When I was teaching writing to curious, wide-eyed adolescents, I used to tell them that they would never write anything if they were always waiting around for the perfect inspiration or a piece they loved.  I have sat at this computer countless times over the past year trying to figure out what in the world I want to do with this blog.  I’ve “trashed” dozens of pieces and, to be perfectly honest, I’ve almost deleted the site entirely.  

Simplexity319 was “born” in a different time, of a different me. A time when my writing felt like action. A time when Eli and I were navigating how we would choose to build our family.  And we chose to share our journey–with personal stories, the mistakes we made, and things we had learned.  In doing so, it has given me a lot of time to reflect on our journey in the past almost six years.  To say I would do nothing different is just stupid–of course I would.  I know so much more now.  I see the world differently.  And when you know better, you do better.  

So, bottom line, if I choose to continue this blog it’s gonna look a whole lot different.  It will no longer focus solely on adoption.  I shared some of my story, but I refuse to put out, anymore than I already have, about my kids’ and their journey.  It’s not my story and journey to tell.  It’s theirs.  I will leave up most past blog posts (as cringe as they may be) because I believe wholeheartedly in keeping up information so that others can learn from my stumbles and falls.

What will Simplexity319 look like now?  I’m not really sure, and if you’d like to stick around for the ride, I’d love to have you along.  Like most of my writing, it typically comes pretty organically and evolves from there–a stream of consciousness, if you will.  I’d like to be more intentional about writing. And continuing to blog will hold me accountable.  I enjoy interacting with others through reading and writing, so I hope to do that with many of you.

This year has really been a different year for me because “ME” has really evolved.  I’ve been discovering a new me. Identity shifts and evolves as one changes, as life experiences mold our soul.  And in the course of this year, I’ve never felt more reliant on myself and discovering a different version of myself. Is that the mark of really growing up? And that’s really what I want some of this blog to be–a piece of ME. My life experiences probably aren’t all that vastly different from your own; however, the neat thing about the human experience is that individual perspective makes things unique.  

So, just a quick introduction to who I am, and I hope in blogs to follow we will get to know each other better.  My name is Chelsea.  I was a middle school teacher for 13 years.  I love working with adolescents and teaching them the magic that can come from reading and writing, but more importantly how reading and writing can shape our lives.  I chose to take a small hiatus from teaching for numerous reasons, but the one I’m most proud of, was to stand up for what I really believe.  I am a mom to a 15 and 13 year old, but have only been a parent for a little over 2 ½ years. Parenting is a wild ride.  I’ve been married to my very best friend in the whole entire world for almost 15 years.  And the thing about our relationship is that we laugh and dance through almost anything. When he feels inclined, he may blog every once in a while too.  I lost my mom just over a month ago, and I’m navigating that experience, while appreciating that I was raised by one of the most amazing women this world has ever known.  I’m fiercely passionate about social justice and activism.  There is nothing better than a book that you can’t put down (just finished one in less than 24 hours).  And I think writing is so freakin’ amazing because you can choose to keep it just for yourself or to use it as a way to connect with the world.  Life is incredibly simplex, but it’s what we make of it, and I feel compelled to write about it. Have any good ideas for future posts?  I would LOVE to hear them.  Drop them in the comments. 

~Chelsea

Hey all!  It has been a long while since we have written a new blog post.  No real reason–life, a COVID year, being a teacher, a mom, a wife, all of the above.  This post is to really talk to you all–our friends, family, and followers–about how our blog will look in future posts.  Years ago…boy, I can’t even remember how long ago, we started Simplexity319 to share with all of you how we were planning to build our family–through adoption.  I’m proud of how we documented our journey; however, now looking back, some of our posts are super cringy (but hey, that’s learning and living), contain way too much information, and do not truly depict how we feel now as more educated parents and people.  

Now it is 2021.  We are the parents to two children, a 14 year old daughter and a 12 year old son.  We went through and are still going through COVID while parenting for a long time in more isolation than we ever thought we would.  

To say that we have learned a lot is an understatement. 

In the last year I have been what I like to call “stretched” rather than “pushed to my limit”.  

I taught face to face through a COVID year.

I learned how to be a parent during a global pandemic.

I had a husband who had an entire camp to be responsible for when much of his staff was furloughed.

But I grew.  

This year most recently I CHOSE to leave the job and school I love dearly and planned to retired from in the name of human rights, ethics, and what is best educationally for not just my children, but all children.

