Before I collapse into whatever moaning and groaning I’ve managed to pique your interest with today, I’d like to preface this issue with a couple of things. First, this issue is a hodge-podge of many topics (my summer favorites and unfavorites, college life thus far, black exhaustion) with a loosely recurring theme. Second, primarily caused by the latter two topics in the aforementioned list, my attention has been super scattered this week. I’ve proposed and abandoned ideas, reworked old material; my restlessness has negatively impacted my ability to focus in on one concept and write it well. I figured it was best to work with this brain fog rather than around it, and thus you will now receive an amalgamation of every thought that has passed through my brain in the last week. Let’s start light, though.
This summer has been very valuable to me, full of a good balance of sunshine and lazy days spent in rest. My family moved residences at the beginning of the season, which was a bit hectic at first but much fun when it came to customizing our new living space; an added plus must be mentioned that I have my own bedroom for the first time in forever, now allocated as a guest room in my absence. This little sanctuary is where I did much of my writing, working and living that can be spoken for this summer. I was allowed time for peace and introspection (two of my favorite things) before I was thrust into the world of university and independence. To compile a few of the notable experiences and media I endured besides the former, I’ve taken many liberties with this issue! Walk with me!
To be quite honest with y’all, I’m a follower if nothing else. If I see a trend that catches my eye, my desire to be a part of the conversation wins over disinterest about half of the time. The most fervent of said trends that enraptured me over the last month (as many of you regrettably know) was the Netflix show Outer Banks. I was originally deterred by the lack of accurate North Carolinian accents, deep mystery and locational accuracy. But never fear, season two is here! After days of discreetly watching along with my sister (a longtime fan, I may add) I took the plunge. More to come in the future on this show and its relation to the coming of age genre, but I’m not ashamed anymore. I’m free; I like to have fun! And be entertained while I do! I’ve learned that sometimes you can shut your writer brain off entirely and just watch pretty people cavort around an island on boats looking for treasure, and sometimes you can set it to overdrive and deconstruct the themes and characters as much as possible. As you may have guessed, I often picked the latter and I’m having a total blast. I’m a bit rabid, and taking things much too seriously for a 40-minute dramedy, but the world is my oyster, and so are Netflix originals. It’s good if I say it is, and so forth.
Now for another unfavorite. An anti-rec, if you will. As a part of my recreational summer reading a month or so ago, I decided to revisit Allegedly and Monday’s Not Coming by Tiffany D. Jackson. These highly acclaimed young adult books have been praised for their dexterity in handling black female leads and representing the realities of how society fails black girls every day. To say the least, after revisiting the texts I certainly didn’t agree with such high reviews and applause, and was left with much more residual rage than catharsis. Briefly, I will provide summaries of the plot of each novel (spoilers included, FYI). Allegedly covers the story of a teenage girl named Mary who has been accused of murdering a white baby she was caring for and subsequently imprisoned; her approach towards liberation and proving her innocence is soiled by the fact that she is pregnant herself by an adult, and must escape her federal group home first. Monday’s Not Coming depicts a tale of two best friends, Claudia and Monday. Monday goes missing, and as Claudia tries to uncover the truth, many grisly details come to light as Claudia’s mental state deteriorates.
Beyond my frustrations with plot holes and prose for Jackson’s works, I take real offense at the way ambitious discussions of genuine issues are handled in each book. As certain eagle eyed readers pointed out, the lack of proper legal and sociological research done to support core issues in each book is a nuisance. For example, Monday’s Not Coming tries and fails to breach issues of gentrification in Black DC communities, all the while enforcing stereotypes that worsen the effects of gentrification itself. The main character Claudia resides in a well off family with a good home, strict and steady church attendance and a mother who cooks custom meals. Of course, these parents despise the housing projects and “ghetto neighborhoods” that Monday lives in, and turn their noses down at attempts to intervene when such housing is eliminated in their community. Depictions of Claudia’s developmental and learning disabilities are used as cheap flashback plot devices, instead of tools that bring to light the lack of diagnoses for Black girls with dyslexia, ADHD and more. With such a platform and heavy issues being written about, room for error must be airtight- especially coming from a Black woman who is no stranger to such realities.
In addition to sloppy core work, both books end on a bleak note that leaves more to be desired from the plot and protagonists. They’re just bad! Mary is revealed to be a lying sociopath, and Claudia’s acquired memory loss and dyslexia masked the fact that Monday and her younger brother were abused and murdered by their own mother. I don’t find these plot twists particularly inventive or illuminating, and neither is supported by “clues” or subtext earlier in the book. With narration that rivals that of a 9-year-old for each teenage girl (14 or older) and character descriptions that don’t go deep enough to penetrate the reader’s interest, both novels fall more than flat for me. Gross.
Anyway. Back to the favorites; I have been found many times this summer in my Poshmark era. More reasonably priced and less snobby than Depop, better organized than Ebay, price haggling for days and an easy UI- what more could a girl want? Once I get past the soccer mom closets and start to refine your tastes and brands, this hub for secondhand clothing has become my digital shopping epicenter. Dorm decorations, custom art on canvas, skirts, sweaters, hoodies galore! There’s something for everyone. Plus, you can just as easily sell as you can buy, no shipping costs or super wack price cuts either. I wish this was sponsored. Poshmark Inc., if you’re reading this…
People have gone on for ages about the romance of companionship in walking, but I’ve further developed the solace of walking alone this year. Many a gloomy February day in Chicago I could have been found walking West Town or River North, bundled up, earbuds in, in a state of bliss. These moments are great for contemplation, reflection, rest, observation, really any purpose you wish them to serve. My walks were sacred times to unwind, listen to some of my favorite music and explore my favorite city. Seriously, try it. If you’re able, map out a short route and get out there!
Unfortunately another unfavorite is coming up last. Life at a PWI has yielded a number of experiences in the last two weeks, mostly negative in their impressions. I commiserated as two white friends spent the better part of an hour evaluating, learning, and filming one TikTok dance trend I’d seen a group of my black friends complete in 10 minutes on a different occasion. I have been designated Iridessa of Pixie Hollow for the group Halloween costume. That’s the black one, in case you didn’t know. I cracked jokes with the BSU about how our tailgate was probably the only opportunity to get seasoned food on campus before Thanksgiving break. I had to tell people what a BSU was! I jest and I kid, but more often than not my experience on campus is very isolating. I’m glad for the bonds I’ve forged already with mentors, classmates and dorm hall acquaintances; with all of this said, I’m the only black person or girl in almost every room I’ve been in. This includes my residence hall, my orientation cohort, my incoming class of my major, my honors program seminar, all 5 of my professors, the literary magazine general staff, 3 out of 5 of my classes and much more. Underestimating the whiteness of my college campus and the microaggressions that are ingrained into its culture was my first mistake, one I would heed future students of color to avoid. The experience of not knowing when to speak up and create future conflicts for myself (or lay down and take it quietly with the few reassurances I do have) is nauseating. I have contacts and resources, and places to plug in when this gets really heavy, but I don’t want to downplay this discomfort. Here, an archive of my alienation will stand for the future, whether it changes or not.
I think this concludes the most pressing of my current thoughts, and luckily the process of unraveling them for this issue has aided me immensely. Until next time, I love you!