A Confederacy of Dunces

One of my favorite and often read psychoanalytic articles starts with this line, “Reminiscences of learning by identification and from precepts: A glimpse into the fold between private pain and psychologically charged external fields of reference”. The author, Dr. Maurice Apprey, then takes the reader on a few journeys encompassing the personal/professional, internal/external dialogue, childhood/adulthood memories and ways of being. The voyage he takes the reader on is filled with various affects from the narrator and states of being through an interpersonal lens; all masterfully woven into his mode of storytelling. It’s an easy read exempt of obtrusive jargon and takes just under 20minutes to mentally ingest. The highlight, or rather bright light of the paper that has put this in my top 5 reading materials has to do with Apprey’s gorgeous stylistic way of writing and the naming of his de-idealization of white people from childhood. I felt so deeply connected to what the Ghanian born man expressed, though nothing (that I can remember) in my past resembles his concrete experience. So what does ‘A Glimpse into the Fold’ have to do with this Pulitzer Prize novel, ‘A Confederacy of Dunces’? Not much, but the first line “reminiscences of learning by identification and from precepts” resonated as my professional self could not help but feel a deep sadness for the novels main character Ignatius. What a disastrously unlikeable character.

This was by far the most absurd book I have read in my life. I imagine myself living well into my 80’s *knock on wood*, so it doesn’t say much that I have just come across this fictional piece. In fact, I found myself astonished as I asked friends and colleagues if they’ve heard of this novel before and kept coming across confident “yes” replies. So I dove in, head first rapidly shifting through the pages. I laughed out loud a few times, then found myself exclaiming “what did he just say?!” a couple of times until finally I decided to take in the novel in its entirety a second time around via audiobook. I highly recommend listening to this novel if you have the opportunity, again it’s absolutely absurd, and funny (depending on your sense of humor). A bit of an asterisks to that. My partner listened to this with me via audiobook and was entirely lost and at times put off by the language and attitudes of the characters, she found none of it funny lol. Content warning…. the N word is thrown around a bit within the text. The racial aspects of the times, as this book was written in the 1960’s, accurately depicts the sentiments of [most] southern whites towards Blacks for that era in US history along with the sentiments of [most] cis-heterosexuals towards the gay community. Kudos to the author for not straying away from reality too much, and integrating in racism and homophobia.

It’s the absurdity of the racism and homophobia in this novel that truly set John Kennedy Toole up for grande recognition along with the religious symbolism that was sprinkled in. Queerness ran rampant within the text in such a manner that the reader can opt towards laughter or bewilderment….. possibly both. I found myself struck that the books synopsis reads as:

“Reilly, is an educated but slothful 30-year-old man living with his mother in the Uptown neighborhood of early-1960s New Orleans who, in his quest for employment, has various adventures with colorful French Quarter characters”

Envisioning myself as the synopsis writer for this novel, I’m in front of my mother’s old typewriter, dust is in the air swirling around as I stare out the living room bay window, typing away like the meme’s of cats typing on a laptop in a frenzy:

“30 year old Ignatius, a working class cis-white male in New Orleans is forced to re-enter the symbolic and manifest master-slave workforce dynamic against his will, as the subjugated. His unresolved Oedipus ties to his mother serves as the catalyst to his sloth-like lifestyle in this fictional novel written in the 1960’s by a working class cis-white male from New Orleans who completed suicide before the novel was published”

So here we have this cis-white male, working class roots, writing about a cis-white male, working class roots (it’s implied that he’s straight) and the debacle that manifests from him having to engage in earning income, towards ensuring (in a very hyperbolic manner) that his mother does not get arrested for an unpaid debt. What I imagine Toole was grappling with through the lens of identification with his main character is the desire to stay inside the womb (and write), uninterrupted. Writing, I would like to explicitly highlight, is a form of “working” and so Ignatius was in fact working, just not in the capitalistic matrix of master-slave dynamics that continue to be re-enacted globally. You must engage in the workforce to earn a living to live a respectable life. Respectable here deriving its meaning not from core values but rather the physical material of shelter, food, clothing and the strive towards partnership so that one can procreate towards continuing the human race, or towards not having to take on the full brunt of caring for self. I may be reducing things a bit bleakly. What are we to make of those who refuse to work but have not fallen to the depths of homelessness? Or those who prefer to “stay in the womb” where most things are taken care of for them. Is it considered working if it does not produce a tangible outcome of monetized art or compensation? These are things to be considered. Let me get back to the task at hand in orating my thoughts about the prize winning novel.

