WisCon 35 / a reminder from the spirit world, or...?
Had a fine time at WisCon 35.
Dessert plate
The sci-fi strumpet shoes were part of my party attire this year.
This was my second year of attendance at this particular con, and I had chosen not to attend any cons for many years before last year. I think I've previously referred to the reasons why I would, as a science fiction fan, avoid attending large events full of like-minded people. Work schedules and a limited travel budget were among the reasons, but other reasons were the sometimes harsh realities of being a Black woman in SF/F fandom environments. As I grew older, I learned to be more selective about where I spent my time and money.
WisCon 35 Guest of Honor, author Nisi Shawl (in light orange chiffon) with author Andrea Hairston, one of the two 2012 WisCon 36 Guests of Honor; Debbie Notkin (not pictured) is the other.
Now that I'm more selective, I've enjoyed myself at SF/F events. I have enjoyed chatting with other progressively minded fans, been made welcome, and tried to put others at ease -- I can appreciate what it's like to feel shy and unsure how to function in environments where everyone else seems to already know each other. WisCon folks were friendly, curious, and easygoing. Everyone seemed to have an interesting career, talent or skill, personal pursuit or hobby, or anecdote about life in general. I enjoyed the conversations I had. Unfortunately, chronic sinusitis decided to accompany me on the trip, and I began to lose my voice by Day 3. I fought the illness off with over-the-counter remedies and what seemed like gallons of hot tea.
Flyers from some of the WisCon parties; Lt. Uhura makes an appearance on the fanvid party flyer
Lots of thought-provoking panels this year; parties, parties, and more parties; opportunities to wear unusual clothes (not quite costumes, but not what I'd wear at work either); great conversations with writers, readers, fans, and thoughtful people; excellent Wisconsin cheese; author readings; useful advice for writers. I gathered information of potential use at work and handed out my business card, but I also enjoyed talking to people about various and sundry topics unrelated to SF.
There were many SF/F authors I admire there, and they were surprisingly easy to talk to -- very sociable, witty, and down to earth despite their awe-inspiring accomplishments. Seriously, people were so accessible and just plain nice that I forgot to be intimidated by the awards, fellowships, multiple publications, etc. and simply enjoyed their company. Surely it's not any easier for them when people (fans) approach them with preconceived notions about what they are like, and they would like to put the public persona aside and chat easily about common interests, or just laugh at delightful anecdotes.
Fiction author and poet Sheree Renee Thomas wore these wonderful shoes to the closing ceremony! Pardon the low-resolution phone video. She said that they caught her attention because the pattern on the heels and platforms resembled traditional artwork created by Ndebele women of Southern Africa.
The closing ceremony included several moving, heartfelt tributes to the late author and educator Joanna Russ. Russ, Octavia Butler, and Ursula LeGuin were among the first women SF authors I ever read as an adolescent; their works changed my understanding of what science fiction writing is & can be.
An odd thing happened early on Monday morning. My sinusitis made it difficult for me to sleep, despite use of decongestants, hot water with lemon, etc. Somehow I'd forgotten to pack my neti pot. I was awake, coughing and rearranging the plump hotel pillows in the hopes that propping my head up would ease the symptoms. I had the window slightly open to allow a bit of fresh air in; I was not worried about safety as my room was on the 9th floor. Some outside light fell across the bed.
Suddenly, something I could not see struck the side of the bed hard enough to leave a temporary indentation on the mattress. It was a sudden movement, the kind you would make in order to get someone's attention. I saw the bedclothes crease under the impact. Immediately, I turned on the light; no one was there. The digital clock read 3:36 a.m.
I didn't feel as though anyone were (still) in the room with me, but I said aloud:
"Hey, I'm tired and I'm sick. I'm really not in the mood for this, and you need to go away, whatever you are. You should also know that I don't deal with spirits like you. I have a faith and I don't need a different one." Next I said the Lord's Prayer, the old-style Anglican one I learned as a child, which I revert to automatically even when attending church services with modern language in the liturgy. I wasn't afraid, I just didn't want to deal with such things at the time.
There were no further disturbances and I got a little bit of sleep before rising early for breakfast and to fulfill my 8:15 a.m. volunteer duties.
The following day, when my parents picked me up at the airport, informed me that Mr. H., a good "church family" friend had died in the hospital on Monday morning, about four hours after the thump on the side of my hotel bed.
