Intentions

Today, as we celebrated Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I tried to use my day to read more about Dr. King, the importance of his message and his work. I'm grateful for friends who tweeted, shared, and posted links to great articles about Dr. King.

On this MLK Monday, two of my friends organized a gathering on the Magnolia Bridge in New Orleans to "write our intentions and commitments on strips of cloth and tie them up as a public display of our interwoven commitments to resistance." In the days leading up to this, I thought about what I could write on that small piece of fabric that would propel me forward as we face a new, unknown, and very scary landscape under Trump as president.

I spoke with old friends and made new ones during today's gathering. There were common threads among us: confusion, anger, but new purpose in the weeks after the election. There was also a feeling among some -- myself included -- that some personal balance and focus was finally starting to come back into focus now.

I wrote on my strip that I commit to use my voice even when I am scared. I will use my voice as a gay man in a world that suddenly feels much, much less safe than it did a couple months ago. I will use my voice as a journalist in a world where the power structure seeks to silence my voice and impede avenues for storytelling.  

I was moved by a woman who wrote that she would not fear being imperfect. That's a great one for me as well. I cannot fear failure. I cannot fear retribution. I need to accept that I am not infallible. My own process won't be without mistakes. It never has been. And that's likely to be the case with this new venture of my site (with blog, and projects, etc.).

"Social progress never rolls in on the wheels of inevitability but comes through the tireless efforts and the persistent work of dedicated individuals."
— Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Tonight I headed to Tulane to hear my favorite New York Times columnist, Charles M. Blow. The event, presented by the Amistad Research Center, was fantastic. It gave me new drive as a journalist (and a gay man) in this new political and media landscape. When I got home, I decided to watch Ava DuVernay's 13th, which the New York Times perfectly reviewed as "powerful, infuriating, and at times overwhelming." I feel like there is more work than ever.