Tonight I told my children they wouldn’t be going back to the school that they barely knew but still loved.  They cried.  But they also knew why Mom and Dad made that decision.  

I’m so proud of them.  

So…what does our blog look like now?  It will probably involve stories about our basement filling up with sewage (yes, this happened), and me sitting on my bedroom floor writing or reading.  It will definitely involve weird camp stories, and some of the adorable, but annoying things our kids do. It won’t be focusing on our children’s personal stories.  It won’t be making them the poster children for older children adoption.  It will be “simplex”.  Just the stories and lessons of a former middle school teacher, a camp director, and their two beautiful children trying to do this thing called life as honestly as possible.

~Chelsea

Hey there…it’s been awhile hasn’t it?  Self care has NOT been in our routine, which is usually when writing came to me, writing is self-care for me.  To be honest I’ve thought long and hard whether or not I want to keep this blog site open.  Our renewal just came up…I truly thought of cancelling.  But I’ve always used this site as an honest look into what our lives are, without exploiting our family’s story.

Truth be told…I’m tired.  

Weary.

And I’m not looking for sympathy…

As an educator I had the privilege of listening to Cornelius Minor speak the other week, and it’s the first time in a long time I felt heard.  He talked about SO many things that were relevant to my life.  And it made me think how many people are not feeling heard and seen during these bizarre and turbulent times. There are other people who are living their best lives not caring who, how, when or why people are getting sick and/or disproportionately impacted by the mass inequality that has continued to plague our society .   Must be nice to be in the latter…

Legitimately I don’t know what I want this site to look like now, but I do know it won’t look like a “warm fuzzy” adoption story.  And it sure won’t be telling our kids’ stories.  Because their stories are theirs.  So where are we now? 

We are in a weird, but beautiful space.  We became a family in a God-forsaken pandemic.  Yeah, the time in isolation allowed for a time of deeper attachment, but let’s lay it out there…our situation is not normal.  My kids are learning what family means and so are we.  That point is beside any additional pandemic or circumstances.   With family members immunocompromised and aging, we choose to live our lives differently than others (more careful, more calculated…because it isn’t just the flu).  We’ve made decisions to keep us ALL as safe as possible, which means our lives look different.  I would love to give my children everything they have never had…guess what? That’s not our reality.   We are thankful to all those who pour into our children’s lives each and every day…what you do makes a HUGE difference.  

Let’s talk about the second (and first) pandemic affecting America.  We will talk about it because it is real in our and our childrens’ lives.  White supremacy is a real thing.  Honestly, I’m thankful for what this last year has revealed…I know exactly where certain  friends and family stand.  Ever hear the phrase, “Either you are for me or against me?”  Either you are for my kids and their Blackness or your are against it.  I’m at a point in my journey to become (and I say become, because I know I’m not there yet) anti-racist where I REFUSE to placate to uncomfortabilty.  So, no excuses.  I don’t care that “you don’t see color,” because you should.  Or that everyone “should be treated equal,” should they…let’s define equal.  Happy to learn alongside those who will listen.  Not HEAR me, actually listen.

We also need to learn from those who are willing to teach.

I will no longer sit silently in the face of “controversial conversations”.  

Black Lives Mattering is not controversial

Recognizing the systemic racism that plagues this country is not controversial

To call out the WORST president this nation has seen is not controversial

To show the hurt and damage that has been done by silencing “controversial” conversations is long overdue.  

So where will Simplexity319 be now?

It will show the intense beauty and love for this family I was blessed with, and for ALL people in this country, but it will not dim the conversations that are important.  

~Chelsea

What a year, huh?  The holidays are upon us.  Eli and I this weekend went through all of the photos we haven’t organized or developed in the last year.  The total…somewhere around 1500. 

We cried.

We laughed.

We were in awe.

It was almost a year ago that our children came home to us.  We have 1500 photos from this year…yet the stories are so much more. 

We have utter elation and complete pain.

We have celebrating holidays but recognizing losses.

We have a family, but a pandemic that keeps us from more of our family.

This is our story.

I can’t even describe what these photos say…to you they make look like a family that was so wanted.

A family who is celebrating.

Laughing.

Enjoying their firsts.

They are far more than that.  

