The Ourstory of Now

By Therese Walsh  |  June 2, 2020  | 

Time and again over the last few years we’ve heard it, thought it, felt it: “History is being made, right now.” Meaning, the sort of history that becomes far more than a footnote in a future book on this decade. The sort of history that becomes its own library of books, not only because it is prominently newsworthy in its day but because it marks a turning point or new precedent, or its ramifications will have ramifications on ramifications. This is such a tentacled moment, and in a sea of other tentacled moments you may not know what I mean, so let me be clear: I’m speaking of the murder of George Floyd on May 25th in Minneapolis, and the element that made his death–and the deaths of countless other Black Americans–part of a much larger picture of racism in this country.

“[H]istory is written by the winners,” attorney general William Barr recently said of another subject, and an LA Times article pushed back: Writers across the board hold power in documenting the truths of their time.

My mother-in-law, with a passion for genealogy, recently did a deep dive into my family history. One of the many gems she unearthed was an opinion piece that my grandmother wrote in 1965 about “[t]he recent horrible beatings and murders in Alabama over civil rights and the basic right of every American citizen to register and vote…” I feel such pride reading her letter, and I’m so very glad that she took the time to document her thoughts, that she troubled to see her letter published, and that the press obliged. It’s history that reveals herstory. I know how she’d feel about what is going on in this country now. I know what she’d say. I think I know what she’d write.

Not everyone is comfortable with politics, and I’m not here to shame the silent. But I am here to highlight some who’ve chosen to add their voices to this moment, to help record and hopefully shape the history of now, and to show how many ways this can be done.

I’m beginning with WU contributor and friend Nancy Johnson, whose Facebook post resonates with power, and then will follow with other posts that showcase the various ways writers are using their platforms, from documenting the moment to amplifying the messages of others. In some cases, you may need to click through to read a full message, but all posts are public.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CA14bjXg3Nr/?igshid=1xx3776nobn7o

https://twitter.com/ayanaeliza/status/1266473140944875522

https://twitter.com/ChuckWendig/status/1266892374967541762

Lastly, this:

We are the voices of this moment in time. This history is ourstory. And it matters beyond our own generation–what we stand for, what we speak for, what we work for, and what we leave behind.

My grandmother’s opinion piece was written to remind people about the power of the vote, “the simple device of signing their name and pulling down levers on Election Day,” and to share both her despair that so many didn’t bother and her hope that that would change in order to make change. Back in 1965, there was no internet, no easy way to share a link to encourage people to register to vote, but I think my grandmother would be glad to see a link included here today.

Register to vote, America.

Stay safe.

Write on.

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40 Comments

  1. Barbara Linn Probst on June 2, 2020 at 8:48 am

    This is the pivot. Finally.
    I’ve felt so sick and helpless and enraged, but now I believe that no act of solidarity and humanity is too small. A million statements. A million gestures. Today. And again tomorrow. And again. Every single one of us.
    Rabbi Hillel challenged us centuries ago: “If not now, when?”
    Yes. We. Can.



  2. Tiffany Yates Martin on June 2, 2020 at 9:06 am

    I love this post. I love all these folks–everyone speaking up and speaking out. Love all these fantastic resources for standing up against racial inequality and injustice. When we know better, we can do better. Thank you for this, Therese. Thank you all for helping us learn better.



    • Therese Walsh on June 2, 2020 at 6:41 pm

      Thank you for being one of those who is speaking out, too, Tiffany.



  3. Grace on June 2, 2020 at 9:17 am

    Thank you for this I’ve been watching the organizations I belong to and wondering what, if anything, they’ll say. I have so much more to say, but will leave with these two quotes:

    “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” –MLK

    “If you’re a beneficiary of systemic racism, then you will not be able to dismantle it at no cost to yourself. You will have to put yourself at risk. It might not always result in being physically attacked, but it will require you to make yourself vulnerable.” — Dale Murphy (retired MLB player)

    We’re at a moment in history where both silence *and* speaking out will cost. The question is which price people are willing to pay.



    • Therese Walsh on June 2, 2020 at 6:44 pm

      Grace, these quotes are so important, and your friendship has been a gift. Thank you for both. We are with you. <3



  4. LJ Cohen on June 2, 2020 at 9:28 am

    Be well, my WU family. Be safe. May we all keep using our words and our actions to create a better world.



