Being in Chicago, I feel you, and I’ve been thinking about you since I heard Portland was on the radar now: “I am not a person who needs to feel things personally to care about what is happening in and to our country, but there was something about feeling it personally—about seeing my government point weapons at the place I live—that took my now-decade’s worth of anger to a deeper place.”
You're not alone, Rita, I share your fury (I know you know that already). My daughter just graduated from one of the universities the White House "had its eye on" during the Gaza protests. As I sat here in Portland, I felt like the eye of Sauron was focused on HER. Now she's graduated and home, and the eye of Sauron pivoted toward my family once again. This profound feeling of threat and instability has every parental instinct on alert. And I say this knowing full well my family's not the most vulnerable out there. The fear, rage, disgust, grief we carry...it's constant. It's BEEN constant for years. It's deeply personal and collective at the same time.
Oh, for sure, Asha. I feel so much empathy for those who are parenting kids who are still kids, and there is a different kind of strain for those of us parenting young adults. (Selfishly, would love to see you explore that in your newsletter.) I worried some about sharing this, knowing how many people here are far more vulnerable than my family, but like you say: It's collective. It impacts some of us differently than others, but what's happening impacts us all. I know you know--the constancy over years. Grateful to feel less alone in it. Thank you for writing.
Understanding one’s privilege is important, but I feel very strongly that one’s relative privilege doesn’t negate one’s right to acknowledge fear or harm. As I see it, there’s always somebody with more or less money/status/safety. Dehumanizing up the ladder or down is still dehumanizing.
Thank you for this. More than 3 decades ago, I had a conversation with a school counselor about this. I expressed something about having students who were enduring so much more difficult/painful experiences than I ever had, and she stopped me and said, "pain is pain." It was the first time someone told me that someone else having greater pain than ours doesn't negate ours. I've never forgotten it, and yet it can be hard to overcome that early conditioning to minimize and dismiss things that are wrong.
I feel the furious fertility and recognize that kitchen frenzy because I cook when I am stressed. I can see wanting / needing to fight back threats of destruction with the manifestations of bounty and sustenance. The world may burn but there will be pesto, dammit. I am so sorry that is happening to your home, to our home. Furies, indeed.
There will be pesto, dammit. Your responses always make me feel so understood. Thank you, thank you. For being here, for being you. I wish I could give you some of my soup. Or galette. It was really good galette. Both.
I can taste them through your words and even better, I feel like I was in the kitchen with you! Thanks so much for the feast of your words and being generous with yourself. So grateful for you!
Rita. I loved this so much. I understood perfectly your Furies in the kitchen to have a place to direct your Fury at this ridiculous invasion of your beloved city, the need to have your hands in the soil, to plant the seeds for goodness when so much malevolence seems to be surrounding us, seeking to bury our best impulses, our kindness and care for one another. Keep planting. Keep blooming! What fuels me is my creative fire, my daughters and their fine men, my women friends. My beloved community of Substack sisters (and brothers too). 💗
What great fuel! And it has you burning so brightly. (I'm a little in awe.) I will keep planting, blooming, cooking. My creative fire has been dimmed of late, so I need to tend my body. I guess that's why I had the days in the kitchen. Your comment is reminding me that there are different seasons for all of us, and it's helping me find a little peace with being where I am. Thank you!
Different seasons for all of us—yes, so true. And we need to honor those internal seasons. Keep listening to your body. Lately I have been overriding the wisdom of mine—putting too much fuel in my creative fire!—and last weekend suffered a low back injury relapse that took days for recovery. I had piled on a full day & evening of social and creative activity with new women friends. I was inspired but in my body, way over stimulated. A lesson learned: my season of rest isn’t write ready to let go of me.
I have to learn this lesson over and over again. It's so hard, once you finally start feeling better, not to want to make up for lost time. Not to do all the things your soul is craving! Our bodies let us know what they need, though, don't they? Hope you are feeling better again.
You seem to be channeling your fury in a healthy way, Rita, which is good to see. From comments you've shared in the past, I know you've long wanted to become more proficient in the garden and in the kitchen, to know how to do the work of growing/preserving/preparing at least some of your own food. It's a good thing to do in difficult times.
I have been less successful at channelling my fury. I should be, right this moment, out in the garden, picking kale and processing it for freezing. Instead I am here, telling you that I am fucking furious about what's happening in your country. And also, that I am fucking terrified about what I believe will happen shortly to MY country. If Trump and the architects of Project 2025 have their way, Americans will be living under an authoritarian, fascist regime. And Canadians and Canada will cease to exist.
I'm going to go into the garden now and try to breathe.
