Loitering

Loitering

By Sonia PaulSociety & Culture
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Loitering episodes

  • Loitering on the Phone with Rachel Monroe

    Sonia Paul 

    Hello, everyone, welcome to Loitering, the occasional but lovable traveling mini pod I am currently testing in newsletter format. And today I am loitering on the phone with a very special guest. Can you please introduce yourself?

    Rachel Monroe  00:26

    Hi, this is Rachel Monroe. I am a writer and I'm stoked to be talking to you today.

    Sonia Paul  00:32

    So you're a writer, where are you based?

    Rachel Monroe  00:35

    I am based in Marfa, Texas. It's a small town of about 2000 people that is in far West Texas. So that means it's about 200 miles east of El Paso and about 70 miles north of the Mexican border. And it gets most of its attention for minimalist art, and it's just a small place in the middle of the desert with a great creative community.

    Sonia Paul  00:59

    Interesting, and how long have you been living there?

    Rachel Monroe  01:02

    Since 2012.

    Sonia Paul  01:04

    Okay, so can you talk a little bit about the kind of writing that you do, the kinds of stories that you pursue?

    Rachel Monroe  01:11

    Sure. I always have a hard time kind of identifying myself as a journalist, I guess, which is in some ways, like maybe the easiest way to say what I do, I write magazine pictures, mostly. But, you know, I didn't go to journalism school or anything. So I don't know. I just I tend to like writing about people in complicated multi layered situations and can manifest in a lot of different ways. And I write a lot about crime, but not  exclusively about it.

    Sonia Paul  01:39

    Right. Yeah, so you wrote a book recently called Savage Appetites: Four True Stories of Women, Crime and Obsession. Can you talk a little bit about the genesis of that book and where the idea came from?

    Rachel Monroe  01:53

    Sure. It really started with my own curiosity about myself, actually. I tend think of myself as a pretty friendly, nice, good tempered person, nonviolent. But I've always been really drawn to these true crime stories, stories of just really terrible things that people do to each other, even from a very young age, from a sort of alarmingly young age. And then, over the years as I became a writer and a journalist and did some reporting myself, and wrote some pieces that could be considered true crime. It was interesting to me that that didn't quite fill the fascination. In certain moods, in certain parts of my life, particularly, when I had a hard day, or having just a difficult period, all I would want to do is come home and zone out — it always felt like zoning out — while listening to or watching or reading a story about just like extremely awful human experiences.  There's some contrast there between the pleasure and almost relaxation that I got and the content of what I was reading about, just like real human tragedy. There is a disconnect there, that I knew a lot of people felt it. So it seemed to me that there was something to dig into. I wasn't finding anybody at the time who was able to articulate what was going on in a way that satisfies me. So I thought I would have to dig into it myself.

    Sonia Paul  03:19

    Wow. And what generation are you?

    Rachel Monroe  03:24

    Haha, I'm an old millennial.

    Sonia Paul  03:26

    No, the reason I ask is because true crime and like the sort of obsession that we in the US in particular have with it has kind of like really ascending in the last few years, I would say, especially, like, you know, the podcast Serial, or all these other true crime podcasts. I don't know what else you're thinking of. But I remember when I was growing up too though, like I used to watch Unsolved Mysteries with Robert Stack all the time. And I'm wondering then this idea of obsession with true crime. I mean, is it that it's become more common, or has it always been there but all the sudden we're more fascinated with it? And what are the forces that are making us more fascinated with it, you think?

    Rachel Monroe  04:11

    Yeah, I mean, I think you're right that it is something that has existed. And so they have always drawn an audience from the very beginning of mass media, people were telling murder stories. But, at the same time, I think it's really clear that we're having a cultural boom moment. And these moments, they ebb and they flow. And it's really like clear that something is happening. And also, I think, for different reasons, the crime world, sometimes it's more like a subculture thing. I think when I was growing up, at least that's what I thought about it as. It felt kind of, like an edgy thing for people who are, you know, dressed in black and really gloomy or something -- at least that's the association I had. And I remember when I went to Crime Con, which is essentially a true crime fan convention put on by the TV network Oxygen, a couple years ago, it was so clearly a mainstream audience that they were targeting, or at least that they were attracting. And so I think that idea that this is no longer like fringe culture, alternative culture, but it's like truly, truly mainstream, that's the thing that isn't always the case, that these are the stories at the forefront of our culture. 

