Dear Dean Magazine: Issue 23 - November 2023

DEAR DEAN 

M A G A Z I N E 

+ 

+ 

V O L . 2 2 | N O V E M B E R 2 2 , 2 0 2 3 

F E A T U R E D S T O R Y 

PALESTINE & ISRAEL 

IN BLACK AND WHITE 

+ 

+ 

Plus!

THE GOODS 

03 Welcome From Myron 

06 

Palestine, Hamas, and Nonviolence 

by Myron J. Clifton 

09 Remembering Elijah McClain 


16 FISK Jubilee Singers: A 50 Year Balm 

in Gilead 150 Years Later 

by Y. Kendall 

20 

26 

32 

35 

40 

42 

46 

Hot Take! x3 

Palestine & Israel in Black and White 


Thread Of The Month 


Mom Finally Gets to Cook 

Thanksgiving Dinner 


Myron's HIT or MISS List 

Movie Reviews / My Favorite 

Things Streaming Right Now 

The Little Red Dinosaur 

by Katya Juliet Lerner 

D E A R D E A N M A G A Z I N E , W E B S I T E , B L O G S & 

B O O K S A R E D E S I G N E D B Y K A T Y A J U L I E T L E R N E R

November 2023 

Welcome! 

We give thanks to you, reader, for your support, 

comments, submitted articles, and for sharing Dear 

Dean Magazine with your followers, friends, and 

family members. 

And we recognize that as we celebrate Thanksgiving 

we do so on stolen land that was terraformed by 

stolen people to build a society that still favor the 

few over the many. 

In this issue we write about the need for nonviolence 

from pro-Palestine protesters, how prayer does not 

prevent mass shootings, and we remember the 

beautiful soul of Elijah McClain. 

We publish thought-provoking articles on 

government, gender, race, and politics, while also 

providing space for movie and television reviews, 

poetry, short stories, food, pets, fun, and a 

welcoming platform for independent authors and 

writers. 

And we provide this space for free – because our 

motto is and will remain: Some Art Deserves to be 

Free. 

In honor of Thanksgiving, check out our feature 

article about one mom’s first time preparing a full 

thanksgiving feast. 

All your favorites are here as well – What’s 

Streaming, Television Reviews, Hot Takes, Hit/Miss, 

and don’t miss our latest book advertisements from 

our readers. 

There’s a lot here and we hope you enjoy it all, share 

it all, and let us know on social media (see our 

contributor handles with articles). 

Enjoy this month’s issue, please support the writers 

and the authors whose books we advertise for free. 

We appreciate you as a reader and we thank you for 

sharing the magazine to your social media network, 

friends, and family. 

And we look forward to seeing YOUR contribution 

soon. 

Myron 

DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | November 22, 2023 | p.3

About Me 

Website | Bookshop | Twitter 

Myron J. Clifton is an author of novels Jamaal’s Incredible Adventures in the Black Church; 

Monuments: A Deadly Day at Jefferson Park; BLM-PD: Revenge was Inevitable; Her Legend Lives in 

You: The Untold Story Honoring the Goddess & Our Daughters; and short story collection, We 

Couldn’t Be Heroes, and Other Stories. Also check out his weekly podcast, Voice Memos, his FREE 

digital magazine, Dear Dean Magazine, and his weekly blog at both Medium and DearDean.com. 

Myron lives in Sacramento, California, and is an avid Bay Area sports fan. He likes comic books, telling 

stories about his late mom to his beloved daughter Leah, and talking to his friends. BOOKS ON 

AMAZON 

Loving Myron J. Clifton's Content? 

S H O W Y O U R S U P P O R T W I T H 

A C O N T R I B U T I O N T O D E A R D E A N ! 

Advertising / Contributions 

words@deardeanpublishing.com 


Jamaal's Incredible Adventures in the 

Black Church by Myron J. Clifton 

Before Jamaal's seventeenth birthday, he’s appointed as his preacher uncle’s 

designated driver and unwilling personal confidant. Behind the fine outfits and 

hats, behind the delicious cooking, Jamaal is exposed to crazy aunties, sexy church 

sisters, corrupt pastors, and predator deacons. A good kid who just wants time to 

finish his homework and kiss a girl his own age, Jamaal is dragged through the 

strange world of the Black church. You best pray for him. 


