a crisp peace

On the eve of the inauguration of Barack Obama, the ghost-like presence of my need to write lingered in my space. For three days I partied until 4:00 am; there was a Bush effigy, visiting with Ohio 2004 folks, early morning meals and a large concert on the mall. DC had briefly morphed from a culture of professionals tackling structural unpleasantries to well, just a big party. But on Martin Luther King Day, the eve of the inauguration, in the air circulated quietness. An absence of anxiety. A blatant peace. It seemed as if the laborious commitments that led this movement to this moment had gone on Sabbath. It was lovely.

a narrative i can't seem to tell. right now.

In the past several weeks, I have made so many notes of things I desire to write on:

- Senator Kennedy’s words at the DNC convention, “And this is the cause of my life -- new hope that we will break the old gridlock and guarantee that every American -- north, south, east, west, young, old -- will have decent, quality health care as a fundamental right and not a privilege. We can meet these challenges with Barack Obama. Yes, we can, and finally, yes, we will. Barack Obama will close the book on the old politics of race and gender and group against group and straight against gay.”
- The journey, comforts, and dismay of my summer.
- The displacement of a million people in Haiti because of storms and flooding.

But I am weak and uninspired, and incapable of writing. I would rather be numb. I watch TV now. Passionate note-taking no longer leads to actual writing. Stress does not translated into motivated creations. The constant cerebral stimulation and scholarly shallowness have been replaced with a shallow Capote-style cocktail party conversation with the same people, and a holding pattern 18 hours a day inside an apartment on 16^th Street.

The most live things in my sphere of physical life are the presence of the white house at the end of this street, and playing tennis, nearly a week ago. My first in a year. Neither of which have a sustainable or survivable presence in this storm of limbo.

I want nothing more than to write, and think, and cite, and feel, and love, and encounter the textures of this life, most intimately. However, those textures became all-too close in Haiti, and after, I had to retreat, and recover. I am going home to California for a couple of weeks.

“What are you writing?” I made a mistake and asked.
“I am writing the best I can. Just as you do. But it’s so terribly difficult.”
“You shouldn’t write if you can’t write. What do you have to cry about it for? Go Home. Get a job. Hang yourself. Only don’t talk about it. You could never write.”
-Ernest Hemmingway, A Movable Feast

and at the National Zoo the sign says "no feeding the animals"

Comment Card
Harris Teeter, 16th and Kalorama
Dear General Manager:

When I moved to DC in 1997 I did not even know where 16^th and Kalorama was. Today while in town to visit a friend in the apartment building next door to your new store, I was excited to go in and spend around $7.50 on a package of strawberries, $8.00 on a wedge of brie, and $3.00 for a bottle of sparkling water to wash everything down. However my sentiments quickly changed upon walking up to the door of your store. On it is a sign: “No panhandlers or Loiters. Customers, please do not contribute to panhandlers on premises.”

I was so offended by this sign that I almost turned around and walked away. But then I quickly remembered that the only other full, non-specialty grocery store in the area is what is known as- - or at least used to be known as - - “the Socialist Safeway” over on Columbia Road. The nickname comes from the long lines and lack of food inside.

Your sign is obnoxious first and foremost because it presumes a harm done by, or reason for suspicion caused by, the poor in this neighborhood in Washington, DC. How DARE a corporation that OPENLY charges over 500% for a loaf of bread claim that the poor man, woman, or child standing out front of the store is a danger or problem! Corporations like Harris Teeter are the problem. You came into this neighborhood to cash in on and perpetuate what is clearly irresponsible gentrification. I should be suspicious of you, not those in the neighborhood harmed by you.

Secondly, it offends me that you would tell ME what to do with MY OWN money. If I wish to contribute to a beggar, that is my business, not yours.

Finally, I suggest that you remove the current sign and replace it with one inviting beggars inside for a discussion about how Harris Teeter can assist members of this community who continue to struggle. I also suggest that you provide free meals to the poor three times a day. If you would like to speak with me further about these ideas, I am available until June 5^th and have included my phone number at the top of this card.

With serious concern,

Kate Burke