August 14, 2020: Me and Effective Metaphors -

I’ve been reading Me and White Supremacy, by Layla Saad. You have too, no doubt. It is the number one checked-out ebook title at the Multnomah County Library, followed by four more books on anti-racism. There are unlimited copies of all five titles available for check-out, immediately, so if you want to join the party, there is no waiting involved, nor do you need to schedule a pickup appointment.

The book involves a guided 28-day reading and journaling process, and I’m lucky enough to be reading it in a group that does a weekly check-in via Zoom. I didn’t know any of these people before I started, and I might not recognize them now if I ran into them on the street, since those Zoom thumbnails are small, and some people are perennially backlit or (somewhat mysteriously) illumined by a very dim red glow.

I’ve come to like these people: the adoptive parents, the little old Southern women, the artists, the transgender kid who grew up Fundamentalist, the sorrowful activist, the philosophical immigrant, all of them. We’re on Day 23, so we’ll be disbanding soon, and I’ll be sorry to see them go.

Coincidentally (but probably not, seeing as this is Portland, and Portland has a theme right now) I was invited, way back on about Day Two, to become a member of the Facebook group for the Wall of Moms. Following the Wall of Moms Facebook thread has been perhaps more of an education than reading Me and White Supremacy, though the Venn diagram between those two activities has a huge amount of overlap.

It may have been on WoM that I first noticed a recurrent theme, “You aren’t going to get any cookies.”  But at almost the same instant, I read it in Me and White Supremacy.

You aren’t going to get any cookies.

I am certain that I have read this sentence from time to time, and understood its metaphorical import – essentially, don’t go expecting praise and rewards and head pats for doing something that needs doing and that is Not About You, and so forth. It’s not that I hadn’t seen it. I just hadn’t seen it repeated and repeated, a mantra, a lyric, a refrain. Do the work.  Don’t try to boast about how you are doing the work. Don’t be optical or performative or center yourself. It is Not About You. Shut up, sit down, do the work, keep doing it, and quit waiting for praise. You aren’t going to get any cookies.

Don’t get me wrong.

I’m not mocking the lesson, which is salutary. I’m mocking ME. For the past many weeks, I have been wanting cookies so badly. Not just praise, which I live for and which is my primary fuel in life, but actual, material cookies.  I’m not going to get any COOKIES? Now,  with the world in a mess? This is a blow.

SO! Last night, I went to a highly distanced outdoor gathering of five humans. The hostess, who works in public health, had been worrying about Safe Snacks. (Apparently this group has a history of offering top-notch snacks, so the pressure was on.) She had finally decided that individually wrapped packets (set on a faraway table) would be okay.  There was a large container of wipes as a centerpiece. And thus, someone gave me cookies. I’m not eating them yet. I brought them home where I could admire them for a while.