PSSSST... I'M STILL HERE

: )

Dear Troublemakers,

You know how right after you decide to move, the things that you used to just deal with suddenly feel like dealbreakers? The creaky floors now creak extra loud, the outdated kitchen seems to age again suddenly overnight, and the neighbors are enjoying their outdoor space later and later each night. Because finally, you realize that those things are no longer forever, they are temporary. And they are about to come to an end.

Well I had a moment like that a few weeks ago (not about my house, we finally finished our basement to my husband’s delight and I have a feeling even the creakiest of floors wouldn’t send us packing). No friends, this moment was on the unpredictable streets of social media. Facebook, to name names. I shared what I assumed and intended to be a delightful, sweet story about me and another Black woman having an unexpected inside joke as strangers in the haircare aisle of CVS, and a caption from my book about why I love being a Black woman. I posted it in the morning, and when I came back from eating breakfast, my comment section was b l o w i n g u p.

Some Black women shared their own stories of similar encounters in a Target or CVS aisle, but for every comment like that there were five more comments about why I was picking on, upset with, targeting the CVS employee, mad at (wait for it)… a white woman.

“Why weren’t you kind to the white woman?” the comments pleaded.

Friends, this story was not about the white woman. But in the hands of the internet, they demanded she be fought for, recognized, and her innocence preserved. I commented on a few posts, changed the caption of my post to let people know the story is not about my having any ill feelings about the white woman, and suggested if they were this offended by my story they never read the first sentence to my book Im Still Here.

I don’t want to live here anymore, I thought. And I realized, Austin, you don’t have to.* “More joy”, remember?

I had already been toying with the idea of launching a patreon community, because I am absolutely craving more interactions with our Troublemaker community aka you! When I read through those comments, I was never nervous that one of you was going to have written a “what about the white woman” comment. I am so grateful for our troublemaker zooms and the comments on here, and frankly, I think we are just getting started.

I really, really hope you join me over in my new patreon world. I’m calling it my anti-racism playground and that’s exactly how I intend to use the space. To try new things (my brainstorm list is so long!) and share lots and lots of my thoughts, but also, to grow this community.

A bit of housekeeping - this substack isn’t going anywhere. All my posts will be here whenever you want to see them.

Here's what happens next. You've got a couple options: 

1. You can cancel your Substack paid subscription. Then head over to Patreon to join our new community. If you need more help you can reach out to Substack support here.

2. You can wait until May 31. On May 31, I will cease all substack subscriptions (which will give you a refund according to when you joined). And then you can hop over to patreon. 

There are 6 levels on Patreon starting at just $5 a month.

Come play with us!

And of course, stay wild and holy and free.

- Austin

*I am not quitting social media. Just not looking to that as much for connection or community.