PALESTINE, HAMAS, 

AND NONVIOLENCE 

F E A T U R E D A R T I C L E 

Myron J. Clifton 

Palestinians depending on Hamas to get a State or to 

protect you … Proves again Dr. Martin Luther King was 

right in his nonviolent approach to gain rights. 

There was never a violent solution that Black 

Americans could win inside this nation — and that 

remains true no matter what keyboard revolutionaries 

say. 

These stateside pro-Hamas folk thinking they’ll change 

U.S. foreign policy by painting fences outside the White 

House, defacing statues, or wishing for Putin to lead 

them, will learn very fast that the folk in most danger 

are the people of color advocating for such nonsense. 

Those privileged college adults, baristas, and the like 

who are white and leading so many of the protests, 

and who are proclaiming they’re socialists, Hitler 

lovers, or Marxists.. are no different than their 

counter-culture Woodstock grandparents who 

stopped protesting the Vietnam war and are now 

solidly republican voters. 

They’re mad and lashing out because they always 

assume they not only have a right to be heard but 

that everyone else has an obligation to listen to them. 

As nonwhite people ask often: Who raised these folk? 

We know who did. Look at the Republican Party - 

that’s who raised them. 

They’ll never take up arms against the U.S., but they’ll 

tell you YOU should. 

You remember the response when Black folk 

gathered in DC a few years ago? The same law 

enforcement response that was decidedly missing on 

January 6th was out in full force. 


M Y R O N J . C L I F T O N 

Response to Black protesters vs. the response to white 

protesters: 

As Black folk’s only chance to change domestic policies 

were to vote, register to vote, vote again, march — repeat 

for each election into each next generation. 

It’s not pretty or glamorous detractors will tell you. 

They’re lying. 

It was beautiful seeing our folk dressing up to vote. 

Crossing bridges in unity with supporters -white, 

Hispanic/Latino, Asian, and of course Jewish. 

There’s beauty in unity of purpose and glamour in 

progress. 

And it was and is hard. 

The response to you if you’re waving the Palestine flag or 

calling for destruction of Israel or celebrating Putin or 

any of his henchmen will be worse than how they 

postured against Black folk. It’ll be worse than how law 

enforcement and white citizens who attacked Black and 

Jewish protests in the 1950’s and 1960’s. 

Your best chance to change U.S. foreign policy is at the 

ballot box. 

We still fight to vote. Mississippi conveniently ran out of 

ballots in the areas where Black people vote — two hours 

after voting began. Democrats had to sue for emergency 

ballots and to extend voting hours. Republicans sued to 

stop allowing voting — effectively disenfranchising 

thousands of Black voters. It is how white republicans 

maintain power in predominantly Black cities, counties, 

and states. 

So yes, we still fight to vote and to overcome 

republicans’ resistance to nation-sharing with us, with 

indigenous peoples, and with all marginalized 

communities. But share they must and will because we 

don’t back down. 

Your only chance. 

We get mad. We vote. We advocate. We protest. 



Black Americans provided a template for you to effect 

change. Defacing, destroying, attacking Jewish people, or 

ripping down Missing Children posters are not effective 

and will not effect change. 

The American experiment evolves, however slowly. 

January 6th was a strong attempt to force the country to 

devolve, but that failed and continues to fail. 

And if I can point out something important about that day 

every Black and brown family talked about it would be 

this. 

If white people couldn’t stop America or force it to bend 

to its will -the demographic that is armed like no other 

population in the planet, you certainly cannot. 

Because as that picture shows you will be met with lethal 

force — no matter which party is in charge. 

Dr. King and Black families and allies showed the nation 

and the world how to move America forward. 

That method still works. Use our template and find 

success. 

Use the other way and you’ll find certain failure. 

That method still works. Use our template and find 

success. 

