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Phoebe Sinclair Writes

Phoebe Sinclair Writes

Tag Archives: color

Boston Pride Parade 2013

24 Monday Jun 2013

Posted by Phoebe (she / hers) in Boston Moments, Community

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

color, community, events, jamaica-plain, photography, spring

Man in leather underpants

My first Boston Pride Parade was a revelation. Leather clad ladies on motorcycles. Gyrating men in their underpants dancing to club beats. A politician or two shaking hands while proclaiming progressive platforms. Local health and advocacy groups tossing beads and colorfully packaged condoms, littering the streets with flyers and candy.

I was mesmerized. I was amazed. I’ve gone back again and again.

"Dyke" on rainbow pedal bike

Pride street signs

"Queen" wearing ladybug hat

In the decade or so that I’ve attended (and once, marched with Greater Boston NOW,) the parade has changed. Perhaps matured? Strong in its themes of inclusivity, celebration, activism, and pride, there have been -over the years- a noticeable reduction in near-nude men festooning flatbed trucks and an increase in religious communities, families, politicians, and corporate allies.

Fish-man in tractor with pride wheel

I don’t know. You tell me.

Boy on unicycle handing out fans

Weekly DIG newsletter box monkey costume

Even though I don’t identify as gay, lesbian, queer, or transgender, I’m never the odd person out at Pride, whatever it’s current styling. Which is more than I can say for a certain high school history class where I slumped, hot-faced and confused, as my teacher rattled on about how gays couldn’t serve in the military because they were too limp-wristed and lisping. (Way to disrespect our service members, Mr. Name-I-Can’t-Recall.)

Roller derby lady

Boston Ballet represents at Pride

I’m so grateful to my alma mater for helping to release me from the tight hold of an inherited prejudice. My four years at an arts and communication college in Boston were a key folding back a metal lid, out from which exploded a beautiful confetti.

Walkers appreciating out-going Mayor Thomas Menino

Walkers appreciate out-going Mayor Thomas Menino, long-time a friend to Boston Pride

Blessed are the fabulous car

Pride Asian fans

And thank goodness.

Each One Teach One

16 Wednesday Jan 2013

Posted by Phoebe (she / hers) in Learnin'

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

book-love, color, food-n-cookin, nyc

Each one, teach one is a phrase from my childhood. Always, it was in association with the black community; a kind of close-knit striving to bring every person out from the abyss of isolation and fruitless struggle. In this phrase: hope, determination, looking back at a dark history, leaning forward toward success, the idea that each individual has value, despite society’s contrary claim.

I haven’t been that little girl for a long time, eavesdropping on grown-up conversations about the-way-things-are when I should have been sleeping or minding my own. Each one, teach one and it’s cousin, each one, let one (uttered by my mother on the highways of New Jersey when one car refused to let another merge), had virtually disappeared from my lexicon. Lucky for me, other people have better memories.

Snowy branches and leaves

Yes, Chef, the memoir of chef Marcus Samuelsson, born in Ethiopia, raised in Sweden, cooked his way through Europe and landed in America’s famous Harlem, surprised me by cracking open the black experience and laying bare his impressions. Samuelsson’s succinct summary of why so few high-end kitchens employ chefs of color (and women of any color), his brown-outsider’s experience of racism in Sweden, the US and aboard, his desire to contribute, his vulnerabilities, eccentricities, drive and artistry all impressed this reader. Though perhaps I was most moved by his respectful recounting of each one, teach one, pulling it from the past into the future.

No Crystal Stair was another surprise excursion through the heart of black American history. This fictionalized “documentary” by Vaunda Micheaux Nelson shows its effort in the best way; I could feel the hours spent researching -the phone calls, the sudden dead-ends, the victories- in Nelson’s account of her great-uncle, Lewis Micheaux, owner of the famous National Memorial African Bookstore, also of Harlem. Again each one, teach one painted a central theme in the life of Lewis Micheaux, who contributed via his passion for reading, for understanding, for bringing people along.

Snowy boughs in the Arboretum

My mind likes to create connections. Perhaps it’s just human. Unearthing the same theme in two books I chose at random -coincidence?

90 Degree Ramble

21 Thursday Jun 2012

Posted by Phoebe (she / hers) in Green Life

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

color, jamaica-plain

On Thursdays, I work at home. Most weeks, I stay “Boston-side,” instead of making the trek over to Cambridge, where I work the other four days.  This means, I take my laptop over to the Boston Public Library or, if I really don’t feel like leaving the neighborhood, to sit (somewhat guiltily) for hours at Ula Cafe.

Today was hot, hot, hot, but everyone seemed to be out-of-doors, regardless. My pilgrimage to and fro led me to some gorgeous sights.

Some of us obviously love the heat.

Spiky flower

IMG_6472

Yellow and red flowers

Purple flower and raspberries

Some of us hide out.

Snails under the leaves

Our Apartment and The Orange Wall

01 Tuesday May 2012

Posted by Phoebe (she / hers) in Home

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

color, trees

Although I’m quick to dispute the concept of love-at-first-sight when it comes to romance, I’m oddly content to announce its existence in other, more mundane aspects of life. Such as scoring a new job, or apartment.

Case in point: my home of three and half years that I share with partner, cat, a number of not-quite-thriving plants, and some moss in a jar.  Sunny, but not sun-filled (much to the rue of the plants); colorful, but not overwhelming: this is a place that has been loved long before we arrived.

I love it now, in part because, surrounded by just the right number of tall, thin trees, it gives the appearance of height, yet also the feeling of safety, of being tucked away.  And oh, how lovely the paint color-choices of an occupant past.  How compelling that deep orange wall.
Accent wall

Friends at the orange wall

Seed Catalog Potluck Brunch

Friends under the down comforter

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