Sometimes, the problem is a tangled ball of complexities. I joked about suing someone for the asthma, but as my dad loved to say, "You can't sue the government." I mean, you could, but who would I sue? Detroit Public Schools? the state of Michigan? the UK for the slave ships?

Unlike Karen, I can't call a manager about the everyday racism and sexism I face as a Black woman professor. And yes, I know that grad students and contingent faculty face that, too -- listen, I have been both of the above.

But I signed up for this sh*t. And. There's no end.

There's no one to sue, no manager to call, lol. I just take my allergy & asthma meds, STFU, meditate, pray.

Then when my fingers swelled so that my favorite sorority ring had to be cut off my ring finger the day before I drove to Philly, I just sighed & took those meds, too.

Black life in these United States has always involved mourning, and resignation, and finding ways to pull joy from both.

If you're a writer, a thinker, or a scholar right now, make time to read Christina Sharpe's In the Wake. It's a balm for your mind & heart.

The beauty of it all is that our elders and ancestors taught us not to look for external validation from our oppressors and their collaborators and those of like mind.

We know who we are.

“We stand on top of the mountain, free within ourselves.” --Langston Hughes