Ignatius took the preference towards not competing in the world externally, as he was already the Oedipal victor internally, and a modern day incel. The novel allows us into the fold of an overweened momma’s boy, whom is easy to despise or laugh at. This is where my mind really starts questioning precepts. The US was “built” on the labor of indentured servants and slaves, and quickly ante’d up its devotion to free labor. What is to be assumed about today’s work force and the dissociation from master-slave dynamics? What became of slaves who did not work?! I believe they were killed or sold. I won’t expand on my thoughts about this here but the collective unconscious and our societal views on non-income earning individuals and their lack of place in society is worth heightened curiosity. Without having to pair this system against/to communism I would love to highlight that there will inevitably be people in our society who will not engage in the workplace regardless of gender, race, religion, ethnicity, sexual orientation, able-ness, education or age. Almost by principle they will not work in any system that mimics the original master-slave dynamic that this country is rooted in and continues to enact, while there are MASSES of people who do not question anything that I have just mentioned above, through the lens of unconscious fear of homelessness and destitution.

There is a phenomenal dialogue between Ignatius and Jones in Chapter 11 that I would love to untangle with another brain, just magnificent concerning the level of envy and projection. I needed dark humor and that is exactly what I found in this text.

  • I newfound hobby of mine is pairing novels with movies, and a great accompaniment to this piece of literature would be the cult classic "Hedwig and the Angry Inch”. Same level of dark humor, absurdity & entertainment, but devoid [kinda] of the racial and religious undertones. Working on the synopsis as we speak

Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom

May this optimistic, radical, open-minded woman of our era Rest In Peace. If you have never laid hands or eyes on literature authored by bell hooks (lowercase purposefully) aka Gloria Jean Watkins then please add to your bookshelf immediately. ‘All About Love’ is her popular publication….. so of course I shall go against the grain by making space for another one of her pieces, ‘Teaching to Transgress’. In an amalgamation of essays hooks pulls, wifts around, slams, mingles, softens, and plays with concepts of pedagogy inspired by the likes of Freire and Fanon. It’s inspiring, certain chapters (like Eros) gets really far out there concerning her ideas and expression but overall there’s not much to dislike about hook’s inventive perspective concerning teaching. Allow me to cut and paste a mindful review/critique of the book straight from Goodreads (yes I am literally taking what someone else said, which deeply resonated with my own thoughts, and publishing it here). Citation kudos to '“E” the librarian/Professor from Tennessee:

"When we, as educators, allow our pedagogy to be radically changed by our recognition of a multicultural world, we can give students the education they desire and deserve. We can teach in ways that transform consciousness, creating a climate of free expression that is the essence of a truly liberatory liberal arts education."

Each essay in this collection examines ways teachers must transgress within the classroom--ultimately, how to transgress normative professorial behaviors, such as lecturing without discussion or having discussion that avoids class/gender/racial/language differences. hooks argues for a feminist classroom that questions basic assumptions of pedagogy. For instance, the study of 'whiteness,' sharing confessional narratives and connecting content to personal experience, respecting individual voices. It is more a theoretical book than a practical one--by that I mean it concerns the ideology of teaching rather than discussing specific ways to implement transgressive teaching. Because of that, I think it would make a great companion piece to a workshop or class on pedagogy, so that there could be a discussion of the principles she outlines, and then a discussion of how to implement those ideas in the classroom.

I agree with much she has to say. My first semester teaching, I emulated the lecturing professor hook critiques, and I found by the end of the semester I hated that way of teaching. The students were bored, only a very few were learning anything, and I enjoy teaching more when the students are as involved in the class as I am. I also hated speaking for 50 minutes straight. So the next semester I changed my methodology, and every semester I try to improve upon it to make my classrooms more engaged (my reason for reading this over the summer), and every semester I get better.

