We live, as best we can, in a spree of extremism. The pandemic wears on and democracy wears thin. Paying attention exhausts and unnerves. We live, as best we can, mostly on a high wire, seldom in a hammock. Democracy-fascism—fascism-democracy. Relief package on its way. Let’s try Alabama-China—Dr. King-Lao Tzu.
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When Lucille Clifton asks, “won’t you celebrate with me,” we answer yes. What does this Black woman decide when she finds no model for how to create her life? “what did i see but to be myself?” she responds. The poet fastens her hands and makes her life of “starshine and clay.” What does a boy from the staunchly-segregated south long to do before he dies? Jimmy Carter casts his ballot for Kamala Harris. Won’t you celebrate the 39th president with me?