    05:15

    And I think there are a lot of things that attribute to that. I mean, in large part I think, just the growth of podcasts as medium is a huge driver, because in many cases, people aren't necessarily breaking new ground with their true crime podcasts. They're telling these old stories, sometimes like real familiar stories in this new format. That gives these stories that have already been told a new kind of life, a new energy, because they're being told in this way. And so, clearly, there's things that go beyond the podcast realm and the realm of cable TV networks, and books and Netflix shows and documentaries, and magazine journalism, and it's everywhere. But the growth of the podcast and the way that these stories, with their drama and their hooks and their sense of an unfolding investigation, really are suited to the podcast world.

    Sonia Paul  06:04

    Interesting. And you mentioned when you went to this Crime Con convention, it was sponsored by Oxygen, which is this women's network. And if I remember correctly from reading the book, it was mostly women who were attending that conference, right?

    Rachel Monroe  06:19

    Oh, yeah, like overwhelmingly like 80-90% women, for sure.

    Sonia Paul  06:23

    So what is it about women and crime that you started to probe and that you kind of figured out through the course of your reporting and writing this book?

    Rachel Monroe  06:32

    It's interesting, right? Because when we look at crime, statistically, you would think that it would be something that would just be a field that draws like a primarily male audience, because most murderers are men. Most who are are victims are also men. The people who are working in this world as homicide detectives, as defense attorneys, all those professions are primarily male. Sometimes overwhelmingly so. But you're right that the audience for these stories is really disproportionately female, and I think there are a lot of reasons contributing to that, you know, every now and then you'll find somebody who wants to give one small pat answer to why women are so drawn to true crime. And those answers never feel satisfying. It's a multi-layered thing. 

    But I think, I guess the simplest way that I could put it would be that women have a really fraught and complex relationship with our own vulnerability. We, I think, are socialized to be really aware of our vulnerability in the world. And some of that comes from culture, you know, the fact that our culture is also really preoccupied with female vulnerability, and, and not in a universal way, right, like the vulnerability of attractive middle class white women, often young white women, is something that you see so many shows or plot points revolving around. The writer Alice Bolin wrote a great book called Dead Girls, and she talks about how much of our pop culture, the jumping off point is the discovery of this, you know, beautiful blonde woman, dead body. And that's, that's kind of the rol…



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    38 min
  • Loitering by the River with Liz Flock

    Hello everyone, welcome to Loitering, the occasional but lovable traveling mini pod I am currently testing in newsletter format. And today, we are loitering by the river with a very special guest, or rather, two very special guests. Can you please introduce yourself?

    Liz Flock — 0:27 : I am Liz Flock, a writer and journalist. I write about gender and justice, and I wrote a book about love and marriage in India called The Heart is a Shifting Sea.

    Sonia Paul — 0:39 : Cool, and can you please introduce our other special guest on her behalf?

    Liz — 0:44 : And we're also here with Zora, my pup, who's chewing a stick to shreds by the river.

    Sonia — 0:50 : Okay, and so where's this river that we're in right now? Can you please situate us, Liz?

    Liz — 0:55 : We are in Taos, New Mexico, which for those who don't know is far northern New Mexico, about 45 minutes from the border with Colorado, and about two hours north of Santa Fe.

    Sonia : And so how long have you been in Taos? What brought you here?