Oh, Marian. So many of us are fucking furious and terrified. They haven't consolidated all power yet, but this is an authoritarian, fascist regime. I hate so much what is happening. I hope you are in your garden right now, picking kale and breathing. Have been working a lot on staying grounded in my body, in the present moment. It doesn't change anything about what is happening or will happen with my government and country, but it helps me endure it. That and connecting with you and others like you here.
My mother keeps calling after watching the news and begging me not to leave the house. I tell her it's fine but it's also not fine? I feel relatively safe, but if so many others do not, is anyone really safe?
Portland is a wonderful city and is actively engaged in social causes as I'm sure you already know. I appreciate seeing local government here in Chicago making statements like NO, WE DO NOT NEED THIS and Pritzker has been a force to be reckoned with.
So much "it's fine but it's also not fine." Personally and in the larger world. (I know you know a lot about that kind of duality.) Feels kind of good to be in it with a city like Chicago! Makes weird little Portland seem kind of...I don't know, bad ass? I've only been to Chicago once (for a school librarian conference) and I barely got to see it. I was there in January and did not bring appropriate outer wear, at all. There was a place famous for deep dish pizza just around the corner from the hotel, and I did brave the walk to it because I could not go to Chicago and not have some of that pizza. Could not believe how cutting that wind was! (Was right by the water.) I would love to visit again and actually experience the city. Also, that pizza was totally worth my near-frostbite.
Chicago's winter is not to braved without proper gear. The wind can truly burn your skin. During that crazy polar vortex someone I knew had the liquid freeze up in her EYE. Yikes. Good for you for making a pizza trek. If you come, I'm happy to be your tour guide.
Weird little Portland protests like it's a job, not a hobby. That's why the orange man hates it so much. Definitely a sign you all are doing it right.
Damn, if I'd known my EYE could feeeze I might not have thought pizza was worth it. (But maybe...it was really really good.) We have some kickass donuts, which feels about right. If you ever come this way, I will take you to them 🙂. Protest here isn't a job, it's a calling. And sometimes a party. I think that's what he really hates--people who are joyful.
I don't need to live in Portland to feel this deeply. We are all Portland. I don't know how we move beyond this madness, but I do know that we will. Goodness always prevails in the end and Mother Nature is our silent warrior, which is likely why you are drawn to your kitchen and your garden. Me too. I gather strength from her which I certainly need at this time. We will prevail.
I love your conviction, Sue. Your steady faith. It's a struggle for me to hold mine, but you are so right about nature being a source of strength. I'm going to remember that the next time I find myself faltering.
This really hit home for me, Rita. That kitchen fury (Fury!) you talk about—I totally get it. It’s like this way to stay grounded and push back at the same time. I love how you tied it to your garden and the basket that carried your babies. A truly beautiful reminder of what really feeds us, especially when everything outside is so out of control.
To answer your questions: what fuels me is a mix of creativity and connection—cooking, writing, and spending time with family and friends. Those are things I’m not giving up.
Also, I’m looking forward to reading the piece you shared from Elizabeth Doerr. Sounds like it gives a real look at what Portland needs right now, and I appreciate you passing it along.
Thanks so much for sharing such a thoughtful and powerful reflection.
I'm not surprised to learn that you and I run on similar fuel. 🙂 I liked the Doerr piece a lot. The Portland she writes is the one I know (though I don't know her). Thank you for being here.
Loved every bit of your writing as usual. And I totally understand your need to cook and preserve and do "something good" in the face of all that is going on.
I have been thinking of you a lot this week and I’m glad to come here and see that you have been filling your time with practical pursuits and controlling the things you can control.
I hate that we are here, but I really do love seeing people resist by being good stewards of themselves, their resources, and their neighbors. I’ve been joyspotting these “shadow” governments and while I wish they didn’t have to exist, I’m finding them all the time. It’s good fuel. Thank you for sharing with us!
I love knowing (maybe again), about the Furies. And yet, in spite of of it all, or because of it all, we can be generous, we can be full, we can be wide open, we can grow - in all the ways - and goddamnit, we can cook enough for our own army of good. Watching Portland closely and the new judge's order that I hope will last. Wishing you all the good smells of your kitchen to soothe your furies.
Rita, this filled me up! The natural bounty, the preparing of provisions, the giving of sustenance — it’s all a perfect response to all that is being taken away around you. I would love to learn how to grow my own vegetables. It’s part of my romantic notion of moving to Italy, feeling as if I’ll somehow be able to do it there.
Being in Chicago, I feel you, and I’ve been thinking about you since I heard Portland was on the radar now: “I am not a person who needs to feel things personally to care about what is happening in and to our country, but there was something about feeling it personally—about seeing my government point weapons at the place I live—that took my now-decade’s worth of anger to a deeper place.”
