“What are you doing?” I hadn’t seen him in a long time. Or texted. Or even looked at his Instagram. So after a hug and an excited exchange of children’s photos, came the inevitable question of work-status.
“I’m doing BARB,” I said to him.
“No, but what are you DOING?”
I understood his skepticism. That blogging wasn’t the path to monetary greatness. That it wasn’t a heralding of future greatness. That is simply wasn’t greatness, it was blogging. Being part of online community—blogging, as it were—is not a credible source of activity. It’s discounted. As if to say, your thoughts-on-display have no value, not really. That there is no obvious payoff suggests lack-of.
And yet. Doing BARB has saved my life. My sanity. My confidence. It’s restored my ability to write regularly. It’s given me a lifeline. It’s allowed me to connect to anger, justice, joy. Politics too. It’s opened me up to women again, to my lens, to the bits of me long dormant and necessarily replaced by the urgency of raising and living with others. And all of these things, while they may not translate to economic power, is the basis of my empowerment, my drive, my being. And that has no price tag.
Letitia Jones: “There’s a statistic that says at least six or seven individuals have to ask a woman whether she would consider running for office before she’ll say yes.”
The midterm election is upon us and if ever there was a time that the phrase “I believe the children are our future” applies, it is now.
Phillip & Elizabeth or Phillip & Elizabeth?
Tips on your search for a new mattress.
If you still get your periods, maybe this party is for you.
I hope you’re watching Michelle Wolf’s The Break on Netflix.
And now have a laugh with Leslie Jones.