Part of the way I've improved is by including more personal experiences, and connecting content to the students, which she also suggests. I've also limited my authority in the classroom, and allowed the students to feel more at ease in my class. Much of this is done by learning student names within the first week, speaking to the students before, during, and after class, learning about them as individuals. Ways I plan to improve after reading this is to be more confrontational with discussion. I also need to be more flexible, which is terribly difficult for me. I've never been good at improv.

I do think her arguments could be updated, and there were some areas I took slightly different views on. hooks fails to take into account learning differences. Some students thrive on constant discussion of personal experiences, or constant discussions in general, but some also shut down, or require more time to process. My favorite classes in undergrad were my lecture classes, because I learn and think best on my own. So after receiving a bulk of info, I could process it over several week's time, and my engagement would then be shown through written responses versus discussion. I rarely spoke in class. What I've found as a teacher is that some students thrive on active discussion, most on some discussion and some processing, and a smaller number on active listening. And I do think there's such a thing as an active listener. And that's great. Sometimes it's difficult to get them to speak in class, but when they finally do, they have some wonderful things to say!

Mainly, I think the text could be updated in terms of how she views the academic world. In several chapters she discusses what it means to be a professor and how professors relate to one another and to their students. For instance, she discusses the need to take sabbaticals, how professors come from upper classes, etc. But in the academic world now, she is speaking from a place of privilege. In one section, she states "I encounter fewer and fewer academics from working-class backgrounds" and goes on to describe how that affects class relations with students. However, class dynamics have changed among professors from 1994 to 2016 (it’s now 2021). I'm an adjunct. At the school I teach at, there's almost as many adjuncts as there are full-time professors. I know of English departments made up of only a few full-time professors--the rest are adjuncts. What that means is that many professors now, if not most, are working for minimum wage, or a little more. That changes some of her arguments concerning class dynamics, because being an adjunct professor is a working class profession. Most of my students come from wealthier backgrounds. Adjuncts don't get to consider sabbaticals, and often we don't get to pick the class material or class goals. This doesn't mean adjuncts can't be transgressive teachers, it just means it has to be done in different ways. In less fair ways.

I'm also not sure how helpful this text would be to the professors she denounces, those who "lacked basic communication skills, they were not self-actualized, and they often used the classroom to enact rituals of control that were about domination and the unjust exercise of power." The book makes a great argument for critical pedagogy, but it doesn't actually explain how this is done for those professors who lack communication skills. That's why I think it's important for this to be a companion piece to a discussion of critical pedagogy with other professors. I also think it would be a great idea for professors to sit in on other professor's classrooms. This is required for education majors, yet most professors have never analyzed another person's teaching style.

Overall, an excellent discussion, that certainly got my mind revved up for the fall semester!”

It takes gall to put oneself out there, to put one’s ideas out there. E highlighting the importance of considering different styles of learning deserves to take center stage in the critique. I found myself recalling classroom experiences as a student while an undergrad at Syracuse University. My Intro to Social Work class taught by Bette Thoreck during my second semester, freshman year, will forever stay with me as one of the most positive learning experiences. She was not one of those Professors who invited students to stay in touch, or overextended herself concerning availability to talk before or after class; I don’t even think she had office hours or engaged in email communication lol. Yet she was consistent in all aspects of consistency. What was written on the syllabus was followed, there was no pivoting or emailing students midweek with an extra reading or level of uncalled for engagement asking us to do this or that. She had healthy boundaries and knew her shit! Low key I found her excessive jewelry wearing (immaculate gold rings), baritone voice laughter and clumsiness humorous in a warm familiar way and liked that she knew the content she was teaching from head to toe. It was up to date, relevant and relatable for a freshman in college. She lectured and I loved it. I can’t say I cared to know about her life outside of teaching. Says something about me I suppose. Clearly it left an impact because I went from almost declaring a major in nursing, to deciding to major in social work with a minor in coaching. Bette didn’t play into power dynamics, she came taught and left while ensuring all bases were covered to increase our curiosity in social work. I learned how to actively listen in her class and it was wonderful concerning all of the anxieties I was experiencing at that time as a full-time student-athlete, friend to many, daughter, sister, girlfriend, mentor, mentee, member of clubs, cousin, culturally shocked youngster voyaging away from home, human being figuring things out. What a refuge even that I could sit there for an hour and 25mins and absorb the content. Bette identified as a white ciswoman, heterosexual and had to have been between 55-65 years old, her class was never spoken of but if I had to take a guess I’d say middle class and perhaps Catholic. She was comfortable in her skin. Respect to those who need more engagement, personhood of the Professor, etc but that’s never been my cup of tea. Top 3 one of my most influential classroom teachers pertaining to her devotion of the content she taught.

