This post dates from almost exactly five years ago, during NaNoWriMo, while writing a mere 50k word novel (more like a novella) which I am very appreciative to see being read and even enjoyed by a fellow blogger of much loved virtual acquaintance. The process of writing this short novel took me through some introspection that I hope will be helpful to others. It also makes me wonder about the role of community versus individual work on trauma recovery, and … I am a plotter, by the way! 🙂 Planning out the timeline and locations was enjoyable, and a bit cathartic, as I brushed the dust of the setting off of my feet, emotionally.
The tension between writing for myself and writing for others hangs over my head as I plan my current WiP (now, in 2020), rather far removed from this, my second NaNo novel, in 2015, in both time and mindset, given that I’ve escaped the situation that gave rise to this particular novel(la). Yet that tension between over-sharing of emotional elements vs. writing for an audience remains, as trauma leaves its indelible mark, in the themes that return over and over again, even when settings, genre, and characters are all different.
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Now I know why I avoid writing. And Frida’s story.
People came up to me after every production of that play to tell me how amazed they were, how I looked like the splitting image of Frida, and was I Mexican or Mestisa. Well, yes, as an African American of light skin with Cherokee blood, yes, I am technically a mestisa. And the splitting was happening in my own head (maybe more afa my roommates were concerned).
It’s not just to be more practical, find paying work, mend the shirts and weave a few more belts to give as birthday and holiday gifts. Those are all ‘legitimate’ reasons to avoid my writing, but I know deep down why I avoid it. Just as much as why I am compelled to write, anyway. On chapter 9 of my 50k word story, I feel the same pain, but emotionally mostly, that I felt when I played Fridah Kahlo in a community theatre for a few months. And I didn’t even have a speaking part. I just danced with furniture and la-la-lahed a bit. Nevertheless, by the end of the 6 week run, I was having back aches and depressions that made my roommates ask if acting was not a bad idea, and whether I had multiple personality disorder (sorry, now they call it Dissociative Disorder, which actually is more accurate…). And I had to ask if they were right.
Writing this damnable novella makes me feel like I am right back there, stomach cramps and all, and it is liberating yet terrifying at the same time. Can I now face what I was not strong enough to face then, and do it in a way that is not too terrible for others to read, even others who have not lived through such things? Can I write a book that other folks will actually want to read, yet that will move them so that they can understand the perspective of someone who grew up in various types of pain, and more importantly, so that they will be moved to want to learn more about how to help all of our society, by learning how to help all of us work through our individual and collective pain and help each human being reach his or her full creative potential? Can I overcome my own fear to even get to a place to really really want to do that, and then, can I do it?
Thanks for reading this, and even more thanks my friends, if you can add your pebble to building the new edifice that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr spoke of, when he said that the structure that produces poverty needs to be rebuilt.
Here’s to rebuilding, pebble by pebble,
let our mourning not be in vain,
Peace,
Shira
16.11.12015 HE
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I think that this post dates from the day after the Bataclan attacks, in Paris.
So, it turns out that I did finish writing the 2015 book, rewriting twice, then throwing out part of the third rewrite. More on my continuing striving with my thought next time, if you don’t mind?
Yassas, γεια σας! Salût ! Nos vemos! Görüşürüz! ! שָׁלוֹם
Action Items in support of community inclusion that you can take right now:
1.) Consider the dichotomy between individual trauma recovery (with the attendant need to share that trauma in order to feel heard) and community tranquility.
2.) Share your thoughts on the role of the community in helping trauma survivors to feel fully included in community with us in the comments, here, please.
(Did I mention that Universal Health Care with extensive early childhood severe trauma therapy would really help many individuals, and thus, society as well??)
Dear Readers, any additional ideas toward learning, especially multiple #LanguageLearning as part of on-going education and empathy-building, to #EndPoverty, #EndHomelessness, #EndMoneyBail & achieve freedom for All HumanKind?
