Dear Beloved,
The first thing that comes to mind is, How are you? I mean, actually.
American English folds the question in on itself, tucking away genuine care or curiosity, and stuffs it into automatic, impersonal social niceties. “How are you?” a coworker might ask on Tuesday morning at the office. “Good,” you’re supposed to say. Or fine, or alright, or getting by.
Just getting by.
Sometimes, that’s all we can do.
When I first started studying languages, I was struck by how uncommon that question was as part of a casual greeting. In other languages, you ask “How are you?” and you mean it.
Here in the United States, as we nosedive into authoritarianism, there is an added weight to this question. There is a pause after someone asks this question. So much is said when we look at each other, tasting the unspoken in the air, before the asked tells the asker, “Fine,” like a surrender.
Beloved, I need you to know: When I ask you this question, when I ask how you are, I mean it. I really, really mean it.
Walk down the street of any city, any afternoon, and look around you. What you've got to remember is what you're looking at is also you. Everyone you're looking at is also you.
- James Baldwin
Today, I write to you from a tired and worn place. My heart is a worry stone, rubbed smooth by my thoughts. Lately, I’ve woken from nightmares or too-soon from dreamless dark sleep.
Waking every day is a practice. Hoping in the face of horrors is a practice. Writing this little letter to you, week by week, is a practice.
A practice for a better world that I’m helpless to build on my own. That’s why I look to you, Beloved.
Call to Action: Free Des!
Des is a tattoo artist, a PoC anarchist, an immigrant, a longtime vegan, and deeply loved by his community.
On July 4th, comrades staged a noise demo outside of the ICE Prairieland Detention Center in Texas. What was a typical pro-immigrant protest turned into a massive federal investigation, with 16 defendants now facing criminal charges. Here’s the thing: Des is not one of the 16 defendants. He wasn’t even there!
Yet Des has been charged with evidence tampering and obstruction of justice related to the Praireland defendants. The evidence? A box of zines that Des was supposedly moving in his truck two days after the noise demo.
Now Des is behind bars in a federal prison and is also on ICE hold. The framing of Des’s case by the federal government should worry all of us. It is a thinly veiled attempt to crack down on resistance, even in the form of written words within a zine.
Stand in solidarity with Des and all of our political prisoners! Here’s how you can support:
Write Des a letter of support.
Don’t mention anything about the charges or the case. All letters are read, scanned, and catalogued by prison staff.
Include Des’s first name, last name, ID number, page numbers, date, and return address at the top of each page.
Write in blue or black ink.
No stickers, glitter, or tape. Do not draw on the envelope.
Daniel Rolando Sanchez Estrada
#55099-511
FMC Fort Worth
Federal Medical Center
PO Box 15330
Fort Worth, TX 76119
Print and distribute Zines Are Not a Crime. This zine talks about Des, his story, and encourages readers’ support.
Host a letter writing party for Des. This zine is a good primer on prisoner letter writing & support, as is this article, for people new to this work.
Seeds for Change
Gather with trusted people and talk through this toolkit for Mapping Community Ecosystems of Collective Care and check out this worksheet
A street protest without clear demands is just a block party. Read & share the Protest Playbook to orient your action.
Check out A Good Public Library by
and check out their newsletter for ways you can protect your own local library.
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🌱 Questions? Email aleksanderaleksander@substack.com
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