Use the other way and you’ll find certain failure. 


May Elijah McClain be at peace. 

And may the cops who murdered him never know peace or contentment. 

We are never allowed rest from the domestic terrorists who’ve been at uninterrupted war against us 

since we won our emancipation. 

We can never forget because it never ends. 


F E A T U R E D B O O K 

Marcus A. Banks-Bey, M.Div 

Gathered experience and elevation gained from years as an Army & hospital chaplain, mental health worker 

and clinical psychology doctoral student, equips Marcus A Banks to aid in journeying the reader to 

intelligently question their past belief systems and future creative visions of thought and identity as a 

purposeful means to developing their own personal reality for establishing their “true identity.” 

Within Dig Deep lies practical language, developed to help the reader grow the relationship with 

themselves, and understand why nurturing the relationships we have with our Faith, Family, Friends, Fitness 

and Finances will support our Purpose, Planning, Patience, and Persistent-Perseverance. This system helps 

one establish their own 5×5 Side by Side Guide through life. Dig Deep was written following a series of 

extremely challenging life occurrences, including the suicide of the author’s brother, Iverson; divorce; and 

war deployment. From this place, the author engaged in the process of self-discovery, self-awareness and 

meaning. 



Looking back on the Before and the events leading up to the After, it was impossible to say precisely when 

everything went to shit. Understanding the importance of human connection, a lone trader braves the 

Weeps and an emerging cult to unite the survivors of a shattered world. The Before and The After is a tale 

of loss, acceptance, and finding one’s truth in a barren future. 

Catherine Sequeira 

Catherine Sequeira is a veterinarian, author, and teacher. Originally from California, she has lived in 

Switzerland, New York, Oklahoma, and Scotland. She is an avid tabletop gamer and was all verklempt the 

first time her older son kicked her ass at Lords of Waterdeep. She would live in the garden if she could, 

pretending to be Snow White or channeling her inner Poison Ivy. When the weather chases her inside, you 

can find her reading sci-fi and fantasy or binging horror shows. She lives in Northern California with her 

partner, younger son, cat, and rescue dragon (the bearded kind, that is). 


CLICK TO MEET 

THE HOSTS! 

MYRON 

JENN 

Two longtime friends have informative, yet 

brief discussions about multitudinous topics. 

NEW EPISODES ON FRIDAYS! 


MYRON J. CLIFTON & JENNIFER VANLAANEN'S PODCAST 

VOICE MEMOS REVIEWS 

Listen Now! 

Stay 

Shallow! 

Like listening to your BFFs June 2, 2022 

kjlerner


The intimate and heartbreaking story of a Black undercover police officer who famously kneeled by the 

assassinated Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr--and a daughter's quest for the truth about her father. 

In the famous photograph of the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. on the balcony of Memphis's 

Lorraine Motel, one man kneeled down beside King, trying to staunch the blood from his fatal head wound 

with a borrowed towel. 

This kneeling man was a member of the Invaders, an activist group that was in talks with King in the days 

leading up to the murder. But he also had another identity: an undercover Memphis police officer reporting 

on the activities of this group, which was thought to be possibly dangerous and potentially violent. This 

kneeling man is Leta McCollough Seletzky's father.. 

Marrell McCollough was a Black man working secretly with the white power structure, a spy. This was so 

far from her understanding of what it meant to be Black in America, of everything she eventually devoted 

her life and career to, that she set out to learn what she could about his life, his actions and motivations. 

But with that decision came risk. What would she uncover about her father, who went on to a career at the 

CIA, and did she want to bear the weight of knowing? 


We Couldn't Be Heroes 

Short Story Collection: We Couldn't Be Heroes And Other Stories What if a Black 

man could control the weather, God called 911, or aliens took our souls? Would 

we notice? Would we care?... Enjoy the entire collection, seven stories in all, on 

earth and in space and in any order. 