Support our key #PublicDomainInfrastructure & #StopSmoking for CCOVID-19:
1. #PublicLibraries,
2. #ProBono legal aid and Education,
3. #UniversalHealthCare, and
4. good #publictransport
Read, Write

NaNoWriMo 2020 CE
November, 2020 CE = 12020 HE
(The previous lesson plan since this post, and the most recent lesson plan…)
Shira Destinie Jones by ShiraDest is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
I started reading your book. Have to go back to the kitchen now, but I will get back to it later, when I can give it the full attention it deserves.
Much love,
D
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Cool, thank you, Dolly: which one? 🙂
Just joking, I assume you mean the NaNo novel referred to in this post, vs. the one I really want folks to read (Stayed on Freedom’s Call), which I probably ought to post about more often.
I hope that you find it enjoyable reading, but it not, please do not feel obligated to read the whole novel.
I hope that you had a good day, yesterday, and please accept my apologies for the delay in replying to your comment.
Much love to you as well,
Shira
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No apologies necessary, dear Shira. Yes, I am reading the one referenced in your post. I have been busy, though, with students using their weekend off to bombard me with questions, comments, and desperate end-of-semester pleas.
Big air hugs,
D
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Thank you, Dolly, and get your rest: I certainly recall student bombardment (even from other prof’s students!! 😦 -sorry).
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I’ll get my rest on Shabbos.
Shabbat Shalom, darling!
Love,
D
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Shabbat Shalom, Dear Dolly!
Love,
s.
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I doubt ‘society’ will ever have the generosity of spirit to accept people with PTSD. I realise, through experience, there are very few professionals who can deal with severe childhood trauma or even cases of assault in adulthood. One tends to despair of ever being heard and understood. A LOT of the responsibility for healing is put on the ‘victim’s’ shoulders. I am beginning to accept dealing with trauma can be addressed on a spiritual level. That excludes organised religion!!
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You’re absolutely right that victims do get blamed, very very often, both for the initial events and also for slow healing. And much of organised religion exacerbates the problem, true, but there are also parts, even of some org. religions, that help: witness my ancestors, for instance, both those who were enslaved up until the end of the US Civil War, and even those who were free before the war -they absolutely had to draw upon the faith provided by religion in order to survive. The Quakers bought and freed my 5xs gr grandfather (Miles Manzilla), so not all organised religion can be blamed. There are also progressive streams of many religions currently working to build empathy and justice in this world -look at Abraham Joshua Heschel, who marched in Selma, Alabama, with the Reverend Dr. King. Both men were deeply religious, and that faith helped them do great and difficult things to make the world a bit better.
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I suppose there are exceptions in every instance.
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LOL!! 🙂 Yes.
I suppose that sometimes the exception proves the rule, yet even the Catholic church provided sanctuary to my Great Grandmother and her siblings after the murder of my gr. great grandfather, who’d described Catholicism as ‘a great evil from which the Negro people had at least been spared’ before his own kids end up converting in the orphanages! But my great aunt’s entrance into the convent enabled her to teach, to bring one brother and both sisters to safe haven (I presume that’s why they were in DC when she went to the Mother House in Baltimore), and even to leave a legacy for later generations to understand what happened to destroy a once prosperous Black family.
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Hm. I hear you. Some missionaries here in SA produced (produced?) … were able to develop and nurture some of the country’s greatest thinkers, amongst whom Steve Biko, let alone Nelson Mandela.
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Missionaries: I didn’t realize that -as educators?
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Many missionary schools were established. Perhaps one of the better things they did do!
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Fair enough, like the schools established by the Oblate Sisters of Providence where my great aunt taught.
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There is, of course, the argument that much of black culture went by the way as a result of the missionaries’ interference, but it clearly had its good side.
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I don’t think that Black culture was lost, initially, do to missionary efforts. It took time, other resources, and other interests to make that loss of culture happen.
At this point, given the destruction of both Black American (via The Middle Passage) and African cultures via colonisation, the work of the missionaries has to be seen as a mixed blessing: the extraction of value from Africa was happening, and the empirial powers (both European and Arab, then Ottoman) were too well placed, in a variety of ways to prevent the exploitation of divisions, even if fully uniting had been an option, so the only remedy once the stripping of resources was complete was the missionaries.