I feel the weight, and let’s face it, the time constraints of raising a 14 and 11 year old.  I feel the pressure and fear of a virus that holds so many mysteries, that I’m exposed to daily, and that restricts us from holding near and dear “new friends and family”.  I am seeing, for the first time, through the eyes of my children.  My Black children how this country sees them.  As a threat.  As less than, when they are far more.  I embrace Black excellence, but feel the heaviness of a racist society.  

I’ve loved “showing” you my family.  I’m so proud of us, but it’s simplex. Society…you…love to see their “effort”.  The cute frog picture.  How “precious” they are.  But let’s face it…the simplexity of 2020 has shown it’s ugly face.

Racism was never gone.

Love just isn’t enough.

We can’t wait around for someone else to do something.

But…there is always hope.

We became a family this year.  I spoke out this year.  We learned about each other this year.  What a simplex year in review.  

~Chelsea

We are serious about COVID…and this weekend we were so excited to go and get lunch at a hipster place on a patio during an “off “ time donning our winter gear.  I needed the break.  I had been ill, not with COVID, but a cold, and getting out to something “normal” would feel good.  The kids felt otherwise.  It ended with an appetizer, some drinks, and going home angry.  And then me sobbing…on the lakefront…typing up my thoughts.

I’m not looking for sympathy.  But lately, my nerves are raw.  I think it’s a culmination of a lot of things.  I’m a new mom…that may be weird to process as my children are 13 and 11.  But yes, I’m a new mom.  Many of you know what it feels like to be a new mom…late night feedings, colic, and diapers. Bottom line…we have less time.  We try hard.  We are figuring it out…  Because our kids deserve it.  But I wake up to my 13 year old, trying to explain to her how to be a woman because she is “in it”…and I fall woefully short, explaining how to be a Black woman—this is where I lean on my friends, who are now family…Auntie, you know who you are. I explain to my son the importance of investing every ounce of his intelligence into his education, and keeping both hands on the steering wheel and his hood down.  I’m currently processing that while living in a pandemic.  I also happen to be an essential worker as a teacher during these times.  It’s trying to say the least.  Not the events, times we find ourselves in, but how deeply I feel things.  

I’ve always felt things deeply.  Almost to a fault.  We are in times where everything is magnified.  Where we are told to “agree to disagree” over basic human rights, human decency. Where “just suck it up and work like the rest of us” is slung at us as I bust my ass working through a pandemic.  

My nerves are RAW.

Lord, I am tired.

I’ve been a mom for 10 months.  

During a pandemic. 

 To two amazing, but pre-teen and teenage children.  

While we navigate a polarizing election.  

During a war on race,

As I work as a middle school teacher. 

 I need help.  

Self-care.  

To be honest…I’m not sure what that looks like.  I know many moms don’t know what that looks like, but I would say this is especially true of parents of older children through adoption.  Self-care goes out the window.  You don’t just have this little beautiful, baby to care for basic needs…you have a full child, human being, with thoughts, prerogatives, an entire history. 

It’s these moments that Eli and I lean into each other.  And boy are we leaning…his job, life, experiences, are no easier.  I am an emotional processor…and I have no time to process.  He is a doer and he has no time to do.  

So our “story”.  I’ve got two kids doing virtual school.  I’m a middle school teacher during a pandemic.  My husband is in crisis management and a shit show with his own job.  We are tired.  Completely normal and perfectly abnormal.  But my nerves are raw.  I can admit it.  

~Chelsea

Ever been “coal rolled?”  I have, and so has my family.  Flashback to last Saturday in Richfield, Wisconsin when we were eating outside.  I wasn’t holding a BLM sign, protesting, rioting, looting etc.  I was eating lunch.  Now before you get all defensive and tell me “maybe it wasn’t directed at you or your family,” or you say “maybe it’s just an asshole who does that to people outside,” or “maybe he was just accelerating”,  we were the only people outside, and I’ve eaten thousands of meals outside and it’s never happened to me, and it’s a 25 MPH zone in the middle of town.  A thick black cloud of smoke was meant to cover me and my family while we ate. (nothing at all against the restaurant, they were so kind and great food!)  You want to know why it happened?  It’s because I was sitting with 2 Black kids.  Two Black kids who will be far too soon in their lives seen as adults and then threats.  This is the world we live in.  If you don’t believe it happened because my children are Black, GTFO of my life.  Facebook and otherwise.  That’s not the lack of support I need for me or my family.  When a family can’t sit outside and enjoy a meal without being harassed it’s a sad world.  And I didn’t even mention the guy on the dirt bike who drove by 3 (yes 3 times) and stared us down.  Gee, I wonder why?

