The Fires, Ancestor Octavia Butler & Ancestor Ruth "Lib" Wright
First, I’m thinking of everyone in Los Angeles right now. And, no kidding, as I started writing this, I got a text from a dear loved one who I’ve been checking on since the fires began.
“My daughter just got an alert to be prepared to evacuate.
This is getting crazy. LA IS BURNING.”
We knew that the failure to address climate change, militarism, and the capitalist greed that drives it would lead us here eventually*. But that doesn’t make it any less heavy or heartbreaking especially knowing that in every disaster we have experienced, the most vulnerable are hit first and hardest.
While the LAPD is busy investigating the cause of the fires (aside from climate change???) and arresting people on suspicion of looting, and political mud is being slung from right to left, mutual aid networks are busy organizing material support for working class LA as coverage of burning mansions dominate legacy media. (See Mutual Aid Network Los Angeles, a connector and information hub for mutual aid efforts, people and resources across LA and Displaced Black Families GoFund Me Directory for ways to help as you are able.)
*Ancestor Octavia told us….
But there’s more than nailing the details. Within the pages of her work, and in the pages of the works inspired by her, lie kernels of wisdom with which to plant new seeds, create deeper bonds with each other, and elevate indigenous wisdom. That’s why we thought it was important to start the Emergent Strategy series in this season of Toward Liberation. I guess we knew. Or rather we listened.
I’ve been listening to and for the wisdom of Ancestor Octavia Butler, and my Grandma, Ruth Lib Wright. It’s no accident she keeps appearing in so many of my thoughts and has been referenced heavily in my writing. She’s been reminding me of the communal care that is important now and will be increasingly in the days and years to come. I wrote about this on her birthday.
Ode to the Culinary Alchemist, Ancestor, and Grandma, Ruth “Lib” Bundles Wright | January 1, 2025
Lately I’ve been spending a lot of time in the kitchen Obsessed with making everything from scratch Now I want to learn how to do everything the slow way Before, something unholy kept me believing I didn’t have time But these days I’m drawn to (try to) cook like you So I’ve been spending a lot of time in the kitchen Where I always think of you Navigating my way around the cramped space It’s smaller than the kitchen I had in Texas But way bigger than yours 1853 S. Keystone, that legendary site of culinary alchemy Everything from scratch The measurements of cakes lived in your head No Google to guide you Nor timers to make sure you didn’t burn them Lately I’ve been forgetting to set timers myself Yesterday I got a quick feeling to take the rice off the stove Then the cornbread from the oven The rice just right, the cornbread golden Just in time Since I’ve been spending a lot of time in the kitchen I hope that means I’m getting closer to you Even though you’ve been gone so long Your voice echoes in a long line of offspring Who keep your sayings alive I quote you often these days “There’s just no end to ‘em” That five word phrase, a searing analysis Of what you saw during your lifetime From injustice (when they took your kids) To all the ways people didn't care for others Like you did In the pans, emerging from the tiny oven In the pots, bubbling on the stovetop Sitting in jars in the cramped hallway between the kitchen and back room You turned the harvest of your garden into Chow-chow to grace the Great Northern beans in the winter months You knew how to love Made sure And Lord knows, Lord knows how Everybody had enough to eat at your house Children always served first Your ethos centered in care Food your canvas You taught us who and how to be Unselfish, giving Allergic to wasting and throwing away Whether food or people Food your canvas, your vehicle Lately I’ve been spending my Sundays cooking And my Saturdays shopping for the week Now I have a route of stores, too Aldi’s then Shoprite then Trader Joe’s Sometimes the meat market in Camden, sometimes Costco Eggs are $2.50 at Aldi’s so I start there I think of you as I spend those afternoons driving around How you would send us with your lists whenever Cousin Frances couldn’t drive you To Kroger’s for butter, Preston Safeway for eggs Sometimes Marsh but only when chicken or hamburger was on sale Marsh was too high you said, Acme is my Marsh Everything costs more there You stretched a dollar like elastic Cause there were a lot of mouths to feed And at 1853 Everyone was going to eat You made sure This morning I made oatmeal just before the sky started showing off its light Steel cut oats, cinnamon, vanilla, butter, nutmeg Made the long way, the slow way I never saw you make oatmeal But I know I made it like you would have With love Making sure the people in my house had something warm to eat On a cold day Even though I won’t eat much of it, if any I think of how many times you cooked that way For others not yourself Lately I’m drawn more and more to your craft Communal care concocted on the stove I’m practicing my own alchemy now, Grandma Continue to guide me. I love you. Happy Birthday in Heaven! What an inheritance to begin each new year with you on my mind.
Let us know your thoughts as you’re reading Emergent Strategy! And feel free to shoutout an ancestor(s) who is meeting you in this moment in the comments.
Register today for our Zoom call on Thursday, January 30, at 6pm ET. We'll be back next week to share more as we continue to explore Emergent Strategy.
In the meantime, take good care of yourself and each other.
connease
This is so beautifully written, little c.
At times, society tries to make us feel like communal "roles" are wrong, but I love "Making sure the people in my house have something warm to eat on a cold day." Our ancestors are proud of us, and in their honor, I shall continue to move about this earth as if they were walking right alongside me. All of us, together, watching the sky start to show its light.