    Liz : I came to Taos after a year on the road. I've worked in DC and New York most of my life and lived in big cities all of my life. And left working at PBS NewsHour, about a year and a half ago, was on the road for a full year trying to do investigative journalism out of a van. That promptly showed that it didn't really work out when, you know, my investigative documents were flying out of the van doors, and at some point, I was sort of like, it's time to get rooted. And along my journeys had passed through New Mexico, which I think is the most beautiful state in America, and probably the most underrepresented in many ways, and got interested in Taos, which is a place with a lot of really rich community of different kinds of people, a lot of creative people, a long history of that, and just a really beautiful place.

    Sonia — 2:00 : So, you mentioned something that I wanted to touch on, this idea of being rooted. And so for you, what is being rooted? What does that mean? What does it feel like? What is it supposed to feel like?

    Liz — 2:12 : I think in this time in history, so many of us are not rooted. You know, if you think about the baby boomers, our parents' generation, a lot of them stayed in one spot, maybe work the same job for 40 years. And so many of us now are on the move, on the go for our work, or not really able to get settled, searching for the place that is our place. Me, I grew up between different houses, and I feel like I've always been on the move. And that's been what's comfortable to me, but getting older, I think there's more of a sense of like, okay, rooting down would be a good thing to like, plug into a community and give back to that community, but also for journalism and writing, I think, deep thinking and being able to like, really sit with yourself is so important for that work. And in order to be able to do that, I think you really need to root down to one spot. I just think that's really key.

    Sonia — 3:05 : This idea of rooting down to one spot and being with yourself. I mean, your experience working out of Taos versus working out of DC or these other cities, how big of a role do you think does the actual environment play into all of this, versus a person's own mental, emotional, maybe one could also say spiritual, state of mind?

    Liz — 3:25 : I actually think it plays a big role. I think people are really shaped by places. Like, you know, you often hear people say, like, where are you from? And people identify so much with the place they were born. And I think, to different levels, people are always shaped by the places they're in. Working in DC and New York and Mumbai, I feel like my work was always driven by adrenaline. It was all about productivity, getting things out the door, trying to move up the ladder, how much can I accomplish, who do I know, how can I get myself out there, and it was all just sort of, you know, typical city, go, go, go, culture. And I wanted to really force myself to slow down because I felt like I was missing a lot, especially when it came to looking at our political situation, but also just writing. I mean, someone said once that like the best condition for writing is being bored, and I couldn't agree more. Like when your mind is at rest is when the good stuff comes out. So, I felt like I wasn't able to do that in those cities, and also that I was like, developing this very East Coast perspective on the world, which can be a really narrow one.

    Sonia — 4:29 : What is it about Taos, you think, that's maybe helping your adrenaline to adjust, and just being able to sit with yourself? I mean, maybe, it might be worth it to illuminate Taos a little bit more. Like, what kind of place is this, what kind of people are here? Is it mostly locals, transplants? How big is the population, if you know?

    Liz — 4:47 : Yeah, so, where we're sitting right now is in the middle of the Rio Grande gorge, next to the Rio Grande River, which was formed by volcanoes millions of years ago and was once an ocean. So, obviously, a really deep, long history, and you feel it in this place. Taos itself is in part like a ski town, where people come, ski on the mountain, but it's also a place that's really diverse. It's one third indigenous, one third Latino, one third white, people of all different ages and backgrounds and transient people, people who have lived here forever. It's kind of hard to pin down like, what exactly Taos is. And I think in the popular imagination, people think of Taos as super creative because they think of like, Georgia O'Keeffe coming through here and doing her work here, DH Lawrence had a ranch here, all kinds of movies have been filmed here.

    Sonia — 5:37 : Oh really, like which movies?

    Liz — 5:38 : Okay, the famous movie that I'm now forgetting the name is two guys riding through America, Dennis Hopper and someone else, and it's like a symbol of freedom. And they're driving their motorcycles, and they're actually seeing small town America and reacting to it, and finding the ways that it's racist and bigoted and all these things, and trying desperately to find a place that isn't that. And the movie goes totally into these dark places, and I can't remember what it's called. But it's filmed a lot in Taos because Dennis Hopper also, like spent a long time in Taos doing drugs and being a wild man.

