One of my favorite stories to tell is how I became friends with Abram*. I had only been in New Orleans for a few months. I was riding my bicycle to the downtown library when I was hit by a car at a stupid intersection. I was brought to the hospital by a stranger, who may have been the person who hit me, and dropped at the emergency room. Before cell phones, the hospital called my house and left a message for my roommate and visiting friend. I can’t remember why, but my friend Jamie had also called, maybe to meet for coffee or say hello. But word of my accident was passed along to him and, realizing he was the only person we knew with a car, Jamie and his best friend Abram arrived at the hospital as I was being released. I had a broken collarbone, staples in my head, and a fractured ankle. When we arrived at my house, Jamie carried a bag full of leafy greens and vitamins and Abram asked me if I wanted help walking. I stubbornly limped with my crutch to the door. After several painful minutes, Abram told me I was doing a great job but that was enough for now. He carried me up the stairs to my apartment.

Abram gave me a copy of his second book with his phone number written inside. We didn’t hang out often, but he always had encouraging words for my projects and impulsive choices. When I texted him last month to ask if I could use his second book as a prompt for Keep Writing, he was flattered and asked for a few copies. He was one of the first people to sign up for Keep Writing, back when it was a mailing list on a clipboard at the New Orleans Book Fair. The initial price was I was $1 for 2 months because I wasn’t even sure if it was an idea that would work.

I’ve appreciated Abram’s ability to talk to strangers, be forward with his opinions and to ask others good questions. He has encouraged others to write their stories, through the Neighborhood story Project and as a writing teacher at the University of New Orleans.

I do keep a running list of ideas for Keep Writing, and still sometimes when I sit down to design the card, nothing fits. This month, while pacing my house trying to make another idea work, I thought about something I had said in a text to a stranger. I was trying to sort out the shipment of something I had ordered and after having to clarify details repeatedly, I apologized and told them that I had a head injury and that I easily get confused. It is so helpful for me to preface conversations that way but also I feel some shame— like I am making things too personal and awkward. I thought about the ways we don’t say what is really happening, especially now as we deal with the mental health effects of living through a pandemic and grief and depression. There are many obstacles to clear communication. Maybe we think or process in a different way, or we don’t speak the same language or because we are grieving or tired. I want to approach conversation and interactions with more compassion.

So I borrowed Abram’s idea of writing our background thoughts on a shirt. What do you want people to know when they are speaking to you? What are you thinking about as you navigate the world? What could you share that might make communication easier? What do I need to understand as we speak?

Keep Writing 151 went in the mail November 21 2021. Im looking forward to your responses which will be shared on tumblr!

*It is also possible I met Jamie or Abram when they were selling their books by driving city to city and talking to strangers. I was in Boston then, visiting before heading to New Orleans. What long lives we live.