Y. Kendall 

Sixteen attractive, talented, committed young people 

stride proudly onstage in October 2022 to carry on a 

tradition begun in 1871. At that time, when the 

university was only five years old, Fisk treasurer and 

music director, a white professor at a black school, 

ironically named George Leonard White, formed the 

original eight-member choir to tour, earning money to 

keep the fledgling university afloat. Consisting of newly 

freed slaves or their relatives, the choir traveled with a 

pianist and a pastor, Henry Bennett. 

It was only midway through their maiden tour that they 

found their joyful name. In an act of true charity, they 

had donated their meager proceeds to victims of the 

Great Chicago Fire, so they had no money to keep 

traveling and the dangers of travel for freed slaves was 

no small matter. Should they keep going or go on home. 

As we say in the South, they “prayed on it.” 

Rather than wallow in discouragement, they regrouped, 

naming themselves “Jubilee Singers” after the Jewish 

Year of Jubilee, celebrating their recent liberation from 

bondage. 


Y . K E N D A L L 

Though much of the music is uplifting, songs like “An’ I Cry” 

(arr. Noah Ryder) with its poignant lyrics: 

And on this Sunday afternoon 150 years later, I am in the 

audience they are liberating from the cares of the world 

through singing joyfully of a time when cares were 

paramount, when oppressive societal rules meant they had 

to hide their pain of the here and now, aim their happiness 

to the hereafter. That “hereafter” was what W.E.B. DuBois, 

himself a Fisk alum, called “double-consciousness,” a 

double metaphor that white people were meant to hear as 

heaven, but more often than not, black people were meant 

to hear as escape to the North, or heaven, or both, 

whichever came first. 

We live in roiling tumultuous times. As hatred and violence 

grow, as we question the fellowship of our fellow citizens, 

we sometimes need respite, some way of seeing signs of 

goodness and hope around us, some way to commune with 

one another in peace and harmony. Dressed in neatly 

tailored black and white, these fine musicians let the music 

tell the story of Jubilee Singers through the ages, never 

turning back, keeping the vow they made when they first 

took their name, singing: 

Done made my vow to the Lord, and I never will turn back. 

I will go, I shall go, to see what the end will be. 

Sometimes I feel like my Savior died in vain, 

An’ I cry. 

Sometimes I feel like I lost my soul again, 

An’ I cry, 

reminds me of periods of hopelessness, then and now. This 

solemn mood inflects my take on the jaunty number that 

follows. 

As they sing “I’m A-rolling Along in an Unfriendly World” 

(arr. Thomas Rutling) with such crisp enunciation and such 

innocent determination, I can’t help but look at the 

beautiful skin tones ranging from creamy bisque to 

deepest mahogany, the hair styles ranging from short afros 

through lightly processed curls and weaves, to waistlength 

braids. Each of these musicians, even then in 2022, 

could be stopped and harassed or worse, just as their 

predecessors were, just because… 

I sit there remembering Jordan Davis, the black teenager, 

shot and killed in 2012 because a white man thought his 

music was too loud. Initially that man was convicted of 

“attempting” to kill the other teens in the SUV, not of 

actually killing Jordan. Lord help me. 

I sit there remembering Isley Brothers lyrics from 1975: 

I try to play my music, they say my music too loud 

I try talking about it, I get the big runaround 

And when I roll with the punches, I get knocked on the ground 

By all this bullshit going down. 

T H E F I S K 

J U B I L E E S I N G E R S 



And that makes me bristle, seethe, fume. That, and what I 

recognized as the mini-Motown moves. This uptempo song 

had the audience swaying in their seats but the choir 

barely moved. 

Telling the truth about white people to white people can 

exact a terrible price on one’s career and opportunities… 

Every professional and activist black person I know is out 

here playing a game of *risk management.* How much 

*can* I say around these white folks, before these white 

folks come for me. And what punishments am I willing to 

accept in order to say it… 

This sad situation preserved a less uplifting part of Jubilee 

Singer tradition, a tradition later continued by Motown 

performers like the Supremes. Because our black bodies 

were historically denigrated by comparisons to animals, 

oversexed beasts, we had to prove our humanity by 

denying our humanity. Singers in both styles were taught 

we needed to restrict our movements to the music, 

restrain the joy our bodies felt in the music, reject our 

African traditions of the music in order to make our 

oppressors feel better. 