  5. Vaughn Roycroft on June 2, 2020 at 9:41 am

    Wonderful sampling, T. Brought a lump to my throat to see all of these voices in one place. I am fervently hoping it’s an inflection point–that change will come of this. And I know that real change cannot come without an element of tumult. And the discomfort that so many of the writers you highlight have referenced.

    It makes me wonder how we got here. As someone who was there when busing began in the early 70s, I can tell you: there was discomfort–and a bit of tumult–in bringing together racially mixed classrooms. I was in 5th grade when the program started in our mid-size Michigan city. The amazing thing was how quickly we, the students, worked through the initial discomfort. Fast friendships were made. Eyes were opened. Cultures were demystified. Progress was made.

    By high school, whenever an interracial conflict arose, and occasionally became physical (it was rare, but it happened), you know who was there breaking it up? Student leaders of both races, often working together, not just to bring calm, but to resolve. We all knew how important it was. We knew that the adults weren’t going to resolve it for us. Young people are amazing like that.

    How did we regress so far from that promising start? Was it greed? Fear? Old resentment? Fear and resentment leveraged for greedy ends? They’re such bullshit excuses. When folks get to adulthood without ever having experienced friendships across racial lines–when they’ve never been asked to get through that initial discomfort–it’s a missed opportunity. We all need to be willing to sacrifice, to do the work, to make sure this is indeed an inflection point. Until we truly work to really know one another, no real progress can be made. Writers can, and should, be at the forefront of the needed change.

    Thanks, T, for showing us that we’re already rolling up our sleeves to get to work as a community.



    • Therese Walsh on June 2, 2020 at 6:53 pm

      Let’s hope with all we’ve got that this time will truly make a difference. It does feel like a tipping point, which made for an interesting challenge in capturing the moment; this post could easily have been 10x the length.



  6. V.P. Chandler on June 2, 2020 at 9:45 am

    Beautiful. Thank you.



  7. Donald Maass on June 2, 2020 at 10:09 am

    Our two adopted kids are African, so needless to say we’ve had many conversations about this, now and for the last ten years.

    Being African, their early lives did not expose them to American racism. They hear from us about it but they do not understand it.

    Neither do we, needless to say. I try to image my kids with a bullet coming toward them or an officer’s knee on one of their necks. It is too easy to imagine.

    My kids are cautioned yet they are not afraid. They should be, in one way, but in another way I am glad they are not. It is long past time for us all to be like them.

    Speak out. Donate. Pressure for change, not just in police departments but in the hearts of everyone. I want my children safe. They are free in their hearts but not on the ground.



    • Jennie Nash on June 2, 2020 at 12:01 pm

      “They are free in their hearts but not on the ground.” Wow — powerful words, Donald! Thank you for sharing your family’s story.



    • Therese Walsh on June 2, 2020 at 6:57 pm

      Don, I’m glad they’re not afraid, and I hope they never are. Stay safe, and thank you.



  8. Beth Havey on June 2, 2020 at 10:12 am

    Thank you for doing this Therese. I feel a part of WU more than ever before. My heart aches. I am pulled to sorrowing and anger. I’m helpless—and then I remember that I still have power. I can write! I can speak out and confirm, echo what for years thinkers and writers, people who have suffered have eloquently Written or just called out. Racism will destroy us if we don’t acknowledge it, fight it and believe in Lincoln’s Better Angels.



    • Therese Walsh on June 2, 2020 at 7:00 pm

      Beth, I’m with you. If we all do what we CAN do, only good can come, as we’ll all grow hungrier for true change.



  9. Lisa Bodenheim on June 2, 2020 at 10:28 am

    Thank you, Therese, for pulling in all these voices and resources. I’m fortunate to have a wide spread of friends and colleagues who are witnessing what is happening in Mpls. My task is to continue the small ripples I have been doing in the struggle against racism.



  10. Keith Cronin on June 2, 2020 at 10:57 am

    Amen, amen, and amen.

    And yes, I used the Oxford comma. It was needed – like this post.

    Thank you.