Growing up in Central Wisconsin I know all too well what bigotry and racism looks like.  Yeah, I know it exists all over…there are some areas worse than others.  Central Wisconsin is one of them.  What does that matter you may ask?  Well…I know a racist.  I know a bigot.  I know bias when I see it.  Coal rolling me and my family because we have Black children is all three of those things.  It is.   

Here is a message straight to you who did it or would do something like this.  Grow a pair.  Stop and have a conversation.  Look me in the eyes.  Look my Black children in the eyes.  Scared?  Because I’m not.  Do it.  Be better.  Come and have a conversation.  DON’T be a coward.  Yeah, I called you a coward.  Your conceal carry doesn’t make you a man (or woman), or tough.  Because that’s what you are, a coward. You are a coward.  I’m not shying away or backing down from you.  And I never will.     

You know what I’ve realized?  I’ve got cowards in my family who try to justify this.  I have cowards in my friend groups who try to justify this.  I see cowards online who justify this.  Enough is enough.  Bye.  You have no right to be in my life.  I’ll say it in a different way even.  YOU WILL NEVER HAVE A PART IN MY CHILDREN’S LIVES.  Do you get that?  That means don’t call, don’t write, don’t speak to me.  Like I said, if you want to have a conversation instead of justifying why “coal rolling” happened to me and my family I will do that.  If not GTFO.  (Google it if you don’t know what it means.) 

My children deserve a fair shot in this messed up world.  See their color, see their worth, see their good.  Don’t treat them like you “don’t see color.” Treat them like you do and you see a king and a queen who are capable of any and everything, like I do.  And like they should. 

 ~Eli

I have not blogged in so long.  I started blogging to reflect…as an outlet, but then life happened.  Kids happened.  A pandemic happened. I’m sure some of you have a “special way” to feel about me right now.  I’ve been “ranty” lately in social media…I call it passionate, protective.  I’ve been distant.  I haven’t been as quick to text back.  Because like many of us during 2020 I’ve been just keeping it together. Ready to buckle up?  This is going to be a long one.

My children came to me via adoption right before the New Year–2020.  They came to me as a beautiful 13 and 10 year old (now 13 and 11 year old). Beautiful, intelligent, kind, amazing…but they were essentially strangers.  We, all of us, worked hard to bond as a family.  We really nestled into the winter of 2020 to bond together and we did.  I’m so thankful that I have two amazing children who let me into their hearts and minds.  

Parenting through adoption is hard enough, but we knew it would be.  And we chose this.  We are navigating transracial adoption, adoption of older children, among just the sheer fact of being new parents. And then COVID-19 hit.  We had just transitioned our two children into school, and I’m a teacher, so this rocked our world in multiple ways.  We found ourselves navigating what many families were, but after only being together as a family approximately 4 months, this was different…but we did it.

Then George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, among others were murdered–shining a light on the second pandemic that has been ravaging our country since it’s foundation. Prior to adopting my children I was informed, what I considered an “ally”, but nothing could have prepared me for what it would feel to be a mother to two Black children in a moment like that. Sadly, prior to becoming their mom my privilege insulated me from fully feeling that. 

So here I am sitting…using this space to reflect and share.  Holy vulnerable.  But I think I have to share how we’ve changed, what we’ve been through, and why we are so adamant about the things we “preach”. Currently I’m scared…we are on the precipice of starting another school year.  I’m a middle school teacher with two middle school children and I feel scared.  There isn’t another way to put it.  I’m tired of things that are impacting my family being politicized.  My children’s life…my life should not be politicized. My kids need consistency and safety more than ever, but unfortunately that’s not the world we live in.  Safety is not prioritized over “freedom” right now.  That “safety” is deemed controversial.  I wake up everyday praying I’m making the right decisions.

My children are Black.  Some may think it is odd to note that… but I don’t think so.  That’s a huge part of who they are and may I tell you there is nothing worse than a white adoptive parent trying to deny their kids’ race, culture, ethnicity.  I try to speak up, educate, and influence as much as I can while not taking away from the voices that matter–Black voices.  In doing so for the advocacy of my children and my friends who are Black I have been blocked, told that they would request that their children not have me as a teacher, and just generally “iced” out. I’ve made tough decisions on my end as well–to limit contact, to unfollow, to not introduce my kids to certain circles, and to completely cut off ties if necessary.  I’m okay with this.  See my kids’ “blackness” never goes away.  You can’t support us and not “see” them.  Do you get what I mean by “see”? No, I mean do you really get it? Because if you did you would feel what I feel in the very pit of my stomach, which means you have some hard decisions to make.