    Sonia — 6:07 : Oh, wow. Okay.

    Liz — 6:08 : So, there's a lot, you know, it's a lot to uncover and a deep history of indigenous revolts. So there's also like a very strong spirit of rebellion, and a really tight knit community too.

    Sonia — 6:21 : And so, how would you describe the pace of life here?

    Liz — 6:24 : So to your question about coming down from adrenaline, I think it's impossible to have adrenaline here. Like, New Mexico time is really slow. When I first got here, we were trying to find a car, and every time I would make an appointment to go see someone, they wouldn't show up, or they'd come like, three hours later. It's like, there's no such thing as coming on time to anything. And people laugh in your face when you try to be like, that person who's like, I want this now, like, standing in line for a coffee, like, don't think that you're going to just get things right away. Like, that's not the culture here. It's very much like, things unfold as they do. You and I just went to a bookshop, and you have conversations with the owner. You might think you'll be there for five minutes, you might be there for two hours, who knows? But you'll learn a lot about all of the books on his bookshelf. And I think just being so part of the land here, so immersed with nature. I live, as you know, on the mesa.

    Sonia — 7:13 : What is the mesa for people who are not familiar?

    Liz — 7:16 : The mesa is... it can be a lot of different things. But in the high desert, which we're in, our property is just surrounded by a rolling field of sage. So it's Sage as far as the eye can see.

    Sonia — 7:28 : It's like an ocean of sage.

    Liz — 7:29 : It is, it could …



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    16 min
  • Loitering on the Couch with Monica Villavicencio

    Hello, everyone, welcome to Loitering, the occasional but lovable traveling mini pod I am currently testing in newsletter format. And today I am loitering on the couch with a very special guest. Can you please introduce yourself?

    Monica — 0:26 : Hi, my name is Monica Villavicencio, and I met Sonia when I was living in San Francisco, and now she's here with me on my couch in Atlanta, Georgia, where I moved two months ago.

    Sonia — 0:38 : Okay, so we're here in Atlanta. But Monica, aside from San Francisco, you've lived in a lot of different places.

    Monica — 0:45 : Yeah, I've lived in a ton of places. Aside from Atlanta and San Francisco, I've lived in Washington, DC, New York, Tokyo, London, and LA, and with shorter stints in the Philippines, and Chicago.

    Sonia — 1:02 : Wow, that is quite a number. First question is, where do you consider home?

    Monica — 1:09 : That's a complicated question. And something I have wrestled with a lot. And I feel like if you'd asked me even two years ago, I would have had a different answer. But right now, right now I'm in a, like, in a phase of feeling like home is just wherever I am, wherever I live. So I guess, home is here in Atlanta, although it still feels like a new place. And I don't know that many people yet. But that's basically how I feel these days.

    Sonia — 1:40 : Wow. And so where would you consider your roots, though? Like, the, the roots that made you consider what home first might be?

    Monica — 1:49 : Yeah, that's also a complicated question, because my parents live in Virginia, just outside of DC. So when people ask me, where are you from, I always say, Virginia, just because I don't really know how to answer otherwise. And that's where I went to high school. But it's also really interesting, because I just came off of almost seven years in California. And I also spent my first nine years in California and LA. So it's like, the West Coast -- I feel like I have strong roots in San Francisco and where I was born, and LA, and also on the East Coast, in like the Washington DC area. And all I can say about that is kind of for the first time in a long time, I feel pretty comfortable saying that my roots extend from one side of the country to another. And that feels like that's the only narrative that's going to make sense for me.

    Sonia — 2:44 : What was the tipping point that made you realize that you could say that you're from these two places across the country?

