Doorways in Time

The wonderful Jánet Jones wrote a brilliant article “A Black Friend Is Not an Alibi” in response to the eclipse “storm” that’s been breaking over the astrology community over the last few weeks. I’ve been thinking deeply about the storm and the article ever since. This storm touched on me personally because the main character in this Leo style drama was an astrology teacher of mine for many years, and until recently, I worked for his school.

In Jones’ article, she mentions that the use of the toxic “N” word in a video was the doorway into the public realm of accountability for racist behavior. Following the speaking of this harmful word, there was mention of the history of the KKK, a history that was portrayed ( in the video) as truth. It later emerged that this “history” was actually a revisionist version, long debunked and based on propaganda issued by the Klan itself. Following the release of this public video, there was a call for the teacher who spoke these hurtful words to issue an apology and make amends. What came then was a lukewarm non-apology and no sign of real amends, accountability or deeper reflection.

Adding to these public postings, I was made aware that this teacher had been asked to implement anti-racist trainings into the astrology school’s curriculum for years prior and had refused. For all these reasons and more, I decided to leave my position as a teacher at the school.

A doorway is a threshold, a place of entry and exit, where movement and change are possible. In this case the doorway has opened into an uncomfortable awareness of how white supremacy has shaped the astrological community.

As I reflect on this unfolding situation in relation to my own journey as an astrologer, it inspires me to also travel through my own doorway between the present and the past. As I move through that portal of time, I encounter one of  the most beloved humans to ever grace my life, as both a mentor and a friend. The thought of using her as an alibi is unthinkable, but I question myself anyway: how did my whiteness affect our relationship? How could I have shown up as a better white ally, human being, mentee? As I travel further back in time, I  find I am circling in on one of the first stories she ever told me.

It’s hard for me to even write about this, so how hard must it have been for her to live it? She’s been gone for over a decade and I have turned this story over in my mind many times since she passed.

She told me the basic outline not long after we first met. I was a 21 year old junior in college, a white, hard of hearing, confused girl, coming off a bad breakup. She was in her early 40’s, a married black artist and astrologer, whose son had recently left for college. We met through a mutual friend and instantly recognized we were strange kindred spirits.

The first time we had a friend date we giggled for hours, she told me she thought in a past life we’d been 13 together-young and carefree-I concurred.
What followed was a magical mystery tour of a friendship that lasted almost 25 years before she passed of a chronic illness I believe in my heart was caused by systemic racism. She shared her passions of astrology, herbs and flower essences with me, happy to have someone who loved them as much as she did.

I don’t remember what brought about the story in question. I might have asked her why she didn’t leave the house much, or made a comment about how weird it was to see a John Birch Society office around the corner from her.

What she told me left an indelible mark, as I watched someone I loved try to heal from the trauma of white supremacy while living in the midst of its pervasive poison. 

It took years for all the layers of her story to evolve and settle and even now I’m still trying to understand, to wrap my head around how strong she was, how scared she must have been. What bravery it took her to stay in place after what happened, to continue creating, laughing and being. She made a life of daily courage, cultivated art from another realm, shaping fierce humor from tragedy and wielding a self so profound it reverberates among all those who loved her to this very day.
The story is this: 

It was not too long after her and she and her white husband left Oakland, moving to a suburb in Sonoma County to raise their young son in what they thought would be a safe, tucked away oasis. She’d grown up in the Civil Rights era in Philadelphia and as a black woman, was already well acquainted with racism. Maybe she thought the suburbs would be a better place to be a mixed race couple in the 70’s, or she chose an area that had good schools, or was near the nature she loved. However it happened, one day in the mid 1970’s she was walking her toddler son through her new neighborhood and a man in a white KKK outfit began to follow them. 

She got her and her baby safely home. She was terrified, sure that they would be murdered at any moment. It was reported, there was no one arrested, no consequences, no resolution.

She never really fully recovered from this experience. Yet in spite of this trauma, she survived and thrived, rising above a multitude of attacks she had encountered through a lifetime of living as a Black woman in America.

In the aftermath, she realized a John Birch Society had taken up residence ½ a block from her house. For this reason and more, she had great fear around leaving the house, especially alone. By the time I met her, over 15 years had passed since this episode. She was angry, she was afraid, she was also determined to not let her fear overcome her courage. 

Her home became her oasis, a sanctuary and temple she created in defiance of everything outside the doors of her self created space.

Her stunning paintings decorated the walls, shades of colors she’d chosen to support the feng shui, fountains and books and plants. Her office overflowed with art supplies and a library of astrology, herb and esoteric books. Outside, her garden was filled with medicinal plants, fruit trees and wind chimes. 

One year she got an ice cream maker and I’d come over and we’d spend the day making and eating freshly made ice cream, talking astrology and having long conversations about everything we both loved.

She had so many healing tools: Flower essences, gardening, EFT tapping before it was a thing, tuning forks, self-acupressure, meditation. She journeyed through every healing modality I’d never heard of and took me along with her for a wild and fun ride. Later in her life, she decided a big, fierce and loving dog would add a layer of safety and security that she was still missing. Thus began a grand canine research project to find the best dog for the job. A Tibetan Mastiff became her guardian angel, bringing deep love, companionship and peace of mind to her last days. Along the way she also taught me about dog behavior and nurtured my own deep love of dogs, which besides her incredible teachings and her astrology book collection, was my favorite inheritance.

I can’t imagine a better friend and mentor, for so many reasons. Of course when she died somewhat suddenly, I was devastated. What she died of was treatable, if… if she hadn’t been completely traumatized at a young age by the racism of the medical system. If she’d received adequate care and felt safe to go to the doctor. If she hadn’t felt terrified of strangers coming into her space. So many “if’s”.....

When I think of what my beloved friend and mentor lived through, of the brutality and dehumanization she experienced living as a Black woman in America, I am enraged and heartbroken. I don’t understand what the f$Ick is wrong with us as humans that this racism and dehumanization continues, on and on and on, through the centuries. It sickens me to the depths of my being and at the same time propels me to aspire to grow and learn how I can do better.

Pluto in Aquarius

I don’t have any answers on how to solve White Supremacy, I wish I did. What I do have is hope that one day humans will finally learn to treat each other, the earth and all of its being with real, deep, sustaining care .

It is always possible that the astrological community could rise to the best manifestation of Pluto in Aquarius and use this recent conflict for inspiration, as a true evolutionary call to dig deeper and learn from the current divide emerging between astrologers of different generations, beliefs and opinions. We could see this schism as a catalyst to find the space to explore how we are all shaped by a shared cultural history that is rooted in systematic oppression. Will we? It remains to be seen….I am curious to hear your thoughts readers.

How would you like to see the call for collective change that Pluto in Aquarius demands? What are your visions for our shared future? How can we dream a more inspired, loving, creative dream awake together?