what can i do? what can i say?

Unconsciously I set myself the task of being creative everyday. A good way of marking this practice, was and still is, turning up here on this blog and posting something. Anything. A word, a quote, an image, an essay, an epiphany.

Some days, I’ve not had the time or energy or bandwidth to create anything, other days when I’ve felt this way, I’ve still turned up and done something. Anything. I’ve wanted to bring in some consistency within a world where consistency is irrelevant and pointless in the grand scheme of things. When the world is on fire, when Palestinians are dying of starvation and gunfire. When anti-immigration riots erupted once more in the UK. When tropical storms kill people in the Philippines. And when Syria returns to bloodshed. The list could go on of more countries and peoples around the world suffering at the hands of others, who do not see them as human or care about them.

I get sick of hearing the news. Watching the news. Seeing the headlines. I look away. I look away because I can and then chastise myself for dong so. There’s something in witnessing it all, even though it hurts my soul. What can I do? What can I say?

I get frustrated with all the hypocrisy I witness. The double standards. The lack of justice. People saying we’re doing this to them because we’ve been persecuted for so long so have a right, or are justified in persecuting other people now. I’m a white man and I rape women and children, but I’m protesting about (illegal) immigrants coming over here and raping our women and children. Everything is operating within this world to keep a few in power and wealth at the expense of other people deemed inferior and dispensable.

I hate hate. I can’t stand it. I see it in the screwed up faces of people hauling abuse at vulnerable people. It’s been there within the marrow of their bones for centuries. Grown white adults, hurling abuse at little black children. Not seeing them as children but as beasts, beasts to destroy. It breaks my heart and disgusts me, but what can I say? What can I do?

I can stop myself from feeing powerless. I can stop my handwringing, and getting frustrated with myself and use this energy otherwise. I can make art to bring about change. No matter how small that change, starting from myself and vibrating out.

I can create stories of an imagined alternative, better, other world. I can create zines which challenge and refuse what has already been refused of us. I can blog about my own experiences in order to connect with others. I can paint/ print posters to raise awareness and change the messages of hate to love and hope. I can create community and create change together, one stitch, one word, one voice at a time. I can create poetry to create conversation. I can self-care so I can in turn community-care. I can donate time, money, resources to a cause I believe in and that is bringing about a better society. I can lean more into mutual aid to divest from racial capitalism.

I can keep showing up here, craving out a safe and brave space on the internet that is liberatory worldmaking, on my own terms.

Gaining Clarity

I’m been talking here about finding my tribe. About my search for comrades in solidarity. I’ve remained pine in the process, for real. From one particular source I asked for further reading, as something was niggling me. Id expressed my concerns in terms of using the oppressors language as well as, well I felt as, the lack of warmth, kindness, care and love. And then through the further reading it all became clear. This was my response.

I believe that there needs to be unity to fight all oppressions. You can’t fight racism without fighting against capitalism.

But I realise through this further reading where my concerns lie. It’s not in the socialist/Marxist movement as a whole but it’s with the people who make up the movement.

I’m not sure if the people of the movement have/ or continue to take the time to work on their own racism. There seems to be a given that because the movement is against all oppressions that it means those who are part of the movement can’t be racist or sexist because they say they are against all forms of oppression. Saying it is one thing. Practising it is another.

In practice there is still the use of the oppressors language as I’ve mentioned before. Using ‘non-white’ or ‘minorities’ is offence as they still centre whiteness which is used for division and oppression.

The articles mention the BPP alienating white people because of their support for Black Nationalism and Separatism, and their language used around Black Power. You even mentioned yourself that we can’t fight capitalism through language and its use. Modifying language is not going to bring about material change you say.

And yet it is language the party is using to rally the masses, to bring people together.
Language is the tool of persuasion no? Language is the tool of education.

But if that language continues to use the language of the oppressor and is offensive to certain groups of people, they are accused of being confused, ill informed and falling into the identity politics trap again.

However, from my experience, through reading the literature of the party, I feel that the language used reflects a party line where the people behind that line are not continuing to work on their own racism/ biases while focusing their efforts on society’s ills, outside of themselves.

I do not feed into white supremacy culture with the characteristics of either/or. I believe in and/both. That means for me, there has to be the work on the individual’s internalised racism and sexism at the same time as working against oppressions within society. Working on our own blind spots and prejudices can only benefit the movement as a whole. Where this fails to take place is where the oppressors divide and rule become fixed without our recognition of it.