    Monica — 2:52 : I think a big part of it was the decision to move here and the process of moving here, because I went to San Francisco with this idea of, I needed to build a home, and I needed to build roots of my own. Roots of my own that were my choice, and not just wherever my parents happened to be. And it was a good home for a while. But when I realized it wasn't fitting me anymore, and it wasn't fitting with how I wanted my life to develop, the decision to move across the country to a city I actually had never really spent any time in made me realize like, maybe my idea that I'm going to one day find a home and just stay there. And that decision to make a place my home will slowly like, allow roots to sprout. That's not how it's going to look for me. So it was I think the process of trying to pick one home and realizing I didn't need to do that.

    Sonia — 3:47 : Okay, so if I'm following this correctly, what you're saying you figured out for yourself is that you once had this vision that you would make a home somewhere, wherever you happen to be, and you would plant roots. But now you're kind of letting go of that idea?

    Monica — 4:05 : I think by moving I didn't sort of pick a new home, I just let go of the idea of one place becoming home. I think it's still possible that might happen. It's possible that you come back here 20 years from now, and I'll still be here -- or not. I don't know. But I think I used to feel this pressure to pick a place. Well I would get questions from like, old friends or family. Questions like "Oh, are you there for good?" Like this, just this concept of "for good," is just like, how can anyone answer? I mean, some people think they can. But I don't think any of us really can. So...

    Sonia — 4:42 : Oh, yeah, I know what you mean.

    Monica — 4:43 : Yeah.

    Sonia — 4:44 : And what about then like this idea of community around these different homes or, quote unquote, "homes?" Because, you know, every so often I'll be on the internet, and I'll like, come across an article, like "millennials lack community," or "Americans, by and large, are so lonely." So, what do you think this idea or reality of community has to do with this desire, or even relinquishment of like a quote unquote, permanent home?

    Monica — 5:15 : Yeah, that's a tricky thing. Because community really does take time to build. I mean, I felt like it took me about a year in San Francisco before I felt like I had a few friends that I could call at any time, and maybe not even, maybe more than a year. And that, all of that takes time. And that's the tricky thing about moving locations. On the other hand, I've noticed since I've been here, I've definitely tried to keep in touch with my friends on the west coast. And, I should also say that I'm a little bit lucky because Arvin is here with me.

    Sonia — 5:46 : And who is this guy, Arvin?

    Monica — 5:48 : That's my boyfriend. And also, my friend and business partner also moved from San Francisco around the same time.

    Sonia — 5:56 : Oh, so Arvin, is not a business partner, but you have another —

    Monica — 5:59 : I have another friend, Stephanie. And we all live very close to each other. So I kind of came here with a little tiny community, and slowly extending out. And, I mean, it is lonely or when you don't have friends that you've known for a long time here, and you have to rebuild that. But, sometimes even when you stay in the same place, you still have to do that. I lived in DC for a while. And DC is so transient that I remember there was a group of people that I hung out with every weekend for like, two years. And then it's like, one day, it just seemed like they were all gone. And everyone had moved on to other things. So, it's also like our way of life here that people are always moving for opportunities. And yeah.

    Sonia — 6:45 : Yeah, this makes me think. A couple days ago, we were talking about this idea of what it means to move for opportunity, versus stay for other reasons. Do you remember what exactly we talked about? Because I I'd like to get back into that.

    Monica — 7:01 : I do. Well, what I remember is, we kind of talked about the difference between, there are places that people tend to go for the opportunities. And so what pulls them there is opportunities to further themselves, whether that's professionally or creatively or financially. Notably, Washington, DC, is one. New York is often one, but you do find a lot of New Yorkers who are just there and all their family is there. Even San Francisco these days has that feel, because there's so much tech opportunity there that it's a destination for people with a certain amount of education and ambition. And when a city is the kind of place people go for opportunity, and tend to leave when something else comes along, there's like a transient quality, and possibly when people are less invested in what they can give to their communities and more -- more interested in what this place can give to them. What they can get from the place. So it might be even a little extractive, although that sounds kind of harsh, but I don't know.

