I was so excited for my holiday plans. We were going to do a long drive, bring mashed potatoes and cookies, catch up with people I don’t see often, play some tabletop, and snuggle my partner post feast-and-DnD. Mindful of the fact that we’re in flu season and still in a pandemic and I’m trying to travel responsibly and health concerns of other family members, I asked about their COVID precautions.
And let’s just say, they fell short.
There is still enough in me to be extremely disappointed. Because I thought they’d be better, for their ailing parents. For their children. For their loved ones. For complete strangers who can’t protect themselves as well, for health or other reasons– but as we’ve seen that part is just too hard for most people.
For the fact that COVID is still around, still serious, and still something to consider.
So today, I don’t know what we’ll be doing instead. I’ll just grab stuff to cook and wine to drink while I cook and just wing it with my own loved ones. The ones that still give a shit about this whole pandemic thing, anyway. And I’m going to go ahead and assume Christmas will be the same way.
So, uh, Happy Thanksgiving. Or as I like to call it, Happy “Surround Yourself with Loved Ones and Celebrate Another Year Surviving This Colonialist Hell” Day. Stay safe. Mask often. Get your boosters. Test a lot. Still take COVID seriously.
THE HOLIDAY KWANZAA is a product of creative cultural synthesis. That is to say, it is the product of critical selection and judicious mixture on several levels. First, Kwanzaa is a synthesis of both Continental African and Diasporanl (sic) African cultural elements. … Secondly, the Continental African components of Kwanzaa are a synthesis of various cultural values and practices from different Continental African peoples. … And finally, Kwanzaa is a synthesis in the sense that it is based, in both conception and self-conscious commitment, on tradition and reason.
https://www.officialkwanzaawebsite.org
KuchuQwanzaa is in large part based on the traditional Kwanzaa holiday, but seeks to infuse queer ideology, principles, and values to establish a space for Black LGBTQIA+ folks to celebrate our unique culture, history, and contributions. In the spirit of inclusivity, we invite anyone who shares the core principles of KuchuQwanzaa to celebrate it.
https://www.kuchuqwanzaa.com/about
So after Christmas, we go straight into Kwanzaa. It begins on the 26th of December and it ends on New Year’s Day. Kwanzaa is a holiday created by a Black American man in order to celebrate our heritage, culture, and ancestors. In addition, KuchuQwanzaa was created with these same goals in mind, but to also honor our Black LGBTQ expression. Both incorporate libations, candles, gift giving and food.
For these seven days I reflect on the principles of Kwanzaa and KuchuQwanzaa. I think about what each means to me and how it manifests in my life, and how I can keep them in mind for the future.
(I have also tooted daily via Mastodon; you can check out the #AlbisKQwanzaa tag for the topmost posts for the longer threads.)
The First Day
Umoja
“Unity,” the Principle for the first day of Kwanzaa. This was an “easy” one to reflect on, and an excellent start to this holiday (considering how online I tend to be)… my immediate thought was BlackMastodon, BlackTwitter, BlackFediverse. We find each other and support each other, pushing back against the typical whiteness of most online platforms. As Twitter burns, it has been uplifting to see so many of us on Mastodon. I may stick around this time.
Imani
KuchuQwanza has two Principles on the first day: in addition to Umoja, it also has Imani, or “Faith.” My initial thought was to assume faith meant the religious sort, and I believe my initial thought to be erroneous. And if not, well– I’m not the religious sort anyway; I strive to at least be spiritual despite my casual relationship to it for the moment.
I have faith in myself (I generally do the right thing), my people (though, cynic that I am, my faith in people takes a hit when confronted with misogynoir and queerphobia– but is generally restored when it is called out and abolished), and the natural world. I also hope to honor my ancestors in how they interpreted the forces of nature and their gods, be it observing the holidays or practicing herbalism.
The Second Day
Kujichagulia
“Self-Determination,” or why I hate the “we don’t need labels!” or “we’re all human!” rhetoric. Our differences make us who we are, and labels can further define yourself on your own terms. I am Black, Queer, Transgender. Some labels are “given,” but I have chosen the rest.
