Monday’s weather was perfect for a bike ride–sunny, cool enough, light breeze–and I had time to take one. I hopped on and headed downtown to see what the previous few nights of unrest might have left on the streets. I saw quickly that one thing that was left was a whole bunch of cops. I zipped down Maryland and saw a group gathered in the courtyard by University of Baltimore, and then walking in a group up Cathedral, taking a right on Chase. And then there were cop cars and vans on almost every street.Continue reading
Friday was a hard day. Alton Sterling was shot and killed by police while selling CDs outside a convenience store. Philando Castile was shot at a traffic stop, his girlfriend filming as her 4 year old child sat in the back seat. These were the latest two in a year that has already seen over 500 people shot and killed by police officers. And then shots rang out in Dallas, more people dead, more lives plunged into the heavy ocean waves of despair. Layers upon layers of loss, each one all about politics, and also about the individuals with lives cut short, the people who loved them left, after the cameras turn off, with the void of death. It’s so very permanent, and the grief will never ever fully subside. It is so, so sad, and angering, and it makes me want to melt down all the guns and freeze time until we can figure out how to uproot what Judith Butler calls schematic racism: the settled notion that all Black people are a threat and all white people need constant police protection from them. There’s a lot of other stuff we need to do, too, but that’s what was on my mind as I headed out on a bike ride on Friday.
Last Thursday’s ride took me down to the Inner Harbor to meet A. and her sweet baby girl for a tour of the Christmas Village. It was empty, which I suppose is to be expected on a Thursday afternoon. That worked for the 19 month old kiddo I was with who mostly wanted to oh-so-carefully step her way down stairs and then run up them to slowly sneak down them again. And then she wanted to run as fast as she could, which wasn’t very fast if we’re being honest, and everyone who saw her could help but smile. Continue reading
I had a bunch of meetings on Friday, so after spending the morning doing a wee bit of writing, I hopped on the bike and headed down to the west side to catch the shuttle to work. Because the police state that is Baltimore-under-curfew is confined to only certain neighborhoods, my ride downtown through Charles Village, Station North, and Mount Vernon was fairly cop-free, until I took the right and left toward Lexington Market. Continue reading
It was time to get back in the work saddle today, so I woke up early, did some reading, research, and writing, and then spent the afternoon on grading and class prep, most of which I did down in Fells Point after a blustery bike ride down the hill. I hate riding in the wind, even more than in rain. Those 25 MPH gusts feel downright scary when they poof you into traffic! But I wasn’t going to drive downtown, and I wanted to be there for Baltimore’s march against racism and for justice for Trayvon Martin, so I threw my hoodie in my bag for later (not because I am Trayvon Martin–my race privilege ensures I won’t be–but because I respect the rhetorical approach), and rode squint-eyed against the wind over to Patterson Park and then back down to Fells Point. Continue reading
Today’s ride started off under a clear blue sky with a bright sun–no more frozen precipitation for us, thank you very much. I headed over to C. and P.’s house for a baby shower–congrats, C. and R.!–and then rode down to meet up with a rally some folks organized to stand in solidarity with the people of Egypt. I spotted a crowd on Poydras and headed over with my bicycle to join them. Continue reading