I was sorry to hear the news. He was a remarkable man, devoted to community groups, youth mentoring, and civic activities. A former New Yorker of Barbadian origin, he extended friendliness and compassion to all he met. I was friendly with his late wife as well. Illness had kept him confined to the hospital for several weeks before I left town, and I knew that there was a possibility that he would pass away before I returned. However, one always hopes...even when the person is in pain and too ill to recover. He lived a rich life of kindness, hard work, honesty, and friendship, and was an excellent role model.
"He did all that he needed to to in life," people will say. "He was ready to go." All the same, he will be missed. I hope to assist at his funeral next week by helping at the altar or at the repast following the service; isn't it easier to stave off grief when we keep ourselves busy?
I am not a very mystical person. As mentioned previously, I'm actively Christian, pray daily, and believe in a spiritual world. I do not think that I have all of the answers about life, death, or parallel spiritual worlds. In my opinion, there is much that we do not know and cannot know. I don't watch horror movies or read paranormal fiction. Reading about fairies was entertaining as a child, but I rarely think about them as an adult. I'm a practical, mostly realistic person.
However, I'm not completely disconnected from certain African American cultural traditions which point to things like that thump on the bed or images in dreams as "signs" of spiritual occurrences related to the real world; if a deceased relative appears in a dream to offer practical advice I'll pay attention. I think that I realized that some bad news was coming, but I also knew it would not surprise me and that there was nothing I could do to change it, so I had to accept it. However, such signs are different from divination or working as a psychic. Maybe you've had an older relative who talked about signs which "just happened"? There was no way to direct such signs, to ask questions, to pursue answers. The signs simply announced themselves for unclear reasons -- you might learn of one death, but receive no signs of another -- and there was no way to determine why the signs were inconsistent.
Or maybe none of it is true at all, and we tell ourselves that we saw the signs in order to comfort ourselves in our sorrow. Maybe I was so dazed by heavy coughing that I was delirious. How can I really know? It seemed real at the time.
If I can learn anything from it, it's that I should try to honor Mr. H.'s memory by taking time to help a young person struggling with school, call or visit a lonely person, make a stranger feel welcome at church or a party, or donate to a homeless shelter. Mr. H. would have done such things.
Off to finish a fic chapter, sleep, recover, and prepare to return to work tomorrow.
I may post excerpts from some of my more interesting/coherent notes from some of the WisCon panels I attended. Topics ranged from publishing to fanfic to personal/professional resiliency for writers.
This entry was originally posted at http://zizi-west.dreamwidth.org/22620.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Dessert plate
The sci-fi strumpet shoes were part of my party attire this year.
This was my second year of attendance at this particular con, and I had chosen not to attend any cons for many years before last year. I think I've previously referred to the reasons why I would, as a science fiction fan, avoid attending large events full of like-minded people. Work schedules and a limited travel budget were among the reasons, but other reasons were the sometimes harsh realities of being a Black woman in SF/F fandom environments. As I grew older, I learned to be more selective about where I spent my time and money.
WisCon 35 Guest of Honor, author Nisi Shawl (in light orange chiffon) with author Andrea Hairston, one of the two 2012 WisCon 36 Guests of Honor; Debbie Notkin (not pictured) is the other.
Now that I'm more selective, I've enjoyed myself at SF/F events. I have enjoyed chatting with other progressively minded fans, been made welcome, and tried to put others at ease -- I can appreciate what it's like to feel shy and unsure how to function in environments where everyone else seems to already know each other. WisCon folks were friendly, curious, and easygoing. Everyone seemed to have an interesting career, talent or skill, personal pursuit or hobby, or anecdote about life in general. I enjoyed the conversations I had. Unfortunately, chronic sinusitis decided to accompany me on the trip, and I began to lose my voice by Day 3. I fought the illness off with over-the-counter remedies and what seemed like gallons of hot tea.
Flyers from some of the WisCon parties; Lt. Uhura makes an appearance on the fanvid party flyer
Lots of thought-provoking panels this year; parties, parties, and more parties; opportunities to wear unusual clothes (not quite costumes, but not what I'd wear at work either); great conversations with writers, readers, fans, and thoughtful people; excellent Wisconsin cheese; author readings; useful advice for writers. I gathered information of potential use at work and handed out my business card, but I also enjoyed talking to people about various and sundry topics unrelated to SF.
There were many SF/F authors I admire there, and they were surprisingly easy to talk to -- very sociable, witty, and down to earth despite their awe-inspiring accomplishments. Seriously, people were so accessible and just plain nice that I forgot to be intimidated by the awards, fellowships, multiple publications, etc. and simply enjoyed their company. Surely it's not any easier for them when people (fans) approach them with preconceived notions about what they are like, and they would like to put the public persona aside and chat easily about common interests, or just laugh at delightful anecdotes.