To say that ‘non-white’ is every day language, quote, ‘commonly understood by ordinary people as respectful ways to refer to some people who are oppressed’, as a black person being referred to as ‘non-white’ is offensive to me and I’m not really bothered if other black people are okay with it. I might be falling into an identity police trap but one my identity is not built on my relation to whiteness that is racism. Two, if someone says they find it offensive and that is not recognised or is questioned and explained away as being the norm is denying that person’s experience which is racist. Three, to bring this up then to have it dismissed as being defensive and accusing someone of being a bigot/ racist and dismissed as a distraction from the cause is another example of an individual failing to check themselves and work on themselves to combat their racism/ discrimination tendencies.

I work on myself daily to check my prejudices or biases or judgments and blind spots. I only wish more people would also as I do believe the world would be a better place because of it. Movements and societies are groupings made up of individuals. Working on the individual at the same time as the collective can only strengthen that connection and keep moving it forward in an effective way, I believe.

If we think about what is happen in the USA today, and the ICE raids within every community. The Latino community is coming out and asking where are the black people why are they not out here on the streets with them protesting? Why are they sitting this fight out etc.?
Black people are tired, esp. black women. Black people told everyone to vote for Kamala Harris and they didn’t listen. They voted for Trump. And now he is doing all that he said he would do.

Now people are asking for black people once again to put their bodies on the line. And yeah this is a prime example of the ruling class dividing and ruling. Pitting one group against another. But what is true there and what is true here, black people only make up a small percentage of the population. In the states 12% here 4% with other ethnicities. And yet it is expected for us to save the world. ( Aside here we might be termed ‘minorities’ within these countries but we are the global majority. I don’t use ‘minorities’ because it is used as language of control. Black Feminism or Third World Feminism has always been global in its remit).

It is expected for black people to put aside those differences which on a daily effect our life chances. Our lives in terms of life and death. And this is not feeding into a victim hierarchy and who’s suffering is more than someone else’s. It’s a reality. Black people, black women do not just suffer violence and brutality from the state but do so from person to person in their every day and yet black feminism still criticises and attempts to bring material change for all through fighting all oppressions including capitalism and yet if they ‘fail’ to bring about material change it is because of ill-fighting or confusion in their ideology but no mention of doing this within a racist/ sexist society that does not see Black women as anything except mules of the world. Not either/or but and/both.

As black women we continue to not be seen as human. Read Fugitive Feminism by Akuwgo Emejulu to understand this, which is anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist and anti-colonialist. It’s arguing for a rejection of the whole system. A refusal of what has already been refused to us. Other ways of being are possible.

Marx himself saw the future of capitalism as self-destruction and a social mode of production being the outcome. Fugitive Feminism is being/working now with the other possibilities. It’s about creating an outside while still on the inside. Creating spaces of liberation and joy on our own terms. It’s not waiting until then for it to be now. It’s collective and speculative and might be fostered by black women but can be utilised for all, all oppressions including capitalism and the class struggle.
It is probably dismissed though because it comes from the mouths, minds and hearts of black women.

Thanks for all these readings. They have helped in clarifying where I stand. In solidarity but at the same time in my own fullness and power which I lend to any movement which recognises this and works with me to bring about dismantling all oppressions for all people.

The reply I got, was thanks, I’ll reflect on it, and wish you luck on finding your people.

I’m sharing it here as I don’t want my realisation to do to waste. The words I shared to go to waste, as I’m still open for the conversation, still open to standing together.

who has #womensrights?

Neil Kenlock, 1970, Resistence Exhibition, Steve McQueen, 2025

In March the United Nations issued a report about Israel’s systematic use of sexual, reproductive and other forms of gender-based violence against Palestinian women since October 2023.

Those who shout long and hard about #womensrights have said fuck all about this abuse.

Perpetuating a system of oppression through gender-based violence and undermining self-determination is not coincidental.

But those who profess to be standing up for #womensrights say nothing.

Sexual and gender-based violence perpetuated across the Occupied Palestinian Territory is a strategy of war by Israel to demoralise and destroy Palestinians.

Those who shout long and hard about #womensrights have said fuck all about this abuse.

Israeli forces have destroyed sexual and reproductive healthcare facilities across Gaza. Medical support and equipment for safe pregnancies, postnatal care and neonatal care are decimated.

But those who profess to be standing up for #womensrights say nothing.

Women’s and girl’s reproductive right and autonomy as well as their right to life, health and dignity have been erased.

And yet these people, mostly white women, such as JK Rowling, who harp on about #womensrights and the so called threats posed by transgender people, say nothing about the Palestinian women and girls who are subjected to violence right now.