And I was doing it too, as a writer. I was restricting, 

restraining, rejecting my movement, my joy, my instincts. 

Why? 

I wanted to write about the Jubilee Singers, their history, 

the continuing hate, the Jordan Davis murder, the required 

rejection of our treasured traditions all in service of white 

comfort, so I contacted the editor of the local blog for 

which I do pieces on the performing and visual arts. I 

mentioned my intent to go a bit more political in the piece, 

making it a literary fusion of review, current events, and 

personal narrative. “Fine, as long as you are responsible.” 

“Responsible.” As if I were a teenager, as opposed to a 

mature woman, for whom responsible behavior was not a 

given. That made me bristle, seethe, fume. 

In a powerful 11/5/22 Tweet thread on the disrespect 

MSNBC showed to weekend host Tiffany Cross when they 

abruptly, publicly, decided to non-renew her contract, Elie 

Mystal, Harvard Law School grad, writer for The Nation, 

author of the New York Times bestseller Allow Me to 

Retort: A Black Guy’s Guide to the Constitution, and all around 

good-trouble gadfly, said: 

I might engage in more risk-loving behavior than the 

average bear, but there are absolutely things, true things, I 

don’t say or write because the white punishment I will face 

is too damn high. 

I have written a wider variety of pieces than anyone 

else the blog publishes. When contacting major arts 

groups, the editor consistently refers to me as “one of 

[the blog’s] best journalists.” Like an away team on the 

Starship Enterprise, I’m consistently sent where no 

writer for the site has gone before. Symphony? Send 

me. Ballet? Send me. Hard Bop Jazz? Send me. Modern 

dance? Send me. Cabaret acts? Send me. 

But that “responsible” hit me where it would have 

really hurt had I not built up a decades-old emotional 

callus, had I not been practicing risk management all 

my adult life. As it was, I felt only a mild throbbing, a 

throbbing that only increased when I realized I hadn’t 

trusted the editor. I hadn’t thought the site was ready 

for the truth. That’s why I had given a heads up, why I 

was censoring myself. And the response verified my 

lack of trust. I sent a “PG version” where my words, 

like the Supremes’ hips, barely moved. Jesus wept. 

I took the real version, the polished, but unvarnished 

truth version to my Friday night writing group, a 

multi-generational group of African American poets, 

novelists, essayists. They understood. They 

understood holding ourselves back, like the bodies of 

the young musicians on the stage. 

And yet, still we sing. Like the Jubilee Singers, we 

click 

harmonize, we blend, we take solos, we back each 

other up. We try to give something warm and loving to 

a world that rarely repays us in kind. We sing. 



We sing because we must. Perpetual fear and anger and 

parsing our every word or finger pop — all of that is soul 

destroying, so I sink back into the music. 

In the gorgeous Roland Carter arrangement of “In Bright 

Mansions,” the acme of a stellar program, I find a balm in 

the Gilead that is Tennessee. As the choir holds an 

extended chord that seems like time seeping into eternity, 

seamlessly taking breaths, the lower voices repeatedly, 

deeply, gently intoning the voice of God’s son in John 14:2 

In my Father’s house, there are many mansions: if it were 

not so, I would have told you. 

“In Bright Mansions” sung by the Moses Hogan Singers 

“In Bright Mansions” sung by The Symphonists, a choir from 

Ghana 

And with the generosity the Fisk Jubilee Singers have 

shown since the group’s inception, taking their 

arrangements across the country, around the world, and 

back home again, they provide the same respite from the 

troubles of the world now as they did all those generations 

ago, over a century ago. 

Back then, they saved the bricks and mortar of Fisk 

University with music of the spirit. Now, they soothe the 

spirit of the world. And although I feel a bit disconsolate 

that such respite is still needed, it is nonetheless 

wonderful, truly wonderful, that they are still here to 

provide it. 

