There are no Black people in the audience. Nor Asians, Latinos, or indigenous peoples. Aspen is overwhelmingly White.
That’s what I recall most about the campaign scenes in the Hunter S. Thompson documentary. All the White people. But that’s how it was growing up in Colorado. All White people, all the time.
The racial makeup of the city [is] 94.94 percent White, 0.44 percent Black or African American, 0.24 percent Native American, 1.45 percent Asian, 0.08 percent Pacific Islander, 1.64 percent from other races, and 1.2 percent from two or more races. Hispanic or Latino of any race were 6.14 percent of the population. – Wikipedia
Until I moved to Farmington, New Mexico in the 5th grade. I remember reassembling our swing set in our yard at the Paradise Village mobile home park on Troy King Road. Those rickety, hollow metal legs that echoed when you tapped them. We pushed one upright and soft, moist, black earth from Leadville slid out to meet the pale, dry, crunchy Sand of Enchantment. The sand on which I met my Navajo Indian friends. The ones who brought Zip-loc bags of tiny dark brown piñons to school – long before you could buy them conveniently shelled at Trader Joe’s – picked fresh from the trees on the reservation and shared with me at lunch. Brown girls with long black hair, knowing eyes, and skin that could handle the sun like matadors handle the bull. Brown girls with names like Carmen Begay and Mary Benally.
Speaking of dark and light. Black and white. White and brown. Speaking of privilege.
I mean, think about just the privilege of documentation. You know, at one point, you had a death wish if you were an enslaved Black person trying to learn how to read or write. So already there's a power imbalance with who gets to tell which stories, who gets to disperse a certain narrative. And also, think about institutions. A lot of institutions that can put out information and disseminate it widely are dominated by white people. And oftentimes, oral history is seen as secondary or tertiary to what is considered “fact,” quote unquote. “Proof,” quote unquote. Evidence.”
– Morgan Jerkins interviewed in The Milkman’s Baby
There is privilege in knowing. I see how privileged I am. Because even though I didn’t really know my father, look at all I’ve discovered since I started, just via typing in a search box. A lot. All because my dad was a privileged White male. A hedonist. A mountain beatnik. A man who pretty much got everything he ever wanted and ignored everything he never did. Want, that is. Like me.
You gotta know about the history of your people. How you got to be here, that’s all based on what people done to get you here. Us bears, you Indians, we been through a lot. They tried to kill us. But then when you hear them tell it, they make history seem like one big heroic adventure across an empty forest. There were bears and Indians all over the place. Sister, they slit all our throats.
– Tommy Orange, There There
I’ve discovered other things about the White supremacy I’ve directly benefited from, passed down from my mother’s side in St. Louis; I’ll tell you about it later. For now I want to tell you how spent I feel based solely on the things I’ve learned so far. How spent I feel, like I just dove into the deep end of a public pool to retrieve toy rings, then swam back to the surface, my lungs pleading for air. I need a rest after retrieving all these things. A rest at the side of the pool, my hair dripping wet, my body prone and head turned, absorbing heat from the cement while I watch the blue water lap and sparkle, chlorine trickling down my cheek, popping in my ears.
Breathing.
Things That Nourished My Writing: April 22-May 3.
FILM
The Present An Oscar-nominated short film set in Palestine. Speaking of Palestine, Ramadan Mubarak.
FOOD
Marou Provisions Cacao Cashew Spread on Met Market pita bread.
PCC Vanilla Grass-Fed Yogurt with sliced strawberries and raw pistachios.
Un Jardin Verde on the patio at Harry’s Fine Foods.
LITERARY
Having the Last Say by Alan Gelb
The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway
MUSIC
Pollen playlist on Spotify
PLACES
Rowing through the Lake Washington Ship Canal via the Fremont Cut to the Ballard Bridge.