The deliberate starvation by Israel of Palestinian people has a devastating effect on pregnant women resulting in anaemia, malnutrition, miscarriages, stillbirths and undernourished newborns as lactating women cannot produce enough milk.

And yet these people here for #womensrights say nothing.

It would seem that those who claim to be champions of #womenrights pick and choose who has rights as women, fuck it, as human beings.

Mid-year reflections

Bracket Fungi

Summer Solstice came and gone. I had plans to hit the sea at sunrise, but didn’t make it because I had a restless night what with the heat and house and car alarms going off during the night? Are they sensitive to the heat? I do not know. I thought I was trapped in some kind of twilight zone with the incessant calling alarms and no one moving to switch them off. But I digress. maybe I’m just sensitive to senseless noise!

Mid-year reflections. What can I say? I’m not getting anywhere fast and I’m okay with that.

I FaceTimed with a very dear friend many miles away today and she asked and what’s happening with me. What’s happening in Sheree World?

At first I felt I needed to fill in the gaps with some of this shit and that. Or I’ve been asked to do this shit and that? That I had to show I was hustling and beating the grind real good. But shit ain’t happening in Sheree World and in all honesty I’m happy about that.

I hibernated well into April this year what with going to Paris and celebrating my babies’ birthdays. By the time I came out of my cave, everyone was well into their year, well into 2025. And I could do one of two things ( probably other things too but focusing on just the two for now!).

I could drop everything my heart desired and focused on catching up with everyone else. Max out my diary with jobs and commitments and watch the money roll in.

Or two, I could, continue to roll out of my SheCave slowly and mindfully, carefully and with a whole heap of love and grace for myself and just take things on a day to day basis. No rush no sense of urgency and definitely no panicking.

Which option do you think I chose to follow?

I’m not even sure it was a viable choice because I’m so used to practicing Slow Fugitivity now that it’s the only way I can operate and keep myself sane, safe and thriving.

I’m not measuring my success by how much my bank balance is telling me or more like alerting me to. I’m not measuring my success by how many people are singing my praises. By how many people have my name on this lips and are ready and willing to work with me. Promote me, award me, accept me.

I’m measuring my success on how good I feel moment to moment. How much joy and love am I feeling now? How much care am I giving to my self and those around me? How much am I showing up into situations, gatherings and meetings as myself? Transparent, honest, earnest and hopeful?

How much am I being open hearted, loved, loveable and loving towards myself and those around me?

This is my measure of success.

I’m not turning away from all the shit and cruelty and destruction that is happening around me and in this world. I’m feeling it for the people who are getting caught in the middle of men with big egos who are playing at being leaders and pretending to protect their people. I know what is happening in the name of religion, or history or land and justice. I’m listening and seeing genocide after genocide happening and those responsible not being held to account. I see it and feel it and I want to do more to stop it, to fight against it. So trust me when I say, I do not turn away or ignore it when I choose joy and care and love as my weapons of choice. I’m not living in a fantasy land of all happy happy joy Joy. I’m not being naive or flippant.

I’m choosing to refuse the stories we are being told. I’m refusing to perpetuate the capitalist structures and feed into the patriarchy and imperialist tendencies. I’m choosing to refuse the roles assigned to me as a black woman as just another body to be used and abused and disposed of after I’m no longer useful.

Fuck that fuckery.

So mid-year reflection is that:

* I’ve got no regular working gig on the horizon.

* I’m searching for my tribe.

* I’m dreaming of other possibilities, another way of being.

* I’m refusing the shit sandwich that is offer me again and again.

* I’m refusing what has already been refused of me.

* I’m creating spaces for creative fugitivity.

* I’m creating gaps or breaks in the capitalist dome from which we can break free into the land of possibilities filled with imagination and play.

* I’m embracing craftivism. My word are my weapons. Always have been, always will be.

* I’m lingering in the midst of flight.

* I’m taking MY TIME to stretch OUT my tired limbs. Limbs reaching for the sky, eyes focused on the stars above as I’m breathing deeply, and allowing my deep belly laugh to roll out over the landscape as I pick a rhythm to my own beat and I’m shaking shake shake shaking OUT by big beautiful black behind.

Come join me if you dare. Make sure to bring a plate of food and story to tell as we gonna be gathering around the fire soon to build a free community, or as my dear friend Dal was saying just the other day, build a village. Yes thank you, indeedy!

Let’s get to shaking, shake shake, shaking this shit up!

claiming my time so my morning flows on my own terms

When I know I have a busy day, in commitment to others and outside the home, I make sure I claim back my time. I get up early and feed my pot first. I prioritise me.

