Author: like black butterflies

The relevance of reading, or why this shouldn’t come as a surprise

In light of the trending “Alternative Facts” presented by the Trump kool-aid drinkers, and the accompanying societal disbelief expressed on social media, I thought this paragraph I was reading for my own studies was particularly relevant: …when people define situations as real, they are real. We shall try to remember throughout our inquiry that material facts in large measure are the product of what people think, feel, and believe. The actual conditions, as they are, indicate from this point of view the great disparities between the whites’ and the Negroes’ aspirations and realizations. –Gunnar Myrdal, from An American Dilemma, Vol. 1: The Negro Problem and Modern Democracy Those disparities in aspirations and realizations between white and black people could just as easily be applied to disparities between any privileged group in this country and their relevant subject of oppression. Also: Trying to defend their behavior to others, and primarily to themselves, people will attempt to conceal the conflict between their different valuations of what is desirable and undesirable, right or wrong, by keeping away some valuations from …

When life give you lemons…make curd…and then make a pie

A fellow dancer brought two large boxes of citrus to one of our last rehearsals of 2016: meyer lemons and oranges. I’m not a huge citrus fan; my husband on the other hand will eat 2-3 oranges at a time, and since he was sick at the time, I loaded my bag with oranges. I also have a fascination with meyer lemons, and I like the idea of cooking with them, especially making lemon curd or lemoncello. I’ll see pictures on pinterest and think, ‘Ooh, I should try this,’ but once I buy them I chicken out on trying do anything fancy with them, telling myself I just don’t have the time. I figured since I had such a long winter break, I should get over myself and try to make something. So I grabbed a ton of meyer lemons thinking that lemon curd must require a large number of lemons, feeling encouraged by that thought as several other dancers assumed the same. A week later, and traveling to my parents’ house with the citrus, I …

Fun with Squash

Tis the season for all things squash and gourd-like, namely it’s pumpkin season, or rather, it’s pumpkin-spice flavored season. I typically rail against the flood of pumpkin flavored things this time of year because there’s literally zero pumpkin in the majority of the things marketed, and most of it is supremely over processed. However, I usually do go and buy a pumpkin, bake it, and make some type of pumpkin dessert. And by the way when I say dessert I’m NOT talking about pumpkin pie; I’m pretty strictly anti-pumpkin pie given how close it comes to tasting like sweet potato pie without quite making it. This year I doubled down on the squash family: I bought a sugar pumpkin and then I saw a strange looking squash on sale and decided to buy it–a buttercup squash. The past few years I’ve made flan with the pumpkin puree I baked, but this year I didn’t feel like putting in that much effort or eating so much dairy. So this year, upon scouring recipes for the buttercup squash, since I’ve …

Remember Me?

Today a professor I’ve taken three graduate school courses with, who was my advisor for a year, and whose research I worked on for a bit, didn’t see me as I waved at him from down the hall, as I made not one but two verbal attempts to say ‘hello’ and congratulate him on his upcoming retirement, well within his visual range and earshot. The classmate I was walking with, who witnessed the snub/oversight/whatever, remarked at how fucked up that was. Two of the three classes I took with him had no more than ten people in them. I was the only black girl in all three. I even won an in-class competition on who could clean a data set the best (nerdy, I know); I was the dark horse in the class, literally and figuratively. I guess I should’ve known better. That a professor who discouraged me from even registering for the first class I took with him on the presumption of my lack of ability to do advanced data analysis, could forget me just as quickly as he …