bell hooks will be missed, my goodness the impact that bell hooks has had on love and being. Though we connect in certain perspectives and differ in others I feel invigorated knowing I allowed space in my mind and heart for her ideas. So many of her ideas translate into the therapeutic dyad of patient/therapist. Gorgeous writing, beautiful symmetry concerning the residue of power dynamics in its crossover implications when considered outside of the classroom in its application. I will hold in regard some (not all) of her ideas as I enter into academic spaces as student/teacher/learner/knower and consider its application in the consulting room. Bravo bell! Asé

My Life

Well well well, on this day in 1994 Mary J. Blige blessed the world with her sophomore album titled ‘My Life’. Now I usually write about books in this virtual space but I’m switching things up in honor of this legend.

I was first introduced to Mary’s music via her 1st album ‘What’s the 411?’ in which track 04 ‘You Remind Me’ blew my little 7 year old ears away. I can’t say I fully comprehended exactly what she was talking about, but the beat knocked so I was hooked. Listening to those lyrics now, I can’t help but throw my therapist hat on lol and connect to just how powerful the limbic system is, Mary’s in particular. So much of her music is inspired by pain and longing with expressions of her desire to love and be loved. Oh Mary, in the words of RuPaul “if you can’t love yourself how in the hell you gonna love somebody else”! Nevertheless I cheered for her, track after track.

Back to ‘My Life’. Track 05 ‘I’m the Only Woman’ wowowowowowowowowow. Possessive, competitive, slightly toxic, emotionally vulnerable. Mary gave her fans a little taste of how she gets down behind closed doors. Loved it then, love it now even more. In fact I prefer messy, loose, complex “I will punch you in the face” Mary over sad and blue woe is me Mary who bellows how she just wants to be loved. Not sure what that says about me, or Mary. Obviously Mary is a whole person, though I’m highlighting the different aspects that particularly grab my attention. I can’t help but notice that she sings about love quite a lot, so I’d go as far as considering her an expert with over 10,000 hours x10 of singing about love, writing about love, being in love, rejecting love. Good for her, she’s consistent and allowing us to voyage with her while she engages in her craft. Sidebar: I understand why people who refuse to engage in talk therapy look to other outlets, like music, to process their feelings. Spell it out with me…… c-a-t-h-a-r-t-i-c !

If you have never listened to a Mary J. Blige album straight through ‘My Life’ is one of her pieces of art that I would recommend, as well as ‘Share My World’. Absolutely iconic.

And of course one icon influences another. The first American song I ever heard my mother sing was Anita Baker’s ‘Caught Up in the Rapture’ while driving her white 1988 Toyota Corolla. That’s the only space I have bore witness to my non-singing mother digging up a note, deep from the recesses of her diaphragm. Supposedly that’s where grief resides, in the lungs and diaphragm. Old stale persistent layered grief. That white beat up 1988 Toyota Corolla was where she’d release parts of that grief with Anita Baker singing along. I imagine Mary J. Blige was not only listening but singing along too, in spirit, as that white beat up 1988 Toyota Corolla trudged along on the empty streets of Hempstead. Anita’s famous song ‘Caught Up in the Rapture’ started Mary’s career. Kudos to both Queens.