This morning saw me up at 6am and out, down to the sea.

It was so beautiful this morning, with a slice of lemon on the horizon. I knew I’d made the right decision to get up and out, while the rest of the world was sleeping.

And of course I had to get in. June and the water is still cold. So it woke me up, job done. But it also calmed and focused the mind. When I’m with the sea, I can do anything. Nothing is an issue or a problem. It’s just gravy.

Once out of her embrace, I took to walking along the front, continuing my ultramarathon training, increasing my time on my feet each day.

Now home and completing my visual journaling over coffee. I’m satisfied. I know I’ve given myself the time to ease into the world on my own terms. This means I’m a happy bunny and for the rest of the day, I’ll be basking in this joyful light.

Anyone who comes into my rays will be blessed.

The Sinners Series – 004

You know I love the movie, Sinners. I’m onto my fifth watching of it.

One of my favourite songs within the movie is this one Dangerous sung by Hailee Steinfeld. I could rage on for hours about this song; it’s melody and words and underlining beat. But for now, I’m taking the word dangerous and running with it.

Within Sinners, what can be seen as dangerous is the invasion of vampires, a life or death situation. What could also be seen as dangerous is a community of sharecroppers having a safe space to listen to music and dance and eat and drink on their own terms. To be free. This could be seen as dangerous by the white supremacy culture they are living under.

For me what I see as dangerous are the white men who are still running around in their white hoods, calling themselves the brotherhood, the protectors of white women and democracy and who do whatever is takes to keep the black people( they do not use this nice a term for such people) in line even if it means killing them all.

These white men in hoods, the Ku Klux Klan, deal out justice as they see fit, creating terror as the deterrent to black people thinking of stepping out of line. And that could be just breathing.

These white men could meet you on the street one day and be burning down your house the very next day. But you wouldn’t know who they be. You know the enemy is a white man but it could be the smiling face neighbour who hides behind the hood, concealing their identity and cause havoc with no repercussions or justice or revenge on them. To live in this sense of fear is unimaginable.

Today these Federal Officials and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) marshals who are abusing their power, gifted by the Trump administration, to take people, children as well, from their homes, schools, work, off the streets and detain them, saying they are illegal, deport them, torture them for no reason except being seen as an ‘alien’ because they are brown and black are no better than the KKK. They wear the masks. They cover their faces. Conceal their identities and commit the crimes. The brown and black citizens of these communities are not committing any crimes except attempting to survive and thrive, living their lives.

Why cover your faces if you believe in what you are doing? Why conceal your identity if you are doing what is right, following the law? Why hide if you are proud of your actions?

This is dangerous. White men or white baby-men again have been emboldened and empowered to run havoc through our communities in the name of the law. Believing that they are doing what’s right in terms of some warped sense of superiority and the belief that they have a right to do so.

This is dangerous and has to be stopped. How? That is what we have to work out.

Running Scared, No More

Let’s be scared. Let’s demonise people.

This is the message sweeping across countries at the moment, around the world, as we continue to move further to the right in terms of politics and governing people. Suppressing people and voices.

Thinking about my weekend in London at the Defeating Narratives of Division conference hosted by the Ella Baker School of Organising, and coming home to see peaceful protests in L.A. around the over stretching arms of Federal Officials and illegal immigration raids on communities being portrayed as chaos and unruly and needs to be stopped with military force. Trump, man!

What the fuck is happening right now? What false narratives fuelled by fear and intimidation are catching like wildfire and are taking hold? What is happening to democracy and fairness and justice?

I too am scared. I’ve been told by some to have fear and anxiety and start panicking in order to take action. Time is running out. Passing on this narrative of fear is making us on the so-called left no better than those on the right whose fuel is fear.

We have to be pushing back against these fears. Not disallowing them but acknowledging them and choosing to fuel our movement with love and solidarity and joy. We can come together as we have the power and spread a message of love and welcome and togetherness and there is no way that message can be twisted or used against us.

It is plain to see that communities who stand together, even if from different cultures and races and heritages, are powerful and those who are crooked and authoritarian are scared of this. Scared of us taking back our power and saying no, enough!

I’ll be writing more on this in the weeks to come. But for now I just had to mark this moment of disgust at what is happening around the world but how there is much to be celebrating and reinforcing and elevating. Stories of love and solidarity and people taking back their agency and power. Thinking of Burkina Faso here and other African nations who are standing up and saying enough is enough.

But all in good time, and for me ‘good’ time is slow time. Taking the time to bring about lasting change on our own terms.

More to follow.