    Sonia — 8:03 : Yeah. Do you think that will always be the case, because so much professional, creative, and financial --that often all falls under the umbrella category of professional or quote unquote, "adult" opportunity comes by flocking to these destinations, do you think we're going to see a paradigm shift at any point, though? Or is that going to always be the case just because of how competitive things are?

    Monica — 8:31 : I... I mea…



    This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit loitering.substack.com
    12 min
  • Loitering at Stinson Beach with Laura Rena Murray

    Hello everyone, welcome to Loitering, the occasional but lovable traveling mini pod I am currently testing in newsletter format. And today, we are doing a throwback to the original Loitering and taking you to a location with a very special guest. Right now we're at Stinson Beach, and our guest — can you please introduce yourself?

    Laura: Hi, I'm Laura Rena Murray. I have been working as a longform investigative journalist for the last decade. I usually cover topics relating to homelessness and housing, the LGBT community, public health, specifically HIV/AIDS, yeah.

    Sonia (0:39): Can you, uh, talk a little bit about one of the stories you've done in the past that you're most proud of, or is most memorable or special to you?

    Laura (0:48): I spent a fair amount of time reporting on reservations in the Midwest, specifically reporting on the Indian Child Welfare Act.

    Sonia (0:55): Uh, for those who don't know what that is, can you just explain a little bit what that is?

    Laura (1:00): So, it's a law that was created in the late 70s, to sort of combat the practice of removing Native children from their families and communities, and placing them in non-Native foster homes or systems. And part of the reason was because you have all of these communities who were systematically losing their children for many reasons, but it all sort of boiled down to inherent racism, and what we've done to Native American communities across this country. So, it was an important step to try and preserve those communities. And it was something that I wanted to see if it was working or not. So I took a few months, and hit the road, and went to many reservations reporting on what was happening.

    Sonia (1:44): And what do you think was the outcome of your story, or what's the takeaway for those who ought to be intrigued to read it to understand further?

    Laura (1:54): I think it helps to illuminate what is happening to a community in the present day. You know, a lot of people, if they've never been to a reservation, they're not thinking about it. There are a lot of stereotypes people have about who native families are, and sort of how they rear their children. And I think the stories that came out of that reporting trip helped educate a lot of people who are non-Native, but also offered a platform to families who are struggling to get their children back, and caught up in systems where they didn't have a chance. There were some places I'd go, and the family would have less than 30 seconds or they wouldn't be allowed to speak at all in a courtroom. And it would just be the social workers speaking directly to a judge, recommending to remove the child. And, often children are removed because their families were poor. Like, that's what it boiled down to. It wasn't anything else about the child being in danger, but I think it was some, like insane percentage of children were removed for neglect, which was basically a code word for poverty.

    Sonia (2:56): Well, for those of you who are listening and reading, we're going to have a link to that story in the newsletter. So please reference that below. And so Laura, you've been working as a freelance investigative journalist for over a decade, but your day to day job right now is a little bit different. Can you tell us what you're doing in your day to day these days?

    Laura (3:18): So, a few years ago, I started training to become a motorcycle technician. I love riding motorcycles. And I bought my first motorcycle probably five or six years ago. And a few months ago, I got a job working in a motorcycle shop. I work at the BMW shop in San Francisco. And it's great. It's entirely unlike journalism, in that it offers a little more stability. And also, there's something really lovely about being able to fix a problem in a day. Which is just not something that you get from a lot of other jobs. And how marvelous is that?

    Sonia (3:56): So Laura, I'm just kind of wondering like, how do you think about that in relation to the way you think about yourself as a journalist or writer? Are you still the same two Laura Rena Murrays, or is there one, newer version of you that's emerging now?

    Laura (4:14): That's a hard question. I think that our industry —

    Sonia (4:18): Meaning the journalism industry?