I AM A PROMISE

This weekend I attended my nephew’s birthday celebration, as he brought in his 5th year of life. Paw Patrol, Bubble Guppies & Santiago of the Seas were all top of the list as standout toys. Then it occurred to me, mix it up, perhaps things to engage more than just his sense of touch. I exited the tactile arena with a Paw Patrol truck and began my children’s book search as a birthday gift supplement. His dedication to his bedtime ritual of having 2 books read to him in a very psychoanalytic style inspired the choice of adding books as a birthday gift (the person reading to him sits in a rocking chair slightly behind the head of his bed and off to the side, mirroring an analytic session using the couch lol). I figured his folxs may be tired of the Berenstain Bears and old school fairy tales so I jazzed up the selection. I share all this to say, the only books I have read since June 2021 are the 5 pictured above plus an additional 3 books that didn’t make the cut. The variety was purposeful. “Marsha Goes to Haiti” meant to engage his imagination concerning the land of his ancestors. “Read to Your Bunny” meant to be a quick read especially on those evenings when he bargains to be read 3 books instead of 2. “Bel Peyi Mwen”, a coloring book as a daytime activity that his parents can read aloud while he colors through the pages highlighting positive aspects of Haiti. “I Want To Ride the Tap Tap”, another book towards encouraging pride and curiosity in his Haitian ethnicity. “I Am A Promise” by the ‘sub 11 Queen’ SFP aka #mommyrocket aka #pocketrocket, Olympic medalist and World Champion Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce. I selected that book towards encouraging curiosity and appreciation for other Caribbean countries and primarily because I’m a big fan of Shelly. Perhaps by the end of the month he will be too. Now I can jump into aspects of her children’s book, or any of the other 4 books that were selected, but on this beautiful full moon evening I’ll stick to highlighting my appreciation of Shelly; her book stood out against the rest.

The fandom is primarily connected to her philanthropy, civic engagement and humbleness, truly making her a champion in my book. Authoring a children’s book put the cherry on top of what has become 13 years of service. Of course she has a bunch of medals, a bunch of world titles, and has won a bunch of 100m and 200m races in a sport that proposes that a woman’s peak performance is at the age of 30. Really…. 30?! What a wild assumption! Let me bring you into the whirlpool of Shelly’s legacy:

  • She birthed her son via c-section then won the next World Championship in the 100m *video clip below

  • 1st Caribbean woman to win a 100m Olympic gold medal (2008 Beijing)

  • Built and now operates a resource centre in her original poverty-stricken home community, across the street from the church that she grew up attending

  • Funds 6 new scholarships each school year for student-athletes in financial need, which they are able to retain until graduation from secondary school

  • Is the original idol of the current fastest woman in the world, fellow Jamaican track star Elaine Thomas-Herah (now her greatest competitor)

  • Organizes and funds a yearly “Six-a-Side” futbol tournament towards promoting peace and alternatives to violence in her original home community

  • Created job opportunities in her community pertaining to her entrepreneurial endeavors in both the hair and food industries with her businesses Shellys Shop, Chic Hair Ja, and Lady Shelly Beauty

  • Coordinates an annual Christmas Drive and Christmas Event to provide gifts to children in her original home community

Also, LOVE the fact that she expresses how she feels internally through the external expression of wigs and at times decorations on her crown such as sunflowers and hair bows. Do you know how hard it is to sprint in a wig in tropical heat?! Lol loved the book, would recommend as a gift to any child 10 and under.

Despite the violence, turmoil, corruption and poverty in her community she managed to not only rise to fame and fortune, but to then turn her platform into one of hope and inspiration to her fellow country members in both concrete and meta ways. I aspire towards similar civic engagement and philanthropic activities towards the advancement of Haiti, not by running 10.6 in a 100m race (3rd fastest time in history btw), but through other measures. Thank you Shelly for inspiring that hope. And a special shout out to Friends of Maissade for all of the medical assistance provided in Maissade Haiti during this global pandemic.

Zami: A New Spelling of My Name

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#HappyPride!

Today marks the close of June. A month I adore not only as an identified Gemini, but also as a self professed lover of summer months. The feeling of sweat trickling across my skin, due to temperature, not physical exertion, is a feeling I invite in. The overwhelming feeling of crowdedness at my local beach, while bodies pack in close to the polluted waters of Brooklyn. The crackle of fireworks startling me while I “Netflix and chill”. June July and August are so good to me.

I just wrapped up my summer reading list, a bit early, and this biomythography by Audre Lorde was the only “repeater” within the 4 book spread. Absolutely delicious. Audre is the only writer who I have seen quoted more often than James Baldwin in the signatures of fellow psychotherapist’s lol. I can babble about the content of this literary work but I’d prefer to leave that to the imagination, read this book if you haven’t already. Yet, I will share the thought that came to mind when deciding to pay homage to this Queen during this specific month…. Pride month. Had she lived during this era, how do you imagine Audre would have expressed herself concerning the relevance and presence of social media, as an activist writer lesbian poet mother lover Black ciswoman teacher feminist?

