highly politicized spaces, but no one says so; to acknowledge this obvious fact would be to up-end the aesthetics, cultural politics (ideology) and economics on which most educational institutions are founded How Dare We! Write, a brilliant interventive anthology of essays, breaks this silence.” I believe who we are influences our writing, just as who we are may defy those who think they have power over our writing. I knew in my heart that for writers of color, writing isn\u2019t just about process and In ending, Clarissa Pinkola Est\u00e9s writes in WOMEN WHO RUNS WITH WOLVES, \u201cWhat must I give more death to today, in order to generate more life.\u201d <\/p>\n I give death to anger by writing what I am angry about. Again. Again. And again. Between each death I am joyously alive. Between each death I have gained understanding and shut out self-loathing and shame.<\/p>\n \u201cI died once. And then I died again. And then, death had no hold on me.\u201d Note: I wrote this for a presentation some years ago. Revisiting it again today, October 16, 2025, because today’s political climate demands OUTRAGE.<\/strong> <\/p>\n Complacency is a far more dangerous attitude than outrage. Also, I deleted my FB account December 2024<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cI Give You Back\u201d– \u201cI release you, my beautiful and terrible fear \/ I release you \u2026. I am not afraid to be angry \/ I am not afraid to rejoice \u2026\u201d–Joy Harjo I\u2019ve been known to be angry. I react. And, no I\u2019m not bi-polar as some have labeled …<\/p>\n
\nSynopsis: How Dare We! Write: a multicultural creative writing discourse offers a much needed corrective to the usual dry and uninspired creative writing pedagogy. The collection asks us to consider questions, such as “What does it mean to work through resistance from supposed mentors, to face rejection from publishers and classmates, and to stand against traditions that silence you?” and “How can writers and teachers even begin to make diversity matter in meaningful ways on the page, in the classroom, and on our bookshelves?”<\/p>\n
\n–Maria Damon, Pratt Institute of Art; co-editor of Poetry and Cultural Studies: A Reader<\/p>\n
\ncraft, but also the challenges we face as writers, and how we overcome those challenges. I imagined a textbook that gives support and encouragement to those of us who understand that one size doesn\u2019t fit
\nall, that MFA programs don\u2019t necessarily address our needs, nor do publishers necessarily accept stories that don\u2019t fit their agendas or economic needs. I wanted a textbook that considers the relevance of
\nrace, class, gender, age, and sexual identity; culture and language; and that by so doing, on some level, facilitates healing.<\/p>\n
\nJoy Harjo wrote the poem, \u201cI Give You Back\u201d– \u201cI release you, my beautiful and terrible fear \/ I release you \u2026. I am not afraid to be angry \/ I am not afraid to rejoice \u2026. But come here, fear \/ I am alive and you are so afraid \/ of dying.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n— Jacqueline Woodson, AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A FAMILY PHOTO by
\n<\/p>\n
\n\t –Naomi Littlebear Moreno<\/p>\n