hope is not a strategy!
but it will help us mobilize the masses for the future
It’s been a minute since I’ve sent something out to you, I know. To be honest, friends, I’ve been busy fighting fascism and my inner demons. Both are a bitch, preventing me from doing what I love most: writing! This might be raw, but that’s what this newsletter is about—the unvarnished shit that comes out of my brain and straight into your inbox—so here’s one about what I’ve been up to, some good news (on the NYC front!) and some gentle reminders as we move forward as people witnessing historic events in real time.
Let’s Zoh! (Keep our politicians accountable!)
The first thing I wanted to draw your attention to is that our man Zohran Mamdani won the NYC mayoral election. I haven’t seen people mobilize in such huge numbers since Obama’s first presidential run. It doesn’t hurt that Mamdani and his wife are a verifiable hot-ass bisexual polyamorous person’s dream. (Insert meme of them seeing me from across the bar here.) Mamdani is a millennial, and his wife is the epitome of a Gen-Z it girl.
However, the fanaticism of Mamdani’s meteoric rise in the polls reminds me so much of Obama that I can’t forget the shitty aftermath. We must remember that Mamdani is entering the establishment now. He works for the people, and he also inherits the problems his predecessors caused, including his former opponent (sexual harasser + billionaire shill) Andrew Cuomo’s. The current federal administration threatened citizens that a vote for Mamdani means cuts in federal funding for the city. NYC makes up a lot of the country’s economy: Does Trump really want to see the entire country crumble because of his petty agenda?
I wonder if the Gen-Zers that made up most of the early voting turnout remember Obama’s unprecedented 2008 victory. I was a sophomore in high school and unable to vote, but I remember watching my older peers rise in support. We were promised a radical leader in our first Black president, and we watched the Republican-majority legislative branch slash and stall any progress his administration attempted to make. As a country, we moved our baseline-center more to the right during Obama’s presidency. Neoliberalism felt like the correct approach to these leaders simply because money and the American oligarchy spoke. This might all sound like academic jargon, but what I want to emphasise is that we should not idolize or deify our politicians.
As soon as Mamdani enters office, he enters an institution meant to fail the 99%. He will face major opposition despite Governor Hochul’s endorsement. So we need to make sure he keeps fighting for the people who voted for him. Now that we’ve hired him, we must ensure that he does his job as one of our representatives. If he truly wants an affordable, livable NYC, then he must prove it with his actions.
Hope is not a strategy. It is a feeling that helps mobilize the people in masses, but it should not be the only fuel for progressive policies. We cannot pin our hopes and dreams on any single candidate or politician. Though these people represent our struggles, ultimately they entered a system that was never designed to work for the common American. Remember that while this is a moment to take stock and feel hope for the first time in a fucking long-ass time, I urge everyone to turn that hope into action. Ultimately, we take care of one another.
If our systems fail us (which they do) we must chip in and sustain ourselves through mutual aid and helping one another.
your "heroes" are fallible
Part of the reason I've been so absent is that I'm processing a fairly harmful workshop situation I was in recently. Not Tin House, for those of you asking. (Tin House, for those who are unaware, is one of the premier writing workshops out there, and also one of the most inclusive and affirming. I highly recommend applying and attending if you're interested in furthering your writing craft.)
I'm certain I'll write about this in the future posts, and it'll probably become a future chapter in book... But I ended up going to a workshop in Europe to study craft from one of my literary heroes, a person whose work shaped the way I view my mental health, and it turned out to be the single worst learning experience I've had. I can't knock those who had a wonderful time there, especially because none of the women attending had ever been to a workshop before, but something about the lack of generosity and good literary citizenship made me feel icky.
Here's a recap for those who don't follow me on Instagram:
in may, I applied for what seemed to be an opportunity i couldn’t say no to: a chance to learn from the writer who helped me make sense of my trauma. what could be better? despite lack of info bc the program was so young/new, i made it work. their marketing & acceptance emails touted how special i was, and that i got one of the LAST spots—but i only had seven days to send them a deposit of over $1000 USD. and yes, while i do work FT as a creative with some help, i pay my way for these opportunities—esp if alone—and settled on a payment plan. for me, the opportunity STARTED at almost 4K. for others, who were in the 1:1 advanced manuscript feedback, had two hours of allotted time with their tutor, paid over 5k to be traumatized when their instructor started espousing harmful, stereotypical racist BS. (she was, of course, a white British lady.)
[...]
for ~4k, i was promised feedback on my manuscript, craft lessons, “luxury” food and amenities/trips—and tbh i got none of that. our planned excursions were cut short, rescheduled or cancelled altogether without many alternative field trips (other than to towns we’d already been.) lunch was always cold, even when [...] should be hot. the cishet women would giggle and gaggle about the lack of 🍆 while taking pictures of male staff. my facilitator is loud about creating more spaces for diversity, but failed to show up for the most marginalized students in the cohort. i was confused for my comrade [...] on multiple occasions, misgendered, policed and surveilled (a staff member lingered close to me during events) for speaking up. the organizers lied to the facilitator.
I don't think I have to point out what good literary citizenship is, there are plenty of essays about that. (I recommend Esmé Weijun Wang's essay, as well as this missive from the Writing Group Club) If you're going to take yourself seriously as a writer, you need to find your audience and also engage with your peers in a meaningful and almost generous way.
While the blame rests mainly on the organization for their sheer lack of knowledge and support, the facilitator (again, someone I considered a literary hero of mine) could have created a safer structure. Unfortunately, because of the lack of guidance given to the facilitator ahead of time (miscommunication and missed expectations,) and the facilitator instituting clear boundaries---a no-ask list, no way to contact them unless it was through the organization (again, they did not provide an e-mail, nor did they participate in the group WhatsApp chat)--it turned out to be a super shitty experience for the most marginalized in the group. While the writer in question has been loud about her experiences as a person of color in primarily white spaces, her actions didn't align with her words.
I am sad that this was an expensive lesson in learning that people are fallible, they will disappoint you. While this is the inverse of the lesson I've learned, I think a lot about one of my favourite scenes from Community, where the character Troy Barnes meets his hero, LeVar Burton.
I'll let you see for yourself:
Housekeeping Notes
I have a few things to point out, and am grateful for your continued subscription and support of this publication on an independent platform.
I am going through a life-changing surgery in a few weeks that I hope will increase my quality of life, as I’ve dealt with an increasing amount of pain and distress the last few years. That being said: my surgeon asked me to take until my post-op in early December to recover and “not stress out about deadlines.” She was pretty adamant that I take at least two weeks off, so I probably won’t send another one of these until the holidays. If you’re in NYC and want to help contribute to my post-op/recovery care, click here. If you’re not in NYC, I would ask that you respond to this e-mail and keep in touch with me as I’ll be needing a lot of emotional support for the rest of the year. (Seriously, if it’s anything like last year’s recovery lol, it’ll be physically OK but emotionally draining.)
I’m a little disappointed that my ambitious goal to finish a first draft of my newest project, a novel, has stalled because of the sheer amount of shit I need to finish. It’s fine ,and I write little bits every day, but not the 1,777+ words I was anticipating.
However, I’ve edited two pieces that were set for publication—one of which is my interview with author Terese Svoboda about her new book, Hitler and My Mother in Law, for Epiphany Literary Magazine. The other will come out later this year with Seventh Wave in their On Separation anthology.
Thank you so much for your time and attention. I appreciate your continued support and generosity.
All my love and more,
C x