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pebble by pebble: with education comes eventual acceptance and with reading comes empathy. That will happen one day, as long as we keep adding pebbles to the edifice of empathy.
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Having now finished Hubris and Hemlock, I can see why writing it was such a difficult process. I found the suicidal ideation in the later chapters a tough read and I can only imagine the process of writing. Still, an engaging story that kept my attention and I liked how the ending had a redemptive element that didn’t feel contrived. I hope the redemptive element is also based in real life.
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Thank you, again, JYP.
Sorry about the tough parts, which I tried to lighten a bit where I could, via Marie. I’m really glad it was still egaging. Unfortunately, the ending chapter was entirely wishful thinking, as the book was aimed at people who apparently never did and never will read it. While the problem issues of chapter 17 and 18 were real, the events and personages were not. Well, Marie is based on someone in my life from when I was very young, so I used that memory to construct a helpful friend and write an outcome that I’d hoped to be possible. Unfortunately, ma belle famille ne m’aimait point, et donc cette espoire ettait un mensonge, mais, j’avais eu l’espoir de qu’ils puent lire le livre et rendre-t-ils compt du gravité du probleme, mais ils n’avaitent pas fait, et donc il m’a fallu fuir du pays en lessant toutes mes choses la-bàs sauf mon ordi.
A friend of a friend did play part of the role of Marie, remotely, in encouraging me to leave, which helped tremendously when I did so.
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😦 😦 😦
Je n’ai pas les mots en français ou en anglais, sauf *Hugs* (virtuels et sans danger par l’ordinateur, bien sûr !) J’espère que tu as créé une famille ou une communauté pour toi.
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Merci, JYP. Non, pas encore, mais j’apprends vivre avec la solitude, et pour le moment, ça me va. Il me semble que je tiens mieux avec cette isolement que la pluspart des gens, cars, ça m’epargne d’avoir affair avec le monde. Je rests chez moi et je suis en sûreté dans ma chambre. Pour l’instant c’est bien, et j’ai commencé a me chercher ou m’en vas avec mes épargnes.
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After months of thinking of how Grandma Marie would have
(and I see that the link in ch. 18 can’t be copied and pasted: https://www.wikitree.com/wiki/Nash-3390 ), reacted, and realizing that that redemptive ending was just not going to happen, I decided that I had too much potential to contribute to let myself die in a cold damp house in Brittany, and that she’d have been both furious and disappointed with me, just like the Marie I created in H&H, so I made an exit plan and called a friend back in DC to coordinate.
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Naming the friend character in H&H after your Grandma Marie sounds like a fitting tribute. Sounds like you created your own redemption in a way by doing what you had to do and leaving.
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Thank you, that’s what I think, too. At least now I have a chance to write a decent story for myself. I just wish that Judaism had some sort of a monastic tradition. Like my great aunt, who became a nun and teacher, I wish for some order where I can live with others who want to do Tikkun Olam.
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That would be really cool actually. One downside of Judaism being such a family centric religion is the focus on family really leaves out a lot people not living in that household/family structure who want to be an active part of the community. I think the way singles/childless/childfree people get treated in too many Jewish communities is really unfortunate.
I’m totally picturing a monastery similar to Sister Act with Whoopi Goldberg leading the choir because I have no frame of reference for this, but you have to admit, a Jewish version of that with Tikkun Olam focus and that music would be kind of awesome.
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It totally would be! 🙂 I’ve been trying to think of ways to start a secular abbey or convent for years, but it’s not really a practical idea without land, money, contacts and a lot of extrovert energy, at least at first, I imagine.
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Thank you again, btw, for reading it and for your feedback. It makes a tremendous difference for me, and I appreciate it.
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Thank you for sharing your story. Not an easy story to share (or live through, for that matter) and it takes a lot of courage to share that.
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Thank you, for reading it and for sharing your thoughts with me. That helps me, and I appreciate it, as it’s not easy for you, either.
Todah Rabah and Hugs!
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Bises, mon amie!
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Merci ! Bises a toi aussi, mon amie !
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