BTW: The editor, who had published everything else I had 

written for the site within days, eventually published my 

piece, but it was weeks later. By then, I thought it had 

quietly disappeared. 

Y. Kendall 

A Stanford-trained musicologist who recently took a 

career swerve after 20 years in Texas. With a Columbia 

MFA in writing & translation she moved back home to TN. 


Myron's 

HOT TAKE 

#1 

Some people are really surprised to know that the 

U.S. president isn't president of the world. 

Folk out there really thinking the US is the main 

character in every war on the planet and that the US 

president can end them all if he wants to. 

Sheesh. 

#2 

Remember George W. Bush was mocked for mangling 

words and using them incorrectly and it was theorized 

he didn’t read so he didn’t know how to correctly use 

words in context? 

Anyway, there are folk throwing around “Apartheid” 

“Genocide” and “Slavery,” which reminds me of how 

George W. Bush talked. 

#3 

Political strategists waiting their turn to go on CNN, 

MSNBC, and Sunday Morning News shows… to double 

down on why President Biden should step down, why 

VP Harris should be replaced, and why they already 

hate The Marvels movie. 



Coming Soon! 

Dr. Josie Harjo is used to cutting up dead bodies. As a veterinary pathologist at a state diagnostic lab, it’s her 

job to figure out the cause of death in a never-ending parade of various non-human species. Most cases are 

cut-and-dried, and rarely will a carcass roll in that gets her racking her brain. 

When a rancher shows up with a dead horse, Josie thinks it’s going to be a typical day at the office. She 

quickly learns that this is the third suspicious death in as many days, and the clock is ticking to figure out 

what’s going on before any more lives are lost. 

The necropsy is frustratingly unremarkable, and Josie is forced to follow all leads no matter how implausible. 

Tensions rise as the rancher starts pointing a finger at a disgruntled employee and an assault charge forces 

the cops to start asking questions. With a hefty insurance payout on the table, Josie realizes that she can’t 

ignore the possibility that the rancher might be involved. As the pathologist leading the case, Josie has to 

wonder, is it just coincidence or is there something more nefarious killing horses at JW Ranch? 


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DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | November 22, 2023 | p.23


In anticipation of the fiftieth anniversary of the landmark Brown v. Board of Education decision, Catherine 

Prendergast draws on a combination of insights from legal studies and literacy studies to interrogate 

contemporary multicultural literacy initiatives, thus providing a sound historical basis that informs current 

debates over affirmative action, school vouchers, reparations, and high-stakes standardized testing. 

As a result of Brown and subsequent crucial civil rights court cases, literacy and racial justice are firmly 

enmeshed in the American imagination—so much so that it is difficult to discuss one without referencing 

the other. Breaking with the accepted wisdom that the Brown decision was an unambiguous victory for the 

betterment of race relations, Literacy and Racial Justice: The Politics of Learning after Brown v. Board of 

Education finds that the ruling reinforced traditional conceptions of literacy as primarily white property to 

be controlled and disseminated by an empowered majority. Prendergast examines civil rights era Supreme 

Court rulings and immigration cases spanning a century of racial injustice to challenge the myth of 

assimilation through literacy. Advancing from Ways with Words, Shirley Brice Heath’s landmark study of 

desegregated communities, Prendergast argues that it is a shared understanding of literacy as white 

property which continues to impact problematic classroom dynamics and education practices. 

To offer a positive model for reimagining literacy instruction that is truly in the service of racial justice, 

Prendergast presents a naturalistic study of an alternative public secondary school. Outlining new 

directions and priorities for inclusive literacy scholarship in America, Literacy and Racial Justice concludes 

that a literate citizen is one who can engage rather than overlook longstanding legacies of racial strife. 



Motorcycling in California's 

Central Valley 

The heart of California's Central Valley--from Lodi, Stockton, and Tracy through Modesto, Oakdale, and 

Turlock--embraced motorcycling from the beginning of the sport and lifestyle. Eleven riders from the region 

are in the American Motorcyclist Association (AMA) Hall of Fame, spanning every decade from the 1900s. 

