02: Life without Instagram

life without Instagram, demanding justice for Daunte Wright Jr, and five more things.

Welcome to work in progress, a newsletter about antiracism and other things, delivered every other week to your inbox. I’m so glad you’re here. If you like what you read today, consider subscribing or sending to a friend.

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Happy Sunday, everyone.

How are you doing? Has spring sprung where you are? Are you vaccinated?

I’m learning that the “end of the pandemic” is going to feel less definitive than people who’ve spent 12+ months in lockdown might’ve hoped. The whole thing all feels a bit…anti-climatic. Like when you have a vaccinated friend over and you all take off your masks and it’s exciting for 5 seconds and then overwhelmingly normal. Or like when I got my COVID vaccine in a carpeted CVS in San Mateo and there was zero fanfare except for a random man who witnessed the 30-second ordeal and bewilderedly asked me if I had just received the vaccine.

Post-vaccine conversation with Rex. I am a Leo and need to be celebrated.

Also, I got the Johnson + Johnson so I’m prepared to be ridiculed for the rest of my life.

In other news, I want to personally thank everybody who left a comment on my last newsletter, shared it with a friend, or submitted feedback. Posting things online can sometimes feel like shouting into the void, but this community always makes me feel like someone’s listening. One of my goals for post-COVID life is “to see and be seen,” and y’all make me feel seen.

A few things: based on feedback, I’m moving the Action Requested section of the newsletter to the very end. People mentioned that, if you’re reading this newsletter on your phone, it can be a hassle to click links that navigate you away from the newsletter when you haven’t finished reading yet. Now the order is — essay, 5 more things, action items. And on a similar note, the word “essay” has given me nonstop panic acne since I committed to it a few months ago. Sometimes part of this newsletter will resemble an “essay,” but other times it may just be a few paragraphs of musings. I am not a writer, I’m just a lady with a lot to say!!

Finally, in May there will be two posts for paid subscribers only. If you’re interested and able, you can upgrade your subscription to support this project moving forward.

The Substack description of this newsletter reads: this newsletter will grow alongside you. And it’s already happening. Thanks for your help in making this thing come to life.

And with that, let’s get into it.

My posture is better, my dreams are less vivid and violent, my screen time is sub-3 hours, and I no longer spend 45 minutes in bed after waking up.

That’s right: your girl deleted Instagram.

By the time this newsletter goes out, I’ll have already re-installed the app. Mostly just to catch up on some DMs and post about work in progress, because to be totally honest, I didn’t miss it at all while I was gone. 

During my time away, I realized how much I’ve relied on Instagram to get me through the chaos of 2020 (and now 2021) — it’s a mindless distraction, yes, but it’s also where I go to get my news and then process the news. I noticed the gravity of this reliance for the first time last Tuesday when I learned (through Google News, the old fashioned way) that Derek Chauvin’s verdict was about to be announced.

Typically, I’d pull up Instagram and Twitter to hear the verdict, then spend the rest of the day glued to my screens to consume every hot take and breakdown I could find about the outcome. Instead, I sat on my living room couch and stared at nothing. Rex, my boyfriend, sat at his computer in the kitchen, headphones in, and filled me in as he listened to the live reading. “Guilty of second-degree unintentional murder. Guilty of third-degree murder. Guilty of second-degree manslaughter. Guilty on all three counts.” I jumped around, whooped and hollered a bit, cursed Derek Chauvin’s name to the grave, sat back down, and started shivering uncontrollably (as happens to me when I’m nervous or excited).

And then there was silence. 

In that moment I realized how infrequently I allow my brain to just…process things. Especially the heavy, traumatic, complex things that we’ve witnessed over this last year. And to really process, not to feign processing by reading or listening to other people process the same event. It’s been so long since I’ve sat alone with my thoughts that I almost didn’t know what to do. Was I feeling the right emotions? Was I missing any context? How were other people reacting to the news? 

My coworker mentioned the guilt she feels for wanting to take time away from the news — that the ability to step away from the deluge of trauma is a privilege in and of itself. I agree, in some ways. But social media isn’t the news, and I find myself and others conflating the two often. Social media news is regular news warped and twisted: we read and re-read the same traumatizing headline literally hundreds of times as it appears and reappears on our Newsfeed and as we click through Stories. Social media news sneaks up on us from behind — just a second ago we were looking at an Instagram story celebrating a Zoom wedding, and the next second we’re confronted with an image of a 13-year old being shot by police. Opinion is blended with fact and served up as a Canva infographic. Digital drawings of the most recent victim of police brutality bombard our newsfeeds before their body has even been laid to rest.

I re-downloaded Instagram yesterday after being gone for almost a week and, on an Instagram story, voiced some of my hesitations about returning to the platform. Though it’s become normalized, it’s not normal to consume so many terrifying headlines and graphic images, and to do so so casually — between Zoom meetings, during your lunch break, while lying in bed before going to sleep. Aside from that, I’ve also started to question how much can truly be accomplished by using Instagram as an educational tool. One of my followers replied with a thought about shifting priorities post-pandemic:

My friend kept it nice and succinct:

I’m probably going to keep deleting and re-installing Instagram for the foreseeable future; it still feels like there is valuable work to be done there. But as the world opens up, I’m ready to take all the online work we’ve been doing for the past year and bring it offline. Instagram can be a part of the journey — but it’s only the beginning.