I'm really sorry that you know this, too.
You're not alone, Rita, I share your fury (I know you know that already). My daughter just graduated from one of the universities the White House "had its eye on" during the Gaza protests. As I sat here in Portland, I felt like the eye of Sauron was focused on HER. Now she's graduated and home, and the eye of Sauron pivoted toward my family once again. This profound feeling of threat and instability has every parental instinct on alert. And I say this knowing full well my family's not the most vulnerable out there. The fear, rage, disgust, grief we carry...it's constant. It's BEEN constant for years. It's deeply personal and collective at the same time.
Oh, for sure, Asha. I feel so much empathy for those who are parenting kids who are still kids, and there is a different kind of strain for those of us parenting young adults. (Selfishly, would love to see you explore that in your newsletter.) I worried some about sharing this, knowing how many people here are far more vulnerable than my family, but like you say: It's collective. It impacts some of us differently than others, but what's happening impacts us all. I know you know--the constancy over years. Grateful to feel less alone in it. Thank you for writing.
Understanding one’s privilege is important, but I feel very strongly that one’s relative privilege doesn’t negate one’s right to acknowledge fear or harm. As I see it, there’s always somebody with more or less money/status/safety. Dehumanizing up the ladder or down is still dehumanizing.
Thank you for this. More than 3 decades ago, I had a conversation with a school counselor about this. I expressed something about having students who were enduring so much more difficult/painful experiences than I ever had, and she stopped me and said, "pain is pain." It was the first time someone told me that someone else having greater pain than ours doesn't negate ours. I've never forgotten it, and yet it can be hard to overcome that early conditioning to minimize and dismiss things that are wrong.
Totally! And that urge often comes from a place of great compassion for others, which is a wonderful thing.
I feel the furious fertility and recognize that kitchen frenzy because I cook when I am stressed. I can see wanting / needing to fight back threats of destruction with the manifestations of bounty and sustenance. The world may burn but there will be pesto, dammit. I am so sorry that is happening to your home, to our home. Furies, indeed.
There will be pesto, dammit. Your responses always make me feel so understood. Thank you, thank you. For being here, for being you. I wish I could give you some of my soup. Or galette. It was really good galette. Both.
I can taste them through your words and even better, I feel like I was in the kitchen with you! Thanks so much for the feast of your words and being generous with yourself. So grateful for you!
💚💚💚
Rita. I loved this so much. I understood perfectly your Furies in the kitchen to have a place to direct your Fury at this ridiculous invasion of your beloved city, the need to have your hands in the soil, to plant the seeds for goodness when so much malevolence seems to be surrounding us, seeking to bury our best impulses, our kindness and care for one another. Keep planting. Keep blooming! What fuels me is my creative fire, my daughters and their fine men, my women friends. My beloved community of Substack sisters (and brothers too). 💗
What great fuel! And it has you burning so brightly. (I'm a little in awe.) I will keep planting, blooming, cooking. My creative fire has been dimmed of late, so I need to tend my body. I guess that's why I had the days in the kitchen. Your comment is reminding me that there are different seasons for all of us, and it's helping me find a little peace with being where I am. Thank you!
Different seasons for all of us—yes, so true. And we need to honor those internal seasons. Keep listening to your body. Lately I have been overriding the wisdom of mine—putting too much fuel in my creative fire!—and last weekend suffered a low back injury relapse that took days for recovery. I had piled on a full day & evening of social and creative activity with new women friends. I was inspired but in my body, way over stimulated. A lesson learned: my season of rest isn’t write ready to let go of me.
I have to learn this lesson over and over again. It's so hard, once you finally start feeling better, not to want to make up for lost time. Not to do all the things your soul is craving! Our bodies let us know what they need, though, don't they? Hope you are feeling better again.
Thank you Rita; I know you get it 💗
You seem to be channeling your fury in a healthy way, Rita, which is good to see. From comments you've shared in the past, I know you've long wanted to become more proficient in the garden and in the kitchen, to know how to do the work of growing/preserving/preparing at least some of your own food. It's a good thing to do in difficult times.
I have been less successful at channelling my fury. I should be, right this moment, out in the garden, picking kale and processing it for freezing. Instead I am here, telling you that I am fucking furious about what's happening in your country. And also, that I am fucking terrified about what I believe will happen shortly to MY country. If Trump and the architects of Project 2025 have their way, Americans will be living under an authoritarian, fascist regime. And Canadians and Canada will cease to exist.
I'm going to go into the garden now and try to breathe.
