by clicking the "Next" arrow.
by clicking on the page.
the page around when zoomed in by dragging it.
the zoom using the slider when zoomed-in.
by clicking on the zoomed-in page.
by entering text in the search field, and select "This Issue" or "All Issues"
by clicking on thumbnails to select pages, and then press the print button.
displays sections with thumbnails and descriptions.
displays a slider of thumbnails. Click on a page to jump.
allows you to browse the full archive.
about your subscription?
Mindful : April 2019
What about when you left the Bronx? When I went to boarding school in Connecticut, it was the first time I had ever been in a predominately white setting. I was trying to get a good education, wondering about my emo- tional safety. As I acquired more social capital, more privilege, I moved further away from people who looked like me. As a Black person, every time I walked into a room, there often were very few people who looked like me. In those spaces, I’ve had to be mind- ful, to know whether it was safe to be Black. How has your under- standing of mindfulness changed? I’m still Black, still a woman, still in a mostly white setting. But now part of being mindful is under- standing the power and privilege I have acquired on my journey—and remem- bering where I started, where I have come from. Can you give me an example? I commute from Harlem, where I live, to New Haven, where I work. Both train stations are located in neighborhoods similar to where I grew up. When I get off the train, there are people who are struggling with drug addiction. I see people ignore them. I want to recognize and appreci- ate their full humanity. I make eye contact and say hello. I constantly check myself when I’m starting to be biased or judgmental. I want to see the beauty—the art—in what is around me. You have a twin sister who was diagnosed with a chronic illness when you were much younger. Yes, that’s another piece of mindfulness for me: under- standing that every single day I have the privilege of waking up without pain. My sister does not. I pray every day, asking for her not to suffer. Sometimes the privilege we forget about is our ability to not feel pain in our body. Do you have a formal practice? At night, I do a five- to- seven-minute breathing and loving-kindness exercise. It’s my grounding. Wish- ing well to myself and to others, asking what I can do to be better, thinking about people who did something that I appreciate—it’s like a prayer. And I actively let go of any negative energy— daily traumas and slights, any harm that people have done to me. What is your abiding passion? To make the world a better place. Wherever I am, whatever work I do, Iwillfindawaytomake that happen. My mother sacrificed so much for my sisters and me. It would be disrespectful for me not to make that same effort. ● “BEING MINDFUL—MINDFUL OF MY BODY AND ITS SAFETY—WAS WHAT KEPT ME ALIVE. MINDFULNESS WAS NOT SOMETHING THATIGOTTODOBY SITTING IN A QUIET SPACE AND MEDITATING.” 38 mindful April 2019 walk the talk