That brings to mind a meme sent by a close non-psychotherapist friend, who asked my advice after attempting to add her therapist on Instagram. The surprise of my homegirl, in her words, that she gave me permission to share; “I have 650K followers Shari and she declined my friend request! What’s the big deal, my account is public she told me she would prefer I put everything into words. How can she truly know me without seeing me on there?! You therapist can be really fucking uptight, what’s the big deal?!” We went and got Cold Stone ice cream that evening to quiet the temper tantrum as I explained that every therapist works differently. Similarly to writers, each has a vastly different way of communicating with their audience, some stay within a structure while others veer off the road. I then slapped her with an Audre Lorde quote:

“It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences”

I highly doubt those words registered lol and on that note, here’s the meme:

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Ugly Feelings

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My tween niece recently gave me a tutorial of TikTok, Snapchat, Facebook, monetized Instagram and good ole Twitter. She dubbed the lesson “Social Media 101 for Dummies”. I was grateful for the undivided attention, patience and access. At the end of the thorough lesson she asked me if I’d like to be featured on her IG account to boost my followers. She was utterly baffled when I said “no thanks I’d like to keep my account private, for personal use only”. She gave me a revolted look and in a curt tone stated “Auntie that’s dumb, you’re using it wrong”. I had forgotten how sharp tweens can be. She might as well have told me to take up a part-time job. Not an ounce of desire stirred in me as she reviewed some of the “notes” from our lesson with an emphasis on how much income I could gross if I followed her lead. Surely our desires were the same, no? She could not comprehend. Why the request for an in-depth lesson, the time if it was not going to somehow benefit me personally?

Then I showed her my website and asked “what do you think?” She scrolled, clicked, read a handful of entries from my virtual bookshelf. Her eyes darted across the screen with a look of content on her face. My sister’s mini me, whose diapers I use to change was reveling in being the teacher for the day. “Your opinion matters, tell me what you think Ms. Influencer”. She chuckled and responded “I think I’d want my therapist to be nerdy like you. Reading books and stuff. My God, you listen to people talk - I can’t even listen to myself talk”. We both started laughing. “Plus you played lacrosse so you’re all like a team player and stuff. I like that, I wish I played a team sport but I don’t like to sweat, and I don’t like people”. We shared another hearty laugh. “How come you don’t write about lacrosse Auntie”? I had no answer for her, then asked her if the invitation to write about her (on this forum) was still open from the summer. She consented. “No cap the future is virtual”. We spent the rest of the afternoon watching Syracuse vs. UNC women’s lacrosse on tv.

The major take away for me from the day was her “generational explanation” that anything made public on the internet is up for grabs. “Auntie think of it like your website. You have photo’s from visual artists, music videos, quotes from books. None of that’s yours - it belongs to someone else. Just because you name the artist doesn’t mean everyone else will. Just know it’s all up for grabs”. Did I know - but not allow myself to fully know the ways in which I repurpose art in collage form for the taking?

This poem by Dr. Ralph Roughton sums up the energy that I had present to me after reading Dr. Sianne Ngai’s literary work, Ugly Feelings. Enjoy:

When I ask you to listen to me and you start by giving advice, you have not done what I asked.

When I ask you to listen to me and you begin to tell me why I shouldn’t feel that way, you are trampling on my feelings.

When I ask you to listen to me and you feel you have to do something to solve my problem, you have failed me, strange as it may seem.

Listen! All I ask is that you listen, not talk or do—just hear me.

When you do something for me that I can and need to do for myself, you contribute to my fear and inadequacy.

And I can do for myself. I’m not helpless. Maybe discouraged and faltering, but not helpless.

But when you accept as simple fact that I do feel what I feel, no matter how irrational, then I can quit trying to convince you and get about the business of understanding what’s behind this irrational feeling. And when that’s clear, the answers are obvious and I don’t need advice.

Irrational feelings make sense when we understand what’s behind them.

Perhaps that’s why prayer works, sometimes, for some people—because God is mute, and He or She doesn’t give advice or try to fix things. God just listens and lets you work it out yourself.

So, please listen and just hear me. And if you want to talk, wait a minute for your turn, and I’ll listen to you.

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