Oh, Marian. So many of us are fucking furious and terrified. They haven't consolidated all power yet, but this is an authoritarian, fascist regime. I hate so much what is happening. I hope you are in your garden right now, picking kale and breathing. Have been working a lot on staying grounded in my body, in the present moment. It doesn't change anything about what is happening or will happen with my government and country, but it helps me endure it. That and connecting with you and others like you here.
My mother keeps calling after watching the news and begging me not to leave the house. I tell her it's fine but it's also not fine? I feel relatively safe, but if so many others do not, is anyone really safe?
Portland is a wonderful city and is actively engaged in social causes as I'm sure you already know. I appreciate seeing local government here in Chicago making statements like NO, WE DO NOT NEED THIS and Pritzker has been a force to be reckoned with.
So much "it's fine but it's also not fine." Personally and in the larger world. (I know you know a lot about that kind of duality.) Feels kind of good to be in it with a city like Chicago! Makes weird little Portland seem kind of...I don't know, bad ass? I've only been to Chicago once (for a school librarian conference) and I barely got to see it. I was there in January and did not bring appropriate outer wear, at all. There was a place famous for deep dish pizza just around the corner from the hotel, and I did brave the walk to it because I could not go to Chicago and not have some of that pizza. Could not believe how cutting that wind was! (Was right by the water.) I would love to visit again and actually experience the city. Also, that pizza was totally worth my near-frostbite.
Chicago's winter is not to braved without proper gear. The wind can truly burn your skin. During that crazy polar vortex someone I knew had the liquid freeze up in her EYE. Yikes. Good for you for making a pizza trek. If you come, I'm happy to be your tour guide.
Weird little Portland protests like it's a job, not a hobby. That's why the orange man hates it so much. Definitely a sign you all are doing it right.
Damn, if I'd known my EYE could feeeze I might not have thought pizza was worth it. (But maybe...it was really really good.) We have some kickass donuts, which feels about right. If you ever come this way, I will take you to them 🙂. Protest here isn't a job, it's a calling. And sometimes a party. I think that's what he really hates--people who are joyful.
I don't need to live in Portland to feel this deeply. We are all Portland. I don't know how we move beyond this madness, but I do know that we will. Goodness always prevails in the end and Mother Nature is our silent warrior, which is likely why you are drawn to your kitchen and your garden. Me too. I gather strength from her which I certainly need at this time. We will prevail.
I love your conviction, Sue. Your steady faith. It's a struggle for me to hold mine, but you are so right about nature being a source of strength. I'm going to remember that the next time I find myself faltering.
Nature and an occasional mountain pose in nature, reminding us of our inherent strength. :)
This really hit home for me, Rita. That kitchen fury (Fury!) you talk about—I totally get it. It’s like this way to stay grounded and push back at the same time. I love how you tied it to your garden and the basket that carried your babies. A truly beautiful reminder of what really feeds us, especially when everything outside is so out of control.
To answer your questions: what fuels me is a mix of creativity and connection—cooking, writing, and spending time with family and friends. Those are things I’m not giving up.
Also, I’m looking forward to reading the piece you shared from Elizabeth Doerr. Sounds like it gives a real look at what Portland needs right now, and I appreciate you passing it along.
Thanks so much for sharing such a thoughtful and powerful reflection.
I'm not surprised to learn that you and I run on similar fuel. 🙂 I liked the Doerr piece a lot. The Portland she writes is the one I know (though I don't know her). Thank you for being here.
Loved every bit of your writing as usual. And I totally understand your need to cook and preserve and do "something good" in the face of all that is going on.
I have been thinking of you a lot this week and I’m glad to come here and see that you have been filling your time with practical pursuits and controlling the things you can control.
I hate that we are here, but I really do love seeing people resist by being good stewards of themselves, their resources, and their neighbors. I’ve been joyspotting these “shadow” governments and while I wish they didn’t have to exist, I’m finding them all the time. It’s good fuel. Thank you for sharing with us!
And thank you for telling me that you are finding such positive actions all the time. I need to hear things like that.
I love knowing (maybe again), about the Furies. And yet, in spite of of it all, or because of it all, we can be generous, we can be full, we can be wide open, we can grow - in all the ways - and goddamnit, we can cook enough for our own army of good. Watching Portland closely and the new judge's order that I hope will last. Wishing you all the good smells of your kitchen to soothe your furies.
Rita, this filled me up! The natural bounty, the preparing of provisions, the giving of sustenance — it’s all a perfect response to all that is being taken away around you. I would love to learn how to grow my own vegetables. It’s part of my romantic notion of moving to Italy, feeling as if I’ll somehow be able to do it there.