I also reflect on the representation of our people, and not just us being mere “tokens.” I am here, and I exist, and you will hear me. Everyone contains multitudes and different aspects of themselves; Black people not a monolith. When Whoopi Goldberg saw Nichelle Nichols as Uhura on the screen, it opened so many possibilities for her. We can also be “these things,” despite the overculture trying to tell us otherwise. And that is still important today.
AFYA
The world is tough enough as it is, so we also have to take care of our bodies and mental health. I’m glad to see that the stigma for therapy and medication is waning– but we can still work on this. The queer community is still recovering from the AIDS crisis, and I still hear negative comments about getting help for what’s ailing your brain.
Get tested, and often, especially if you have multiple partners. Eat your vegetables, take walks, turn off the news and stop doomscrolling when it becomes too much. All these are things that I do within the KuchuQwanzaa Principle of AFYA, or “Health.”
The Third Day
Ujima
“Collective work and responsibility.” I’ll be very blunt here: If your pro-Blackness dehumanizes the further marginalized, it’s fucking trash. I also found it fitting that this was the day I discovered KuchuQwanzaa– LGBTQ voices and celebrations must be uplifted. This is our work, and our responsibility.
Nyumba
It literally means “house,” and houses, to me, mean family and community. Our relationships to each other help sustain us, past and present. Every interaction accumulates to a “I see you:” from The Nod as you walk past a stranger, to commenting support on a post, to giving your mom a call and (not maliciously!) pestering your sibling.
The Fourth Day
Ujamaa
Black Capitalism ain’t gonna save us– it’s still Capitalism. If we’re still trampling each other to make money, that is the capitalism machine working just as intended. Buy Black (sites like Miiriya makes this easier!), participate in mutual aid, gas up your friend’s Etsy shop!
Elima
I did not know about KuchuQwanzaa until this year! So, I found it fitting to mention that on the fourth day of this holiday– the Principle is Elimu, or Education. In a world where LGBTQ folks are still being persecuted, I find it very important to highlight not just our struggles, but to celebrate our contributions to communities and culture.
The Fifth Day
Nia
“Purpose.” I am reflecting on– what is my purpose in life? To be supportive, confounding, to call out bullshit, and eat cookies and cream ice cream, and to exist. It sounds pretty simple, but I’ve mostly made peace with the fact that I don’t need something grand for my day-to-day. And that is enough.
“Just existing” in each of our varied truths may not sound much for a purpose, but for Queer people it is the whole world. We have lives beyond someone else’s moral lesson, or a tragic Netflix movie, or a sensational headline.
I’ve also personal projects and yeah, that is purposeful. I have my writing and poetry– a good purpose, indeed! I am trying to get into more VTubing and gaming, too.
The Sixth Day
Kuumba
I’ll take this moment to talk about some of my favorite creative works.
Creativity begets more creativity and inspiration, and there’s something special about holding The Memory Librarian in my hands after the last word was read.
As I’ve mentioned in length in the post about my vtubing, I am a huge fan of Janelle Monae. Some other musicians that I have on repeat are:
Breezewax
Flying Lotus
Lalah Hathaway
Lil Nas X
Mega Ran
Princess Nokia
Sammus
And a lot of stuff from Back in the Day, like Living Color, The Isley Brothers, Toni Braxton, TLC…
And some of my favorite books are:
Anything by Nnedi Okorafor; her Binti series was my first read into her work.
How to be Black by Baratunde Thurston
Falling in Love with Hominids by Nalo Hopkinson
The Lilith’s Brood (aka Xenogenesis) series, also by Octavia E. Butler
Mind of my Mind (2nd in the Patternist series), also by Butler
Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred D. Taylor
SLAY by Brittney Morris (psst, you can play the game!)
TRIGGER by Venus Selenite
While we’re on the subject of books, The StoryGraph has Nadia Odunayo, a Black woman, as founder and CEO!
