still Still Processing
Editor's Note: Galia first sent me this in May 2018. While she will no doubt be disappointed that I am posting this so late (as she is always up on the latest and a staunch self-critic), this is a great piece that deserves your attention. As perpetually late myself, I appreciate coming to things after they have become things. Reading through her contributions as part of this refurbishing, she is ALWAYS early.
I have a dear friend who has seen me intermittently throughout the past five months. During this period, I have been ensconced in the stages of grief over the loss of a meaningful relationship. In the aftermath, I have been doing all the “right” things: meditation, exercising, seeing friends, making art, getting leg surgery (as one does), reading a ton, visualizing Meghan Markle levels of luck, etc… for a long while it was all bad days, and I still have some bad days, but sometimes I have the brief reprieve of a good-bad day, and even a few outright good days here and there. Real talk: Elizabeth Kübler-Ross didn’t tell me it would be this hard.
Anyway, on one of these good-bad days I saw my buddy and he was like, “girl you have got to move on” and I’m all, “thanks for the insight.” The daunting reality of acceptance leaves me unmoored. Sometimes I feel like the past four years was some elaborate, hardcore LARPing and I’ve awoken from a bizarre coma. Anyway, my friend interrupts me while I was in one of my weepy states—*extremely Foreigner voice* “I want know what love isssssss… I want [redacted] to show me!!!”—and recommends that I listen to the podcast “Still Processing” from the New York Times.
Similarly to my fits of binge watching, hours spent embroidering, and marathon sessions of walking to SZA, I fell hard and fast for "Still Processing." I listened to all 68 episodes in about two and a half weeks. The show is hosted by Jenna Wortham and Wesley Morris and mostly covers the intersection of pop culture, politics, technology, and how we live in this crazy world. Both Jenna and Wesley are gay and black, and bring not only their incisive commentary to the weekly discussion, but also that very specific lived experience to the conversation, which feels vital to hear right now. [Editor's Note: Still is.]
In the past few weeks I’ve been able to lose myself for about 48 minutes at a time to Jenna and Wesley. While making breakfast, walking to work, inputting data, or getting ready for bed, they’re by my side, WTF-ing and unpacking everything that is happening around us. Jenna is new age-y and sweet, and Wesley is a bit of the wary skeptic, and each brings their own brand of thoughtful analysis to every argument from low- to high-brow topics. Recent episodes have talked about the politics of Oscar nominations, emotional labor, sexuality, Beyoncé at Coachella, and Justin Timberlake at the Superbowl (or, more specifically: how we all abandoned Janet). But one of the most interesting things for me, emotionally speaking, is travelling back in time with them over the course of my binge listening. The show began in September of 2016, and for a long time I avoided listening to the October and November episodes. It felt too grim, the dramatic irony of listening to Jenna and Wesley talk with cautious optimism because they are black Americans who know that the legacy of this country gives cause for doubt. And frankly, all of my memories of the past four years have been inextricably tied together with what is essentially now a specter and to revisit those days and nights of agony felt a little too masochistic even for a person who will literally walk 80 blocks to not have to get on the subway (and to keep up those step counts, y’all!!).
But one of the interesting byproducts of finally listening to those early and immediate post-election episodes was the realization that through all this tsuris, we have found solace and survival in the cultural landscape. Alongside the upheaval of my emotional life came hours of listening to Solange, and then I hear Jenna and Wesley routinely invoke A Seat at the Table and I think to myself that these are my people and I feel known. I’ve laughed with Jenna and Wesley, talked about the legacy of Whitney Houston, admired Rihanna, and rolled my eyes at that idiotic Bodega startup with them. I have a feeling that I’m not the only one who finds Jenna’s warm and frequent “mhmms” soothing and Wesley’s animated exasperation reassuring.
So, I’m grateful to my friend who shut me up for a moment so that I could listen to these two for a while. I appreciate silencing the noise in my mind for a few minutes of the day. I am still processing, but I’m not alone anymore.
Galia Abramson is gonna to make it on her own (*hat toss*), and is also taking podcast recommendations.