Author: darlene anita scott
...yeah, the one you met the other day in the grocery store. She made you wanna say something to her. You did. And now you can’t remember her name. But that wasn’t really the important part of the meeting anyway.
I'm an excellent tryer and dedicated if not so-so runner. I’m probably too old to still play on the monkey bars. But I do. Maybe too young to groove to Sam Cooke. But I listen to him. I'm powered by plants, a pacemaker, and anything creative.
I like making collages, making up my mind and sticking to it, and making up recipes; almost anything by James Baldwin; almost anything with black beans in it; and probably more than is healthy for the average human: I like alone time and homemade popcorn—not necessarily together.
I daydream constantly. I write poetry and prose. Sometimes I teach it to people. Sometimes I read or recite it to people. And even less often I publish it.
I could be more tolerant of overpriced grapes, people who drive with parking lights on, and deafening car stereos.
I like to laugh but don’t do it as often as I should. Some people think I'm shy. Some think I'm a mute. I'm happy to be here and try to make the most of it.
Coded
I have met white women who pretend sincerity like her. Like her they work in race theory or the equity industrial complex, love animals, show up on paper and sometimes on foot for every liberal cause under the sun. But their interpersonal integrity often reflects their code. They make props of the people and causes on which their identities and livelihoods are formed.
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Storytime
This tale of two schools is not a metaphor; not symbol or parable. It is an example of how history is systemically erased in this country. While many complain that this is a new practice of the current administration, it's not. It's a tale as old as the history of the American project. Take only part of the story and you have rewritten it. It is no longer the same story.
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Relationship Goals: The Liberating Power of Intimacy in What We’ve Become
So-called Black love...necessarily invents itself against the backdrop of legal and extra-legal exploitation of Black people that could reasonably disrupt intimacy except that Black people make choices... for Black people intimacy is not painless and is one of the most profound yet mundane aspects of our lives.
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Bigger Than A Marathon
So, yes, I want(ed) to race again. But this is bigger than running a marathon. One of the things that truly sucks about living with a so-called rare disease like sarcoidosis is you're invisible even in the spaces that are designed to help you. In clinical environments, you are a question mark. There are so many presentations, you could be suffering from anything...or nothing. In the world, you don't "look sick." In research environments you do not take precedence.
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Running for my life
Even as it seemed elusive, I believed I would realize my dream someday. Well, someday is here.
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I call myself a professor, but…
The weight of our impact and the pressures it brings are familiar to me. So I hold Professor Davis in so much love and light. I hope she is being well supported. I hope we all are, in the quiet work that happens outside performance reviews and tenure packets; as we hope it will not be us but quietly accept the possibility and responsibility.
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Marrow Shorts: Digital Poem Series
"Marrow tells stories of members of Peoples Temple, stories that have been mis-remembered, un-remembered, and mostly obscured from the historical record. You can find those stories here."
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Reflections on the Half-Life of Marrow
So, who were the people of Peoples Temple? What were their fears and aspirations? Where did they locate joy in their lives and what were their vices? Who and how did they love? I wrote to these questions as a series of human stories, stories linked by the subjects’ common denominator – Peoples Temple – but linked even more broadly to the “people” part.
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Can we talk?
"Grape is the sweetest betrayal. There is no removing the stain of it say moms everywhere & even if kids choose it last, they choose it, as loyal to its sugar as any."
darlene anita scott 