I’m reading Chanel Miller’s memoir, and I don’t know what music to listen to.
I bought the book, Know My Name, tonight, while my partner was out at rehearsal—I hadn’t realized it was out yet, I should’ve preordered, I was supposed to grade papers but instead I blazed a trail to the New Releases section of Barnes & Noble—and burned through the first five chapters in just over three hours, which seems lightning fast for some but is painfully slow compared to my normal pace. I’m taking my time with it on purpose, the way I try to anytime I know a book is going to change my life, like I’ve been doing with Rebecca Solnit’s Men Explain Things To Me, which I’ve coveted for years but stumbled upon in a five-hundred-square-foot shack of a bookstore near Monterey this summer.
The Solnit book is a collection of essays, and it’s easy to break into weeks. Know My Name is a memoir full of little detours and side stories that color the broader narrative arc, so it’s harder to put down. If I didn’t have to be in Paradise Valley at 7:30am tomorrow, I’d stay up until 3am or so and read straight through. But my first alarm is set for 5:45, and I knew I’d only make it so far before I needed to call it a night.
Still, I’m scrolling Spotify trying to find something that it makes sense to listen to in the wake of those first five chapters, and nothing fits.
Continue reading “Know My Name” and the Complexity of Post-Assault Relationships
As I sat down to draft this week’s blog post, I found myself at a bit of a loss. What could I possibly write, I wondered, that could follow what I’ve put out in the last two weeks? See, I never plan for my writing to reach very far beyond my own circle of friends, family, and fellow artists. When it does, that’s exceptional, but I’m always left with the same question: what do I write about now? Because as much as I love drum corps, this isn’t about to turn into an all-DCI blog. I’m still going to write about every genre of music and performance as it intersects with my creative practice and my identity. But what do I write to follow something so big?
The answer, I think, is something small. This week, friends, we’re not challenging major institutions and their power structures. We aren’t talking about Title IX or Phantom Regiment or schools who turn a blind eye to sexual, physical, and emotional abuse of students by their private teachers. This week, we’re looking inward at ourselves. And a lot of times, that’s scarier, because we are inherently imperfect humans. We’ve all hurt people to extents we may not fully realize. But we don’t grow as a community unless every single one of us is doing this work, so it’s time to be brave.
Continue reading Critique Doesn’t Land Without a Lot of Background Reading (so here’s a list)