So where are we right now? Getting by.  We are distant because we have to put our family first.  What can I tell you…I will fiercely protect my kids.  I am building a phenomenal village for my children and those of you who are in it know who you are.  This is not the time for nice sentiments.  It’s simplexly put, a time for radical change.

~Chelsea

I will walk alongside you.  I don’t expect you to get it all right.  But I do expect you to do better. I have messed up, will mess up, and am currently messing up. But I’m working to do better.  The level of white fragility that I have seen in light of recent events is mind-blowing…I’m sure it’s not mind-blowing to my friends of color.  God bless your patience.  I’ve been relatively outspoken…I’ve tried to engage, and when it’s no longer constructive or worth educating, have learned to move on. If maybe it were just me having a “hypothetical” discussion, I would allow that to happen.  But that isn’t my life. My kids and friends are too important. 

Can that be seen to some as “giving up”?  Sure…but I’ve worked hard lately to listen to the voices of Black individuals and people of color. I don’t have it all right.  I will mess it up time and time again, but I’m willing to draw a firm line. I’m willing to do the tough work…and I know that means “giving something up”.  Because to dismantle white supremacy means I will no longer benefit from it. I will not acquiesce to the voice of white fragility.  We need to be humbled.  To listen.  I am BEYOND appreciative of the Black voices that have been willing to pour into my and my family’s life.  It isn’t enough that I’m educating myself…my kids need mirrors.  They will not learn Black excellence from me…they will learn it because of the people, images, mirrors, that I surround them with. Why are we so willing to throw in our support to those who are already benefiting from our systemically racist society rather than support those who have been so harmed by it? 

So what does that mean…I will engage in thoughtful discussion.  I will shut up and listen when I need to.  I will help you in your “growing pains” as I go through my own “growing pains”.  But I will NOT try to rationalize wrong behavior at the expense of Black people.  I will NOT engage in harmful debate that goes nowhere.  I’m DONE empathizing with the oppressor when we refuse to truly sacrifice our supremacy and our privilege for the oppressed. 

So what does this have to do with adoption…what are you willing to do when you CHOOSE to adopt Black children? I’m willing to do EVERYTHING.  

~Chelsea

I’ve been struggling to find the words.  Struggling to use my voice while not drawing attention to myself as a white woman.  We’ve blogged infrequently upon bringing our 13 and 11 year old daughter and son home .  But there is nothing “simplex” about what’s going on in the world right now.  It’s pretty damn simple.  

It is astounding to me how many people can “pray” for my family.  Proclaim how great it is that my husband and I have adopted children…Black children.  But the irony is not lost on me that so many people talk about how “cute” my children are, send us well wishes, but find it too egregious to state that Black Lives Matter.  This isn’t a matter of politics.  Of differing opinions.  It’s a matter of morality. 

You followed our posts and offered support and for that I will be forever thankful.   But did you think my words were empty? I said it and I mean it…it isn’t enough to just love my children.  

We have to do more.  

You have to do more.

To be in my village you can’t merely think my kids are cute and stop there.  You MUST believe that their lives matter.  That Black Lives Matter.

They have been adopted by two white parents who can NEVER know what it’s like to walk around in our racist society with Black skin.  

So Eli and I MUST reaffirm EVERY. SINGLE. DAY that their LIVES matter.  That Black Lives Matter.  

 I want them to see that they are descendants of kings and queens.  That their Blackness is to be applauded, not hidden away.  I don’t EVER want them to dim who they are.

So I know some of you are angry with me.  And I’m okay with that.  I know that some of you will state that All Lives Matter…I can’t be a part of that.  I know that my words may offend.  I’m good with that. This is hard enough right now, but I certainly cannot do it without people who are actually supportive and can fully embrace my children. Beautiful, intelligent, creative, resilient, Black children.  But what I don’t know is what this country, our world will look like when my children are all grown.  And I will do ANYTHING to ensure that it is a hell of a lot better than what it is.  

My children are incredible and have enriched my life beyond my wildest dreams.  Their lives and all Black Lives Matter.   

