A Month of Nourishment
Reading, Watching, & Musing in July
Hello friends!
July has been a month of, as the title suggests, slow and steady nourishment. I haven’t read much, haven’t written much, and truthfully, haven’t watched much (besides sports.) I have, however, made two batches of pickles, gone to the farmer’s market, supported my city’s new indie bookstore, and spent many hours lazing on the couch with my dog. I am trying, for the first time in a while, to be really, intentionally kind to myself. It’s both a relief and an opportunity I’m deeply grateful for, and it’s one I wish for you too.
So, let’s catch up!
CURRENTLY READING
Disability Intimacy edited by Alice Wong
I am halfway through this essay collection and feeling all of the same feelings I do each time I have the pleasure of consuming something that Alice has touched. Reading Disability Visibility was formative and life altering, reaching me in a moment when I felt anything but proud or comfortable with the label ‘disabled.’ Years later, this new collection is like a hug from a friend or a blanket on a cold night.
“I am but one small shiitake mushroom connected to a vast mycelial network with other disabled fungi, loving and caring for one another. We are not alone.” - Alice Wong
Greta & Valdin by Rebecca K. Reilly
When I open this queer novel following two siblings in New Zealand, I enjoy my reading experience. When I close it, I quickly forget about it, sometimes not picking it up again for several days. I appreciate the dynamics of a messy, queer brother and sister duo, and this is the first book I’ve read with a Māori perspective, but ultimately, I fear that the details will not linger with me once I finish - aside from the beautiful cover.
Bless the Blood: A Cancer Memoir by Walela Nehanda
Written by a Black nonbinary cancer survivor, Bless the Blood is meant to be slowly taken in, word by word. Memoirs in verse can sometimes feel like a race to the finish line for me, because I know that I should be able to breeze through them with ease, but this one is different. I want to honor Nehanda’s words and experience, as they discuss intimately the medical racism and ableism they faced after receiving a diagnosis of advanced stage blood cancer.
“I’m a vending machine for pity. Throw me a silver dollar and watch how I have to exploit my own sadness. This is what keeps a roof over our heads: people dropping change or checks as I virtually hitchhike the internet.” - Walela Nehanda
RECENTLY READ
Coming Home by Brittney Griner
I knew the vague contours of BG’s story - a queer Black WNBA player, a woman wrongfully detained in Russia - but my knowledge didn’t go much further than that. This memoir, which I couldn’t stop listening to, was heart achingly vulnerable, sometimes intensely harrowing, and ultimately a powerful reclamation of what she has lived through. The audio narration was fantastic - so much so that I couldn’t bear to listen to it at the normal 2x speed that I gravitate towards - and though there was some language that I had qualms with (such as the use of ‘crackhead’ and ‘handicap’) I was left feeling so moved by Griner’s willingness to share. If I wasn’t already planning to cheer on the US Women’s Basketball Team (and BG) in the Olympics this month, I sure as hell would be now.
They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us by Hanif Abdurraqib
Hanif Abdurraqib is my favorite writer. I can say that with utmost certainty after reading only two of his books, for reasons that I cannot entirely name. I gravitate, often, towards Midwestern writers and poets who walk the line of tenderness without ever stepping foot into saccharine. Hanif’s writing is warm yet visceral, and it feels like looking through rose colored glasses without ever straying away from a pointedly honest portrayal of society, art, and his experiences. While listening to this essay collection on music (and so much more) I cried in public more than I’d like to admit. My mask sopped up my tears while on a flight home from New York. I ducked behind shelves at work to hastily wipe the beginning droplets away while on the clock. If there is one writer that I can convince you to read, I hope that it is him. Reading his words is truly a privilege.
“Staying is not always a choice, and I have lived and lost enough to know that. But the way I think about grief is that it is the great tug-of-war, and sometimes the flag is on the side you don’t want it to be on. And sometimes, the game has exhausted all of its joy, and all that’s left is you on your knees. But, today, even though I am sad, my hands are still on the rope.” - Hanif Abdurraqib
CURRENTLY LISTENING
American Hero / Towa Bird: a pitch perfect debut album that hits all of the notes I’m looking for in an indie pop/ rock album
Jockular: a queer sports podcast hosted by E.R. Fightmaster, Tien Tran, and Katie Kershaw that never fails to make me giggle
The Women’s Game: a soccer podcast hosted by Sam Mewis, Lynn Williams, and Becky Sauerbrunn that makes me cry, laugh, and fall deeper in love with the game
(+ the usual earworms: Noah Kahan, Chappell Roan, Megan Thee Stallion, Jensen McRae)
CURRENTLY WATCHING: OLYMPICS EDITION
You didn’t think I’d write a July newsletter without spotlighting the summer Olympics, did you? Here are some of my brief thoughts for the short period of time in which I am not actively hating everything about America.