Fiction author and poet Sheree Renee Thomas wore these wonderful shoes to the closing ceremony! Pardon the low-resolution phone video. She said that they caught her attention because the pattern on the heels and platforms resembled traditional artwork created by Ndebele women of Southern Africa.
The closing ceremony included several moving, heartfelt tributes to the late author and educator Joanna Russ. Russ, Octavia Butler, and Ursula LeGuin were among the first women SF authors I ever read as an adolescent; their works changed my understanding of what science fiction writing is & can be.
An odd thing happened early on Monday morning. My sinusitis made it difficult for me to sleep, despite use of decongestants, hot water with lemon, etc. Somehow I'd forgotten to pack my neti pot. I was awake, coughing and rearranging the plump hotel pillows in the hopes that propping my head up would ease the symptoms. I had the window slightly open to allow a bit of fresh air in; I was not worried about safety as my room was on the 9th floor. Some outside light fell across the bed.
Suddenly, something I could not see struck the side of the bed hard enough to leave a temporary indentation on the mattress. It was a sudden movement, the kind you would make in order to get someone's attention. I saw the bedclothes crease under the impact. Immediately, I turned on the light; no one was there. The digital clock read 3:36 a.m.
I didn't feel as though anyone were (still) in the room with me, but I said aloud:
"Hey, I'm tired and I'm sick. I'm really not in the mood for this, and you need to go away, whatever you are. You should also know that I don't deal with spirits like you. I have a faith and I don't need a different one." Next I said the Lord's Prayer, the old-style Anglican one I learned as a child, which I revert to automatically even when attending church services with modern language in the liturgy. I wasn't afraid, I just didn't want to deal with such things at the time.
There were no further disturbances and I got a little bit of sleep before rising early for breakfast and to fulfill my 8:15 a.m. volunteer duties.
The following day, when my parents picked me up at the airport, informed me that Mr. H., a good "church family" friend had died in the hospital on Monday morning, about four hours after the thump on the side of my hotel bed.
I was sorry to hear the news. He was a remarkable man, devoted to community groups, youth mentoring, and civic activities. A former New Yorker of Barbadian origin, he extended friendliness and compassion to all he met. I was friendly with his late wife as well. Illness had kept him confined to the hospital for several weeks before I left town, and I knew that there was a possibility that he would pass away before I returned. However, one always hopes...even when the person is in pain and too ill to recover. He lived a rich life of kindness, hard work, honesty, and friendship, and was an excellent role model.
"He did all that he needed to to in life," people will say. "He was ready to go." All the same, he will be missed. I hope to assist at his funeral next week by helping at the altar or at the repast following the service; isn't it easier to stave off grief when we keep ourselves busy?
I am not a very mystical person. As mentioned previously, I'm actively Christian, pray daily, and believe in a spiritual world. I do not think that I have all of the answers about life, death, or parallel spiritual worlds. In my opinion, there is much that we do not know and cannot know. I don't watch horror movies or read paranormal fiction. Reading about fairies was entertaining as a child, but I rarely think about them as an adult. I'm a practical, mostly realistic person.
However, I'm not completely disconnected from certain African American cultural traditions which point to things like that thump on the bed or images in dreams as "signs" of spiritual occurrences related to the real world; if a deceased relative appears in a dream to offer practical advice I'll pay attention. I think that I realized that some bad news was coming, but I also knew it would not surprise me and that there was nothing I could do to change it, so I had to accept it. However, such signs are different from divination or working as a psychic. Maybe you've had an older relative who talked about signs which "just happened"? There was no way to direct such signs, to ask questions, to pursue answers. The signs simply announced themselves for unclear reasons -- you might learn of one death, but receive no signs of another -- and there was no way to determine why the signs were inconsistent.
Or maybe none of it is true at all, and we tell ourselves that we saw the signs in order to comfort ourselves in our sorrow. Maybe I was so dazed by heavy coughing that I was delirious. How can I really know? It seemed real at the time.
If I can learn anything from it, it's that I should try to honor Mr. H.'s memory by taking time to help a young person struggling with school, call or visit a lonely person, make a stranger feel welcome at church or a party, or donate to a homeless shelter. Mr. H. would have done such things.
Off to finish a fic chapter, sleep, recover, and prepare to return to work tomorrow.
I may post excerpts from some of my more interesting/coherent notes from some of the WisCon panels I attended. Topics ranged from publishing to fanfic to personal/professional resiliency for writers.
This entry was originally posted at http://zizi-west.dreamwidth.org/22620.html. Please comment there using OpenID.