So here is what I’m asking of you…to care.  Not just because of my children, but for all Black Lives.  Read a book, follow a “cultural guide”–an influencer so to speak (it’s pretty easy via social media), listen to the lived experiences of Black people. Expand your circle…your world.  Do better.  Do more. I know I sure am trying.  

Places to start:

White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo

Stamped From the Beginning by Ibram X. Kendi

How to Be An Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi

Me and White Supremacy by Layla Saad

I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness by Austin Channing Brown

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

~Chelsea

It has been a LONG time since we blogged last…so bear with me, this may be a tad long and a bit ranty.  To catch you up…our lives have continued to become more and more simplex.  Over four months ago our family grew from two to four.  We are now parenting two beautiful children–a 13 and 10 year old.  It has been a huge adjustment.  I mean how could it not be? We are new parents.  But let’s place the focus on who and where it needs to be–them.  It has been a massive adjustment for them.  We still hear how “blessed” they are, how “lucky” they are to have parents like us.  And although we know the sentiment comes from a good place, it isn’t helpful.  They aren’t lucky or blessed.  We chose this life for ourselves.  They had no choice in anything. We selfishly wanted to parent older children.  So, we are blessed.  We are lucky.  And I remind myself of that every day.

But it has been a huge adjustment.  Strangers coming together.  Getting to know one another.  Figuring out how to be oneself rather than an expectation of what the other would like us to be.  It goes both ways.  

Over the months we’ve experienced a full out Wisconsin winter.  Boy, is that hard with kids! We’ve gotten down the school routine.  That’s different doing back to school shopping in January.  We’ve learned likes and dislikes.  Bedtime routines.  Clothing sizes.  Hair care.  The learning has been mind blowing.  

We’ve also experienced and are experiencing a global pandemic.  No shit…who would have thought that three months into our parenting journey we’d be learning to parent in a pandemic.  It has been wild.  This #saferathome has really afforded our family some unique opportunities.  We’ve gotten to know each other so much better.  Our focus has not been on outside distractions but rather on how to get through this with as many smiles and as few tears as possible.  Each day has honestly been a massive rollercoaster–with a crazy amount of highs and some pretty steep drops.  Eli has worked over 40 days straight. We’ve had some amazing hikes and outdoor experiences. I am a public school educator who is navigating crisis education for not only my students, but now my kids. Our kids have shown tremendous growth and resiliency.

What it’s also allowed me to do is to seriously reflect.  

On family.

Society.

Education.

Things I want to say.

I haven’t been writing in a while because honestly I didn’t know where to start.  There have been so many things on my mind that I haven’t been quite sure how to organize them.  So I’ll leave a few thoughts here and hopefully reflect on them more deeply in future posts.

Now is the time to love one another more. But I hesitate posting statements like this. Because I think it conveys the message of rainbows, unicorns, and blind positivity. This does not mean that you should refrain from having tough conversations.  That is love.  This doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be “political” when it means neglecting the value of human life.  That is love.  This doesn’t mean you should just “preach love” and ignore what is happening in this world.  That is love.  It means to walk the walk.  Give more.  Think of the person in the house, the city, the state next to you. 

Sometimes things aren’t always so gray. Again privilege has insulated me from many things.  But parenting two kids of color has shown me there isn’t always “two sides”.  My kids should not have a mom who is silent or makes excuses in the face of racism, injustice, hatred and bigotry. I am so TIRED of seeing people first try to defend or look at the viewpoint of blatantly inappropriate, racist, disgusting rhetoric with comments like “maybe they didn’t mean it” or “not all…”.  To defend or look at the side of the oppressor is to condone it. Quit making excuses.  Speak out because this isn’t gray.  Take real action.  I have no space for hate in my life.

Physical distancing is bringing us together.  Just like anyone else I could scroll through social media daily and see stories that outrage me.  As a matter of fact, most days I do.  But I also am seeing some of the best that humanity has to offer.  This doesn’t mean we ignore the crap that is going on.  We use the anger from that crap to bring us together.  To commit to another act of selflessness.  Of kindness.  At 7:00 in the streets of NYC you can hear cheers and claps for healthcare workers whose shifts are changing.  People around the world are finding unique and creative ways to stay connected.  Our earth is healing as we stay home.  It’s amazing.  

I could go on and on.  There are so many thoughts running through this mind.  The gist of it?  We are parenting in a damn pandemic.  Trying to speak out.  Loving our neighbors, each other, this planet more. Simplex?  Nah, it’s definitely complex.  

~Chelsea