Rebecca Solnit and Journalism, Ducklings, Wisteria, and Struggling with Grief

Me and brother Mike at Rebecca Solnit Town Hall

Rebecca Solnit and Thoughts on Journalism

My brother and I went to see Rebecca Solnit at a very crowded Town Hall here in Seattle, and the talk was great (though she’s very smart, she had a very soporific voice—not how I thought she would sound)! It’s rare that Mike and I get to spend time together, much less with an author we both admire, so it was a good outing.

Since there were several thousand people there, few of them masked, I wore a KN95 all through so Mike and I snuck out a few minutes before the end of Q&A (those masks—urgh). We bought our books and had some good catch-up talk—and then I also had the good luck to see briefly former Utah Poet Laureate and author Paisley Rekdal, whose new book on teaching poetry is fantastic.

Me and Paisley Rekdal after Rebecca Solnit

One thing that stayed with me from the talk was an answer Rebecca gave to a question from the audience about what media sources to trust. She mentioned several major papers that reported 122 times on negative stories about Biden during Trump’s first hundred days, during which he disregarded the rights of citizens, the Constitution, and accepted bribes. These places included The New Yorker, the Atlantic, the New York Times, the LA Times—not the usual suspects we think of as biased journalism. But after she said it, I couldn’t stop seeing it, especially after I saw four stories in one day (before Joe Biden’s cancer was disclosed) where the headline was “Biden was ALMOST in a wheelchair” which I found really offensive. because you know what? We are ALL almost in a wheelchair, as someone who was in one myself for close to six years straight. “Almost in a wheelchair” is NOT a story. Why not report on the current President and his ruining of the economy, or deporting infants with cancer without their medication (surely dangerous criminals in the making, right?) or any manner of terrible things from the current White House? The answer might be made clear in John Oliver’s discussing this evening of Trump’s very politicized FCC and his lawsuits against large media companies—two ways to silence journalism at its core. Very sobering for this former journalist. Anyway, once you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it. (As a side note, Rebecca recommended Rolling Stone, Wired, and the Guardian.)

Duckling Season, and Dealing with Grief

Duckling and wary mom

Spring continues with its springing, and I saw my first duckling of the season (with wary mom nearby). I also saw my first black-headed grosbeak, who visits faithfully each May.

I have had a heavy heart this week with the loss of my friend Martha Silano (I found another picture of her from 2023, at my reading at Open Books—see how she radiates joy?) It is always hard to lose friends, peers, and members of our local community, but this has hit me harder than I expected. It comes on the heels of losing my college roommate, Tara, who was such an amazing force, scientist, and friend. So senseless.

My friend Roz, me, and Martha in May 2023 at Open Books

It occurs to me I don’t really have enough coping mechanisms for grief. I did the things that usually cheer me up—thought the weather has been miserable, cold, and rainy for this time of year, spending time outdoors when I can, going to bookstores, watching lightweight subject matter. One day I spent the entire day in bed with the TV on one station, and again I noticed the repetitiveness and lack of clarity in the local news, and almost all the programming, actually. This is pretty unlike me unless I have the flu or my MS is acting up. I’ve been trying to write about Martha as well as reading through an early version of her last book, Terminal Surreal, due out in September. I was moved by how she wrote about her circumstances with precision and a lack of self-pity and a continued joy in the nature and the outdoors.

As seems appropriate, with its teardrop flowers, the wisteria is in bloom, so we went to the Seattle Japanese Garden (who doesn’t feel at least a little better there?) and smelled the wisteria and observed the koi and water lilies, turtles, and I also got to follow the end of a tea ceremony. The rituals of the season—the rain, the blooms, the ducklings—reminds me that the world continues turning when our loved ones die, and when we die, it will continue then, too. Our small contributions—planting a tree, feeding pollinators, or writing a poem—can seem small indeed, but maybe better than the alternative—causing great destruction, which is far too easy to do.