Baking Too Much Bread
(warning - comments on current events ahead. Proceed at your own risk.)
On Sunday, I made bread. And bagels. And banana muffins.
And then attended an online memorial service for my cousins’ dad.
Meanwhile, protests broke out, cops arrested black reporters on live television, and the president of the United States encouraged violence as a response.
I feel like we’re living in a twilight zone. Not because of the systemic racism that’s finally being filmed and given the light of day; not because of the all-too-understandable overflow of emotion that’s coming out in mostly peaceful, sometimes ugly ways. The hiding-in-the-shadows edges of life that are on center stage come from the White House, where the man who’s supposed to be leading us toward calm and resolution is instead whipping the frenzy, tweeting his way to chaos like a Joker from Batman comics.
When a friend came over the other day to drop off eggs and take some excess citrus off my hands, we talked about the immense privilege we have to not live our lives in fear all the time, just because of the color of our skin. When our kids go off driving, we worry only in the “will my kid get into an accident” way, not the “I hope someone doesn’t mistake my kid for a criminal and kill them” way. We never had to teach our children to keep registration and ID tucked into the sun visor so that there would be no need to reach into a glove compartment; someone might think they were reaching for a gun, after all. We can go for a walk in our neighborhood, have a picnic in the park, never thinking about being in danger from the very people sworn to protect us.
Shaun T, a celebrity trainer and the creator of programs like Insanity and T-25, is driving from Phoenix to Seattle with his husband, 2 toddlers, and his in-laws. Shaun is black; his husband, Scott, is white. Their kids are black. Scott’s parents? White. Shaun has written a poignant post about the fears he has while driving. How it’s good the kids are with them, since then he’s less threatening. How it’s good the kids are black, otherwise he might be suspected of kidnapping them. How it’s good the Blokkers are white, since that buys him legitimacy. How relieved he felt when his turn driving was over, because he wasn’t in the front anymore. Less visible.
And all I worry about when I’m driving is whether the bathrooms will be decent when I need to stop for gas.
So yes, I baked too much bread on Sunday. It was something I could control, an abundance I could create. And when I wept at the memorial service, it was for more than my cousins’ dad.
