WALT WHITMAN

Resist much, obey little’.

Recently, I dug up my old copy of Leaves of Grass. It joined a hefty pile: Dickinson, Anne Carson, Jane Jacobs, Mary Oliver, and Elizabeth Smart, as I prepped for an upcoming project. I knew I’d find what I was looking for with the women, but it was a pleasurable surprise to be reminded of Whitman’s ability to totally and completely get it.

Resistance and disobedience have been pretty front brain this year. It’s not a new thing for me, but it’s certainly pulled into focus, for all of us. As a brown skinned mother of a black daughter, Black Lives Mattering isn’t a hashtag or an instagram post in our house. It’s a daily conversation. A constant examination of how we live our lives and what we do to actively support the struggle. Recognizing that, even though, as women of otherness, we’re in it, we do enjoy privileges too. And knowing that there are sacrifices in our comfortable lives that have to be made. Walking a few steps behind my beautiful, smart, strong willed daughter at protest marches, because I know this is her lead to take. Looking deep into my peace loving heart, and taking just a sec before I speak out against looting and rioting, because even though I do know what racism smells like, my lived experience doesn’t include losing my kid to racially motivated police brutality, and if I was that mother, I’d want to break shit too. Kimberly Jones is about as eloquent as it gets on that one.

And also. The other incredibly beautiful things that this crazy year has brought. My girl turned 16. She’s just plain amazeballs - in every way. 5 years ago, I never would have believed that we’d be talking about far away universities and boys and skateboarding, but here we are. Ironically, COVID 19 brought my community closer together. Lot’s of laughter, saying I Love You more often, and supporting each other. My bees on the roof of The Cultch gave us 50lbs of dreamy amber honey to share around, not to mention the medicinal herbs in the apiary garden that are infusing in a row of mason jars on my window sill for healing beeswax balms. My little urban micro-farm fed all of us well. I’m learning more every season, and getting better at it for the long game plan. Still harvesting late season kale, squash and zucchini - and a bumper crop of tomatillos for extra jars of salsa verde… I’ll get my garlic in soon, and layer up the plots so my soil is nice n’ juicy for spring transplants.

And making art. Coming back slowly but surely after the year’s dearth: A gorgeous film, Send the Rain (Boldly Films), written and directed by the outstanding Hayley Gray. Back on Family Law (Global TV). Directing The Doll’s House Project for Studio 58 - a wild and wooly experience creating a 9 person ensemble show in COVID times - my huge gratitude to the actors and my creative team. Narrating Robert McFarlane’s poetry from The Lost Words with The Electra Women’s Choir, new dates TBA. The Only Reason I Got George, in development with James Fagan Tait & Noam Gagnon. Plus a few other things coming down the road.

And other artists who are inspiring me big time: Kent Monkman’s Shame and Prejudice at The Museum of Anthroplogy. Snotty Nose Rez Kids double album Trapline. Just about anything Wade Davis writes. The sourdough pizzas at Ubuntu Canteen. My painter pal Jay Senetchko’s new illustrated book Fishes and Wishes. Electric Company Theatre’s Reframed, part of The National Arts Centre’s Grand Acts of Theatre initiative.

Resisting and disobeying. Harvesting and creating. Laughing, loving and supporting.