  11. Yuvi on June 2, 2020 at 11:01 am

    Thanks for sharing these words and stories and resources, Therese. ❤️



  12. Christina Anne Hawthorne on June 2, 2020 at 11:49 am

    I remember when I was little trying to comprehend the civil rights movement. In my child’s mind it was absurd that it should be needed. The child I was looked at racism and couldn’t understand why something so stupid would be practiced by anyone. But it was. 1968 happened. From that day forward I monitored the vile disease even if it hid in the shadows. I saw these days coming when 2016 happened, along with the cascade of events that have followed.

    Respect for all human beings. Is that so freaking difficult to grasp? For too many, it is. I cried when Mayor Bottoms’ voice shook fearing for her son. Imagine that every day of your life. Imagine that handed down through generations. This morning I shared the following:

    The words came from a place not difficult to find,
    though they were for some.
    Her mirror held a troubled view,
    it reminded.
    Injustice remained.
    She refused to see the other reflection,
    the one seen by some.
    Mothers were everywhere,
    their heartbreak widespread,
    the mirror’s tears begging her to write more words.



    • Therese Walsh on June 2, 2020 at 7:08 pm

      Thank you for sharing your words, Christina. So many writers write to find meaning, but we’ll never find meaning behind these acts of inhumanity.



  13. Susan Setteducato on June 2, 2020 at 11:59 am

    I hope and pray that we are approaching the day when we no longer describe one another by our outer appearances but by what we find in each others’ hearts. Thank you, Therese, and everyone. This community makes me proud.



    • Therese Walsh on June 2, 2020 at 7:09 pm

      This community makes me proud, too. Thank you for being a part of it, Susan.



  14. Jennie Nash on June 2, 2020 at 12:00 pm

    Thank you for pulling all this together, Therese. It’s beautiful and powerful and necessary and vital!



  15. Ray Rhamey on June 2, 2020 at 12:24 pm

    Thank you for speaking out, Therese. This is not a time for timidity, it is a time for the passion you share with us. And we with you.



  16. Kim Bullock on June 2, 2020 at 12:31 pm

    I’m so glad you posted this, Therese, that you used the WU platform to speak out for what is right. I’m not at all surprised that you have at least one ancestor who fought for social justice.

    I have sensed my older daughter’s restlessness over the last few days. She has brought up the protests more than once. We are both empathic, especially with each other. She knows I fear for her, so she didn’t push to go. I know her heart, so I looked up protests in places other than downtown without telling her, so I could offer her more options if she wants them.

    Turned out she had already done the same, and she found one close to home. I won’t stop her. If she wants me with her, I’ll stand with her, pandemic be damned. Masks will be worn.

    Being young, white, and female would make her far safer than many, but is no guarantee that she would not be targeted for standing up. She’s watched enough videos over the last few days to know this. So have I. That fear I feel…Dede was right to point out that this is me getting one step closer to understanding the existence of black mothers the world over. (Thank you for that, Dede. Truly. I needed to hear it.)



    • Therese Walsh on June 2, 2020 at 7:10 pm

      Very proud to see so many in the community speaking up and marching. Stay safe, Kim and Sasha. <3



  17. Tom Bentley on June 2, 2020 at 12:41 pm

    Therese, I was coming of age in the late 60s and 70s, so my understanding of power structures was dim, but I knew our “law and order” president (“I’m not a crook” Nixon) was a scourge on actual justice. The terrible events of those days, the assassination of MLK, then of Bobby Kennedy, the Days of Rage at the Chicago DNC, the Kent State murders. “Law and order” were code words to suppress dissent.

    But this president and his cronies are more blatant. They still use racist dog-whistles to stimulate the base, but the latest suggestions to clear the streets by force, take no quarter, assault peaceful protests—it’s profoundly anti-democratic. I lament the destruction, the looting, the mania, but I lament more its source: systemic racism and suppression, and flat-out murder. The cure is never more violence, but it’s clear there will be more violence to come because of the craven hollowness of our administration. Our country screams.

    Thanks for giving us a forum. Resist (but dammit, stay safe).



  18. Denise Willson on June 2, 2020 at 1:41 pm

    Beautiful, T.

    I want to learn.

    Hugs to all,
    Dee



  19. Gwen Hernandez on June 2, 2020 at 2:23 pm

    Thank you for speaking up. I didn’t doubt you would, but thanks.