    Laura (4:20): Yes. I mean, I've been doing it for a decade now. And just seeing the changes in the industry, like we're trying to adjust to layoffs and publications shutting down. And, you know, there are some stories I've worked on where I've like gone through multiple editors who have been laid off during the course of reporting the story, and it feels unstable. It's difficult to make it work. Even though at the core of me, I feel journalism is the perfect job. I love immersion into communities, and learning about power structures and where they fail, and what the consequences are and who's responsible for that. And I love writing. It's, I think, it's something that I was always meant to do.

    (5:09)

    But, it is hard to do that when you aren't supported, when we can't pay our rent. Literally, that's what's happening. And that's something that really makes me pause when I think about sustainability and how we live our lives. And you know, we work in journalism because we are the observers, the note takers. We record history as it happens. We think it's important for everyone to know what's happening, whether or not you have access to the institutions of power that run our country and our world. So yeah, I think I'm a little bit torn right now in terms of, you know, wanting some stability in my life and wanting to sort of do the job that I know I was born to do.

    Sonia (5:52): Do you think the tension about stability comes from journalism writ large or the nature of freelance reporting?

    Laura (6:01): I think both go hand in hand. I think most people don't actually understand how much the institution of journalism is supported by freelance journalists who sacrifice a great deal in order to report the stories that really, make a huge difference.

    Sonia (6:20): So, do you have any ideas or recommendations for what we ought to do to think about moving forward?

    Laura (6:29): So, I — I don't know that I know the answer. But, I do think that there are many things about this world that require a more comprehensive understanding of what's going on. More background and history, like you need the context in order to know what's happening, unless you live in a community and you are consuming the news daily. And so I think that longform journalism, I think investigative journalism, really, actually, every piece that is produced, is sort of a testament to the sacrifice that was made by the journalists who worked on that story.

    (7:05)

    And as freelance journalists, we both know how much you sacrifice in order to work on the story. You know, you get nominal grants to sort of cover the expenses of reporting — if you're lucky — you know, but the story where I was reporting on reservations for months at a time, I was sleeping in my car, and you know, drinking lots of coffee and not eating very much, just in order to stretch the small grant that I had gotten to cover the story. So that's tough. I don't, I don't know what the answer is to change that. But my hat goes off to every journalist who persists in producing quality work because we need it.

    Sonia (7:46): Yeah, and I'm, I'm curious, because for a long time now, you've been working on a book. And I'm wondering if you would be open to talking a little bit about that, and if you're imagining a different version of its lifespan, given the sort of restructuring of the work that you are doing right now to make your personal life work, and professional life work?

    Laura (8:09): Right. Yeah, writing a book takes a lot. And I think it requires a lot of support. It requires, like the financial ability to actually do the work. The book that I started working on now a few years ago, is looking really at the child …



    This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit loitering.substack.com
    12 min
  • Loitering in Oakland on Nationalism

    Hello, everyone! Welcome to Loitering, the occasional, but lovable traveling minipod I am currently testing in newsletter format. And today, I am loitering at my dining room table in Oakland, California.

    If you’re getting this, that means that at some point or another, you’ve expressed interest in my reporting and encouraged me to keep you in the loop on future stories and my whereabouts, and what I am generally up to.

    Some of you may remember the original Loitering mini podcast. That went on hiatus first when the app I used to start it shut down (which of course was not unexpected given the nature of startups). And then after I relaunched it, it went on hiatus again when I got really busy. And I also started to wonder whether the new app I was trying out was really worth it.

    Meanwhile, some of you have literally told me to do what I am doing right now, which is make use of an email newsletter.

    While it’s taken me a long time to do it, I actually started this one a few months ago and have started others in the past. And the reason I am partial to this platform, at least for now, is that it offers the capacity for podcasting at the same time you can send a traditional newsletter. And…I like that. The podcasting function is currently in beta, so it may have some hiccups at times, but I’m down to try it out. And I hope that now that I’m actually sending this minipod newsletter out, that I will make myself more accountable to this, and that the people who read it and listen to it hold me accountable too.

