A zine on community health
Featuring a very silly drawing of Lizzo
Well, hi there.
I’m currently writing this from my apartment in Chicago, where I have been almost continuously since the weekend. In a parallel universe, I am in Austin this week, speaking and moderating another panel at SXSW. In that same universe, I am then flying to Seattle, where I will see my students for a week of the LSSTC Data Science Fellowship Program, the data science school for astronomy graduate students I founded and run with my colleague Adam Miller. Unfortunately, the Me That Is Writing This Newsletter, and the Me That Took Those Trips are not one and the same (or are they? cosmology often makes me feel like I am having an existential crisis, which is why I study stars).
Anyway, I’m instead emerging from several weeks of helping our 40 students renegotiate their travel to Seattle, of arguing with my employer that disabled and elderly staff should not be left vulnerable to possible coronavirus exposure (they did the right thing and closed; our hourly staff are on paid administrative leave and the rest of us are working remotely), and navigating what this whole thing means for me, a person with an autoimmune disease that is managed through a combination of medication that suppresses my immune system (which I’ve had to stop taking) and extensive physical exercise (involving the gym and aerial studio I cannot currently go to because: pandemic).
Unless you are the group who went river rafting in the Grand Canyon for 25 days and only got back into cell reception on Saturday, it’s safe to say you’re probably similarly overloaded with the extreme decision fatigue that accompanies making choices in a rapidly evolving crisis, not to mention the emotional toll of it all. It seems like we are all trying to navigate the unknown with whatever tools we have— in my case, that looks like making something.
So, here’s a free-to-print-and-distribute-to-anyone zine on community health practices, featuring some practical information on hand washing, making your own hand sanitizer, what to do if you feel ill, and a ridiculous drawing of Lizzo holding a bar of soap (because I’ve also included a song sheet of choruses that last 20 seconds or so, the length of time you should be washing your hands, and “Truth Hurts” is one of those songs). Please note that I am not great at portraiture, but hopefully you’ll be entertained at my attempt!
Much like this newsletter, this zine is doesn’t have much astronomy in it— BUT, it was informed by some ~oddly prescient~ reading I’d been doing with three astronomer friends, following this excellent syllabus on mutual aid by Dean Spade. I’ve learned a lot from those readings (which I feel like I have barely dented still!) so I’d encourage you to give them a try as well.
And speaking of space, as we were not: I was hoping to find some way to interweave astronomy in here, but to be honest the one and only planet we live on has 110% of my attention right now, for all the obvious reasons. So, I will offer this thought about astronomy: astronomy is my job. Like many of you reading this, I’m sure, it’s a little hard to focus on work in the midst of a pandemic— and at the same time, social media bombards us with reminders that so-and-so Famous Smart Person invented Indispensable Important Thing while they were [locked in their house or somewhere for some period of time]. While I am generally very excited about all these Indispensable Things created by Famous Smart People throughout history, I would like to remind you that it is OK to just be. You do not have to fill every second with a new craft project, you don’t have to finally organize your books perfectly, you don’t have to invent a new branch of philosophy. Personally, I am a nocturnal person who works in a building that is open during normal-people hours, so my big accomplishment this week is sleeping on the schedule my body enjoys most. Frankly, I’m pretty proud of myself for sleeping at all.
The stars will be there when we come out on the other side of this (yes, even Betelgeuse… probably) and honestly, before long I will be back to you with more astronomy-related things. You may also have noticed the name of the newsletter changed— that’s because I’m planning on offering some online courses in the near future, and “the universe” was way too sweeping a name. If you’re sad that you no longer get emails from “The Universe”, just remember that you still do, because every email you receive has passed through electronic components and infrastructure that would not exist without previous generations of dead stars scattering heavy elements back into space, where they eventually became part of the stuff that formed Earth. There it is, your astronomy content. Be well.