I’ve started to really enjoy cooking over the past few years, but pre-pandemic, cooking had always stressed Rex out. Things changed in March of 2020: we moved in with his family and lived there for most of the pandemic. At times, nine full-grown adults were all stuck under one roof, so we took turns cooking in teams to share the work. Through the simple act of being forced into the kitchen multiple times a week, Rex has blossomed into an amazing cook (and even I’ve grown to be more confident in the kitchen). The only downside: Rex learned to cook by cooking for nine people, so the only way he knows how to cook now is for large groups of people. We now only need to cook for the two of us. We are constantly saddled with leftovers. This is a cry for help.

Here are five recipes that were part of our pandemic cooking lineup that will 1) impress your first post-COVID houseguests and 2) be better than anything you can order on Postmates (I KNOW it sounds impossible but tbh the food you can get delivered is only worth it like 1% of the time).

• Spicy vodka pasta: every time I’ve cooked this dish for someone, they text me a few hours later and ask for the recipe. Best served with more fresh grated parm + a crack of black pepper + a little flaky salt + torn basil, as pictured. If you’re vegan, I think this recipe would still be delicious if you eliminated the parmesan + subbed the butter for a dairy-free version.

Stunning.

• Jalapeño garlic sauce: this was inspired by a sauce from Half Baked Harvest and I now use it for pretty much any dish that needs that little extra somethin’. Combine a cup of greek yogurt with juice from half a lemon, a generous drizzle of olive oil, salt, a BUNCH of cumin (like 1-2 tbs), half a minced jalapeño, and 1-2 cloves of garlic. Thin with water to get to your desired consistency — I like it to be just a little thinner than greek yogurt is by itself, but you could also make it thinner to use as a salad dressing. Put (a lot) of this on a salad, use it as a dipping sauce, or add it to a breakfast sandwich.

Pictured atop a breakfast sandwich, my final meal pre-wisdom teeth removal.

• Chocolate chip mug cake: self-explanatory. Perfect for satiating a sugar craving when the early-quarantine banana bread ran out but before we knew if food delivery was safe. I added flaky sea salt to the top of mine.

• Greek lemon chicken bowls: aforementioned inspiration for the jalapeño garlic sauce and a real pandemic crowd pleaser. I discovered Half Baked Harvest during the pandemic and her recipes have NEVER disappointed (ok that’s not true — I just tried this recipe and it was really weird, but it might’ve been my fault). Hot tips: use thighs instead of breasts, double (or quadruple) the sauce, and serve with jalapeños / pickled onions / avocado / sliced cucumber / feta. 

• Crispy potatoes: this recipe came to me one wintery night in our Airbnb while Rex and I were living in Chicago mid-pandemic when I was trying to figure out how to make a salad for dinner actually filling. Thinly slice 1-2 small potatoes per person you’re serving (I prefer red potatoes or new potatoes). In a sauce pan, add a thin layer of olive oil, heat to medium heat, and add the potatoes slices in a single layer. Add salt and pepper and any other seasonings you’d like — I’ve topped with fresh rosemary in the past. When you start to see brown forming around the edges, flip them and let them get as crisp as you like. I usually make these to put on a salad, pair with scrambled eggs, or just eat them by themselves and dip ‘em into a sauce. Vegan friendly! (PS: You can also make these in an air fryer in 10 minutes — combine the potatoes with a dash of olive oil and season them, then cook at 400 for 10ish minutes).

Yes, these are essentially fancy potato chips.

On April 11th, Daunte Wright Jr. was killed by a police officer after being pulled over for a traffic stop. The ACLU of Minnesota has since released this statement:

The ACLU of Minnesota calls for an immediate, transparent and independent investigation by an outside agency other than the Brooklyn Center Police or the BCA, and for the quick release of any body-cam footage. We call for the naming of all officers and agencies involved.

For everyone:

Contact one or more of the local officials below to demand an “immediate, transparent, and independent” investigation into the murder of Daunte Wright Jr. If you’ve never done this, check out Beyoncés letter to the Attorney General after the murder of Breonna Taylor.

• Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz: call 651-201-3400 or submit a contact form.

• Minnesota Attorney General, Keith Ellison: call (800) 657-3787.

• County Attorney for Hennepin County, Mike Freeman: email citizeninfo@hennepin.us.

For white folks and non-Black POC:

• Read my Instagram post from April 13th, posted just a few days after Daunte Wright’s death.

norajmaxwell

A post shared by @norajmaxwell

• Watch the accompanying story on sustaining action and allyship. (Note: you’ll need an Instagram account to watch.)

• Then, reflect on the following prompts:

How will you incorporate the work of antiracism and allyship into your life in a meaningful way?

How will you engage in sustained, consistent work instead of sporadic, reactive work?

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Thank you for spending your Sunday with me. Let’s all make some good trouble this week.

xo,

Nora