The U.S. Women’s Soccer Team: Expectations are, and always have been, tremendously high for the USWNT. These athletes are held to a higher standard than, I believe, any other American sports team - perhaps any other team internationally. After a disappointing World Cup performance last summer, the installment of a new head coach in Emma Hayes, and the selection of a young roster lacking veteran staples like Alex Morgan (a selection I, for what it’s worth, agree with) this team is expected to come home with a medal. Historically, the U.S. has won 57% (4 out of 7) of the gold medals for women’s soccer, which only became an Olympic event in 1996. Personally, I yearn for a day when this team can be celebrated for their historic success and appreciated for their growing years, which are bound to include losses, triumphs, and (hopefully) plenty of TikToks. This roster is full of joy, and our entire front line is comprised of brilliantly skilled Black women - let’s celebrate that, yeah?
Note: Since writing this paragraph, the USWNT has won their opening group match against Zambia 3-0, with goals coming from Trinity Rodman and Mal Swanson. I love watching this team win!
Queer and Trans Athletes: Nikki Hiltz is a 4x National Champion, American record holding, nonbinary track athlete, and I cannot WAIT to watch them run. Sha’Carri Richardson is another iconic track athlete who is queer (this is a new fact for me!) and the fastest woman in the world. Quinn is a nonbinary midfielder on Canada’s National Soccer Team. The U.S. Women’s Basketball Team has plenty of iconic lesbians like BG, Breanna Stewart, and Diana Taurasi (who is competing for her SIXTH gold medal - a new record.) According to NBC, there are at least 144 out LGBTQ+ athletes in the Olympics - with soccer being the queerest category of them all - and, while I can’t list them all, I’d encourage you to check them out and cheer them on.
GOATs: the epic return of Simone Biles, Marta’s last Olympics with Brazil, Coco Gauff being the youngest opening ceremony flag bearer in U.S. history, Katie Ledecky being Katie Ledecky, etc. etc.
Genocide should be a disqualifier: Israel should not be allowed to compete. The Olympics, while being something that can bring joy and a (largely false) sense of unity, should not be platforming an apartheid state. Free Palestine.
I’ll end my Olympics thoughts here for now. My essay this month is a meditation on being a queer, disabled sports fan - an experience riddled with and shaped by homophobic and transphobic athletes on my favorite teams, the ever-present discussion of injuries in AFAB athletes and the lack of resources devoted to resolving them, pointless and harmful gender divides, and more. Coming soon!
ON DISABILITY PRIDE MONTH
July, like all of the months before it, has slipped through my fingers faster than I had hoped it would. I often have grand dreams of the things that I will accomplish in June and July, these coinciding pride months. Rarely do I ever get around to creating that content or reading those books on my TBR or watching the documentaries everyone says I should have watched by now. Instead, these months often look like all the others: I work, I pay my bills, I try not to forget to take my medications, I hastily write and publish newsletters at the end of the month, and I do my best to squeeze in bits of joy where I can.
This month, my Disability Pride was not centered around advocacy or education but around nourishment. I started my yoga practice again, albeit haltingly. I made pickles and ate them and tweaked the recipe then made more. I started cooking, with more frequency and fun. I advocated for myself in my relationships, and I started to rediscover my self worth. I spent a lot of time on the couch. A Disability Pride month that was spent learning ways to thrive rather than just survive is, perhaps, the best way I could have spent it.
After all, I’m loud about ableism and accessibility every month of the year.
COMING SOON FROM ME
July’s Substack Essay: Unrequited Love: Being a Queer, Disabled Sports Fan
The Loudest Silence Virtual Tour: Instagram Live with debut author (and friend) Sydney Langford, discussing their YA novel! August 9th at 5:00 CST
Probably some chaos on Instagram, assuming I don’t delete the app and disappear again :)