Them no-ass-at-all pills
this era is absurd so hang in there
When my grandfather would lean over and stand back up again, his backside went flat as a pancake. It tickled his wife, Francis, and my grandmother to no end. She’d chuckle, an inch of ash holding fast to her Virginia Slim, tap my arm, and say, “Nikki, your grandpa’s been taking them no-ass-at-all pills.” She’d cackle, slap her knee, and settle right back into her “stories.”
Grandma burned everything but fat back black as tar and when she laid the oval meat platter in the center of the table, the bacon looking like charred fruit leather, I thanked God for Sun Drop and oatmeal creme pies, the only sustenance we had at her house. Despite her propensity to burn water, I loved being there, running wild in her big back yard, chasing my cousins, buying twenty-five cent ice creams at the corner store, and going on road trips to buy lottery tickets just over the North Carolina border. Grandma is the only person I’ve met who used to drive with both feet. My childhood memory (that I need my Mama to verify) is that Rocky at the DMV–who was still alive and failed me on my first driving test–got so sick of her trying to pass her test and failing that he gave her a license just to get Francis out of his hair. It is a miracle that when she hit the brake with her left foot no one flew face-first through the t-bird’s windshield.
I thought about Grandma when Tammy1 at the NC DMV in Graham snapped a god-awful photo of me for my new real ID last week.
The Real ID’s have a hologram of your photo next to the tight square photo and yet another circle pic on the back right under a horse’s barrel belly, so I’ve got that ugly photo three times on one license and I just want to know what kind of world we are living in. What marketing team decided to put my head underneath a horse? We don’t even have horses here. We are first-in-flight, remember? We do planes here. Business. Tobacco. Medical innovation. Academic excellence. Bojangles. Black Wall Street. The ACC. The Blue Ridge Mountains. Are you telling me there were no other options than this?
Why is everything in America so absurd?
You heard the booing at the Super Bowl. Canada’s PM is out here talking about how they stormed the beaches of Normandy with us and now they hate us. Mexico’s President is using our own data and research to correct 47. There’s an unelected, unqualified tech bro in the Oval Office running around doing idiotic tech bro things; a cabinet that makes me want to bang my head against a wall; a congress that likes going viral more than they like working together for the greater good.
Except for Bernie Sanders, who will never stop doing exactly what our tax dollars pay him to do, even if it means working with Josh Hawley’s ignorant behind, because that is what Congress is supposed to do for the American people.
Bernie partnering with Hawley convicted me of what I used to believe with a sparkle in my eye – that we can work together with people who do not share our values to affect change. While I have evidence it is possible, I no longer believe in bothering with the extreme ends of the spectrum. Specifically, die-hard MAGAs, anarchist libertarians, and fundamentalist lefties.
In one of my papers for Rev. Dr. Alexia Salvatierra, a living legend and profound leader in the immigration space, I wrote about how to effectively direct energy. Some folks are not worth the time; they will not and cannot change, so spend efforts toward those who are willing to work together for collective impact. She gently challenged my thinking and encouraged me to maintain hope that all people are capable of change at any time, and if we do not work with others to foster that possibility, we cannot alter the realities that most impact vulnerable people.
A devastating truth: we cannot make change without working with people whose values we despise.
Because that is how change happens. It is not fast. And it is not pain-free. What do we think the workers rights, Civil Rights, women’s rights, farm workers movements were? A picnic? A walk in the park? No, they were hell on wheels. Nonviolent resistance and negotiations with oppressors. Check. Organizing tirelessly in the streets. Check. Teaching personal value and sharing resources in community. Check. Losing more than winning? Check. Because change takes a long time.
“How long? Not long, because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” Martin Luther King, Jr.
Today, folks think they’ve done a little something by posting on the internet or becoming a keyboard warrior in the comments sections. Back in the day, people actually had to WORK for change.
If folks have not called a single senator, given toward the cause, learned something from a credible leader, attended a training, voted locally and at the state level, or done anything tangible at all, no thanks to your hot takes. I do not want to hear one word about how much you hate *checks notes* everything. I especially do not want to hear one word about what you think red states are doing from the blue bubble.
Focus on yourself. Do your own work. Those little loud and proud moments might gain you followers on Instagram but it won’t gain you respect in the streets. As Kendrick says, “Sit down. Be humble.” Like Jesus says: “You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”
And for all of you doing the work, keep raising hell. Congress members on speed dial is necessary today because the power is still with the people. They listen when you call and show up. Use your voice online and in real life. Listen to people whom policies affect.
For the vast majority of us, justice is hyper local.
I know that feels frustrating but you will burn out and spin out if you keep raging about things that are far outside the realm of your control. The work starts in your mind. The healing starts in your body. System change starts with your chosen family, your neighbors, your church. It starts in your community, your school, your workplace (if you are in a position to foster change), in your online echo chamber. It starts in the places where you have influence, control, and power to affect change.
We are in our enemy love era. It is zero stars. 0/10 recommend.
If I didn’t follow Jesus, I’d be like smite thou mine own enemies Lord. Taketh them quietly and forcefully in the night. But instead, I’m praying for mercy. Because now is the time for hard and holy love, for joy, for rest to be our resistance.
You are not alone! You are so loved! We need you!
Ashley
Tammy’s name has been changed for obvious reasons. Also, Tammy had stories for days, telling me about a family who stole a wheelchair from a local hospital so they could get their granddad an ID to vote. The family loaded him in the car after it was all done and rolled the wheelchair right up to the DMV’s sliding glass doors and left it for Tammy’s coworker to load in his truck and take back to the hospital. But what Tammy did not care about was how I looked in my license photo. Tammy did not care that I moved back from Los Angeles where they give you a warning and a few photo snaps; nope, she made me laugh until my eyes disappeared with my chin tilted at the worst possible angle for a 44-year-old. I fixed my hair for my little trip to Graham but the crop is so tight, you can’t even see hair because Miss Tammy boxed my face into an embarrassing little square and said, “All done, sweetheart. That’ll be $52. Cash or card?” NC is wild.