    So. Now that that’s out of the way, onto what Loitering will cover in this message and in the future. And the truth is, I am not sure what its exact identity will be. I do hope to incorporate more location-based interviews, as I did before. But I’m also hoping — and this is a little bit different from before — to use Loitering as way to talk about and distribute current stories I’m working on.

    That said, I want to talk about one in particular that published last week on a new site for untold South Asian stories called The Juggernaut. The story builds off of reporting I’ve been pursuing for several years, and is a story that’s occupied much of my headspace for the last couple of months. The news hook is India’s election for its next prime minister, which is currently taking place in a multi-stage voting process. The story I wrote is a broader piece about what nationalism looks like for the Indian diaspora in the U.S., and what their political significance could be both here and in India.

    So basically, this is the kind of story that might only come from a person like me. And it’s the kind of story that I found, over the course of pitching it and discussing it with others, piques a lot of interests — and not just from people who are really into India. My gut feeling and observation is that the current conversation around white nationalism and global nationalism contributes to that. Nationalism has become almost a trigger word for some people, even though others do see it as akin to, say, patriotism. And so some people do have a more positive, rather than negative, identification with the word. But what are the fine lines between nationalism as patriotism, versus nationalism as something that’s more exclusionary and something to be afraid of? That’s what my story explores.

    So, if you’re reading this newsletter, I’m posting the link to it. It’s called, “Where Politics in India and California Collide.” You can also Google it if you’re listening to this. Just an fyi, it is behind a paywall, but you can try a free weeklong subscription to the site to test it out and read my story. The subscription model is a popular model for news outlets these days… just as a newsletter is a popular model for journalists! Whatever you think about either, please remember that trying to keep good reporting and storytelling sustainable is at the heart of both project… and that whatever support we could get is truly appreciated.

    So, before I log off, I want to share a few stories I’ve read and listened to recently that I think might stir a lot of thinking.

    The first is a piece I actually just read last night. It was my bedtime story. It’s a piece by Wil S. Hylton, and it’s in the New York Times Magazine. The title is, “My Cousin Was My Hero. Until the Day He Tried to Kill Me.” So, as you can imagine, with a title like that, this personal essay is not for the faint of heart. But I found it captivating, both for its eloquence, as well for the ideas it put forward around topics like masculinity, gender norms, mental illness, how others influence our own behaviors — all of which are things that aren’t necessarily easy to discuss.

    The second is an episode I listened to about a month ago from the producers at NPR’s Code Switch podcast called, “Why Is It So Hard to Talk About Israel?” And if you’re like me and interested in topics like diaspora and nationalism, and how we can distinguish between feeling “targeted” versus inhabiting a certain kind of “fragility,” then this episode delves into all of that. I also think there are a lot parallels between Jewish politics and Indian politics, so if you know me because of my India-oriented reporting, this episode might be intriguing for that reason as well.

    The third is another New York Times piece called “Women Did Everything Right. Then Work Got ‘Greedy.’” And this is not just about women’s work but the nature of work in general in the United States, and how it influences both our gender roles and our lives. And that’s by Claire Cain Miller.

    The last piece I’m recommending is something I read a couple of months ago now, and has stayed in my memory in part because not long after I read it, I met up with a friend who had similarly just read it! And we found ourselves talking a lot about it outside a tea lounge in Union City… It’s called, “The only metric of success that really matters is the one we ignore,” and it’s by Jenny Anderson.

    And that wraps up today’s edition of Loitering, the occasional, but lovable traveling minipod I am currently testing in newsletter format. As I mentioned, this minipod newsletter is a work in progress! I’d love your tips and feedback. Thanks for listening and reading, and have a great day. Goodbye! :)

    XOXO,

    Sonia

    P.S. Feel free to share this with those you think may be interested. I may do a more formal “announcement” about this minipod newsletter down the line, but for now, it’s nice to slowly build a community. :)

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    7 min

About Loitering

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Welcome to Loitering, the occasional but lovable traveling mini pod I am currently testing in newsletter format.