  20. Christina Lorenzen on June 2, 2020 at 4:14 pm

    Powerful, beautiful words.



  21. Cassandra on June 2, 2020 at 4:30 pm

    Thank you so much for speaking out, for sharing those posts. I am in so many groups that are acting as if nothing is happening. At times I feel physically sick with that.



  22. Therese Walsh on June 2, 2020 at 7:14 pm

    Thanks for all of the comments today, and for all you’re doing to help amplify this defining moment. I see you, and I’m proud to call you my friends.



  23. Cathee St. Clair on June 2, 2020 at 9:01 pm

    Thank you, Therese, for what you’ve done here. I’ve been struggling to find words until just now. All the racial killings that have taken place in my lifetime underscore the cruelty of our country’s leaders since the genocide of the First People and the boatloads of African innocents they brought here to serve them.
    My political awareness came alive when John F. Kennedy was assassinated. I was ten. I learned about Malcolm X at 15, from an exchange with an inner city church in Oakland. I was 17 when Martin Luther King was assassinated. During senior finals, Robert Kennedy’s assassination dissolved any illusion I had about justice in America.
    Murders of prominent people are called assassinations. Murders of everyone else are called a myriad of things; the most derogatory are reserved for victims of color.
    I naively believed the 60s and 70s were a tipping point for America. That we’d learn to be more kind and compassionate toward each other despite the color of our skin, our political and religious ideologies, or our upbringings and status in society. It’s crucial for me to face the truth about being white in a privileged white world. In these heartbreaking times that have lasted since my ancestors came to this land in the 1600s, I’m convinced this is what I’m here to learn. Posts like yours are helping me in this quest.



    • Cathee St. Clair on June 2, 2020 at 9:19 pm

      I realize I was 13, not 10, in 1963. Math is another thing I need to learn.



  24. Marta on June 2, 2020 at 10:01 pm

    I really want white allies to be in this for the long haul and keep doing the work when the news cycle moves on. Thanks for using your platform for these voices.



  25. R. E. (Ruth) Donald on June 3, 2020 at 12:02 am

    Thank you, Therese. I’ve had trouble tearing myself away from American news — not just the past 8 days, to be honest, but since the Republicans selected an immoral, unfit man to run for president. I had a sense of these years being an historic time, and not a good one.

    I happened to start reading “Black Like Me” just before George Floyd’s murder, so racial injustice was already on my mind. Both the book and the events of this week have had me really think about how it feels to be a victim of prejudice and persecution just because of how you look. It has frequently had me in tears.

    Growing up in Vancouver, BC — I’m the same age as Cathee, but better at math!) there were not many blacks that I knew personally, but in the hippie era, LOVE was a thing we imagined belonged to every body. That was so naïve. Here in Canada, our indigenous people and other non-whites are still often subject to racism. I wish it weren’t so and I hope it will change.

    I am encouraged by the fact that so many more people are now speaking out and taking a stand against it. Sadly, there are so many others who seem stuck in tribal and barbaric hate against “the other” for no good reason, other than fear of change. As a student of linguistics, I’ve been aware that change is a constant, whether it be language or a population’s ethnic makeup, technology or social mores. I like to think we’re headed in the right direction, but times like this make it hard to remain optimistic.

    I fervently wish the best for all my American brothers and sisters. I hope America will soon weather this storm and once again become the shining city on the hill.



  26. Carol Cronin on June 3, 2020 at 8:21 am

    This post would be powerful enough with just the quotes from recent events, but starting with the letter from your grandmother reminds us all that this is anything but new. I really hope we can learn to listen better, to truly understand other perspectives. As writers we are uniquely qualified to do so, but I still feel completely unqualified.



  27. Jan O'Hara on June 3, 2020 at 9:47 pm

    Thank you for lifting up important voices, T, including your grandmother’s.

    I am hopeful we’ll grow as a species, do better by one another. The #MeToo movement ushered in conversations and convictions I never thought to see in my lifetime. May the same be true of the present moment. We have a collective opportunity and responsibility to choose a better path forward and I vow to do my best to be part of it.



  28. Kristan Hoffman on June 5, 2020 at 4:08 pm

    What a compilation. Thank you, Therese.



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