Letter to my Children: How to Introduce Yourself

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My beloved children,

As you know, I grew up in Washington DC. Our nation’s capital, an epicenter of Global North power, and the accompanied jostling endemic to such power. There was a ubiquitous question in the cocktail party circuit. A refrain peeling out from many perfunctory conversations over square cheese bites.

“So, what do you do?”

You are really asking where I can be categorized in the ladder of capitalism. I see you.

Over the years I have responded in many ways. I have sometimes given them what they wanted.

“I am an XX.” XX being whatever W-2 or 1099 form profession I held - allowing for the conversation to proceed along its well worn grooves.

Sometimes, I would push back and force them to step outside the tired script. “Well, right now, I am standing here talking to you in this beautiful/cavernous/inviting space. I am drinking nice sparkle water and deciding if I want to have an olive.”

Sometimes, depending on my mood, I went off the rails entirely. “I have been reading James Baldwin lately. What a national treasure he is!”

Children, this past month I have felt smacked anew by the “what do you do” trope and was opining to my beloved antiracist triad about it. I now have a fourth option for how to answer this: that of our indigenous relatives.

Māori cultural practitioner, Amelia Butler, in her great TEDx talk, outlines three questions to create one’s personal Pepeha (traditional introduction of the Māori).

“Who is your mountain?” Either a mountain where your ancestors come from or a mountain where you currently live, hike, etc. If no mountains are obvious - than it could be a hill, prairie, canyon, etc

“Who is your river?” A lake, a waterfall, a stream, the ocean, a sea, a body of water where your ancestors are from or the stream where you grew up.

“Who is your gathering place?” A church, a dance studio, where do I go to gather with others, Ari W from Zingermans would probably call this your “third place.”

After these three questions you add the names of your ancestors and then, finally, your individual name. Emphasizing the importance of the community above the needs of the individual, your name goes last. The hierarchy of this introduction is clear, land, water, ancestors, then you - not a profession mentioned anywhere.

So, as I chew on this here is what I am going to say next time someone asks me that question. (and yes, I will include the citation to honor the indigenous sharing.)

“What do I do? Well, I am going to try my hand at a Pepeha as taught by a Māori teacher. Born in the humid swamp of Washington DC, I tend earth near the Landsman Kill which flows into the Hudson. My forebears came from Germany, France, and England. I mother two children who grow every time my back is turned. Corinna, my name, means maiden - hopefully a barefoot maiden.”

A barefoot maiden dancing, yes please.

I hope by the time the two of you get into the world there is a better default question at cocktail parties among strangers.

Because, What do you do? is both insulting and insane. Then again, so is capitalism. We are all entangled in this capitalist web on a cellular level (as I have expounded before).

So you mother taps away at the monolith that is the energy of capitalism… in the hopes it will be less insane in the future.

Tap tap tap.

Tap.

I love you both SO much - growing in height and angles every time my back is turned.