Sistah SciFi highlights science fiction from Black and Indigenous people.
I also have several pieces of art from GDBEE hanging around my room.
The Seventh Day
Dhidi Chuki and Kiasiasa Utambulisho
For Kwanzaa’s final day of celebration and reflection, we have Imani. Since I’ve reflected on it previously, I will focus on the two final principles for KuchuQwanzaa: “Against Hate” and “Politicized Identity.”
I walk into a room and I am assumed I’m “political” for just existing. So I might as well own that. Yup, I exist and I’m proud. AND WE’RE GONNA TALK ABOUT MY POLITICS ALL DAY, BABY. And hurt the feelings of Nazis and well-meaning allies in the process. Hate comes in all sorts of forms. Some are REALLY OBVIOUS, while others are more insidious and subtle. The ally that tells me to not be one of “those f-slurs?” They get binned. And the other one who shushes me when I say I’m Black and I’m Proud? Binned and set on fire.
I may not have much choice in how I’m politicalized, but I’ll be damned if someone thinks I’m “doing it wrong” and treat my existence as an inconvenience.
And that is all for my reflections for last year’s Kwanzaa and KuchuQwanzaa. I’d like to do the same for this year, and reflect again to see where I stand.
Usually I’m all about the bare minimum of setting things on fire (or fireworks), getting drunk, and throwing some beef bullshit on a grill. I was never one for all that gross patriotism with the flags and USA is Gr8 stuff, anyway. But I can’t bring myself to do it this year.
The 4th of July was always like Thanksgiving for me– it’s not a holiday for me or my people, not really. It was just another day to celebrate surviving this fucking farce of a country with the people you love, in spite of it doing its very best to kill you. Another passive day, just slightly different. Probably more food.
I just can’t see the little good in our country today.
And I just cannot muster the strength to even acknowledge my strength that got me here today. Because I am so, so fucking tired. The feeling of “it does not get better” is beginning to seep into my bones. It may very well be there already.
So, yeah. My cynicism and depression are too high today, and the constant background-process grieving is too much to be distracted by sparklers. I’m sure y’all understand.
Now go and read Frederick Douglass’ speech about the 4th of July. This is all I got.
It’s the last day of the month, so I suppose I address two topics: National Coming Out Day and Halloween(ish). I’ve been thinking about the latter, and the former will be scheduled over the weekend.
All’s (s)hallow
Perhaps it’s because I’m finally on my upswing, but I went above and beyond on my costuming– or at least getting dolled up, and at least, compared to how I usually roll. I rarely indulge in creativity in my outfits beyond a silly headband, mismatched earrings, and a smart-ass graphic tee.
I couldn’t help but get caught up in the festivities and excitement. So I managed a wig, new headband, tights (which I actually regret, but they’re still cute), an outfit from the thrift store, and even a bit of makeup.
Consider this premise: tonight is the time we actually take off our costume and present our innermost self… how we see ourselves.
Maybe I am glitter and rainbows. Perhaps I’m some weird thing that wiggles antennae while wobbling in heels and you’ll just have to guess what I am, exactly. Possibly, I’m a fun meme. I am cute– hot, even. My eyes are alluring. My gender still non-existent, but still valid beneath the long synthetic hair. I am bright. I am. I am.
I wish I had the energy to do that more often.
I clean up nicely.
All Hallows
The sugar rush eventually ends, and I peel off the brightest layers of myself and return them to their inner rooms. For now. But I become somber. Death is a little bit closer than usual, and I generally associate October with endings as well.
It’s when the candles are no longer just for ambiance; I light them on my altar and think about my ancestors and those who are no longer with us.
I leave his favorite candy bar on the white tablecloth.
It’s when I ruminate on relationships and partnerships that I’m no longer participating in, for whatever reason.
I miss them and I mourn and I remember.
And I wonder. What impression would I leave behind, if any? How would I be remembered? How would I want to be remembered?