The popularity of bicycling in the 1890s led to early motorcycle shops, riders, and champion racers 

in the 1900-1910s. 

Area motorcycle club recreational rides and field meets started in 1914. Central Valley police departments 

were among the first to develop motorcycle traffic units in the 1920s, before the California Highway Patrol. 

Early racing venues such as repurposed bicycle velodromes, college stadiums, and horse tracks were 

expanded when the Lodi Cycle Bowl was developed in the 1950s; it gave newcomers such as Modesto's 

Kenny Roberts and Stockton's Alex Jorgensen, Chris Carr, and Fred Merkel--all now AMA Hall of Famers--a 

track at which to compete weekly. 




I think so many folk say something like “It’s too 

complicated” when talking — or not talking -about the 

middle east/war between Israel and Hamas is because in 

this country we’re socialized to see our issues in black and 

white, literally. 

The truth here is far more complicated. 

Black people long ago became the second largest minority 

but you’d never know it because all social advancements, 

battles, laws, school books, and elections are presented as 

binary — Black vs. white. 

Of course there’s a historical uniqueness to being Black in 

America in that we are the only formerly enslaved people 

of all the other non-white folk. 

The only ones needing emancipation, and who are 

descendants of Africans and white enslavers. Caribbean 

folk are included, too, of course. We’ve survived 

enslavement and its horrific aftermath of massacres of 

our cities and neighborhoods, and thousands of lynchings 

and murders by white citizens. 

And all other non-white folk bear the secondary 

consideration in such an unfair way it causes fighting 

between all the groups. 

We know of the devastation of the original peoples on this 

land, the genocide, the ongoing destruction of lands and 

broken treaties. We know the southwest states all the way 

to California were part of Mexico. The inhabitants of those 

lands were suddenly made foreigners on land they’d 

occupied for generations. 

And our education, pop culture, laws, law enforcement, 

and all of it are always informed by that history, first, 

middle, and last. 



We know Chinese citizens helped build infrastructure that 

is still used today. We know construction, farming, and 

other industries populated by non-white folk contribute to 

us being able to maintain a standard of living that wouldn’t 

exist without their incredible contributions. 

struggles because we refuse to join *this nation’s 

struggles. 

The rapid widespread support for Ukraine is the other 

side of the coin to the rapid pro-palestine support. 

Again, Americans are quick to join other nation’s 

struggles because we refuse to join this nation’s 

struggles. 

“We have it great, we’re number one, America is the 

best nation ever -Americans will retort with selfsatisfaction 

and unearned confidence. 

But no matter the complicated facts for hundreds of years, 

America boils everything to Black vs white. So many are 

left out because Americans crave simplicity over the effort 

to understand nuance and complexity. 

We want good to be a white hat and bad to be a black hat. 

Good to be a white man and sometimes a white woman and 

bad to be a Black man or Black woman. 

We want the allies versus. the axis. 

We tell ourselves those things to absolve ourselves and 

to convince ourselves to see past the nuance and 

embrace the simplicity. 

Americans will tell you the entire history of the British 

monarchy, every shakespearean reference to kings and 

politicians of the day, the history of Ireland and North 

Ireland, facts about Mr. Darcy, how their ancestors 

came on the Mayflower, were half Cherokee, or why 

plantation weddings are ok. 

Avengers vs. Thanos. 

Everyone vs the Yankees. 

It is part of the reason bros hate women-directed movies 

that explore emotion, grey areas, resolution without the 

biggest gun (though women movies certain do those 

well/better, too). 

We want a wealthy dummy like Trump speaking dumb 

soundbites over an experienced woman like Hillary who 

provides long thoughtful answers. 

We want a wealthy dummy who spoke in malapropisms 

like George W. Bush versus an intelligent Black man like 

Obama or a smart accomplished woman like Kamala who 

both speak in detail, in nuance, and who can laugh at 

themselves. 

But ask them about Black history, Mexican American 

history, the histories of Puerto Rico, Virgin Islands, 

Hawaii, Black farmers, indigenous treaties, or detailed 

history of American slavery that includes the wealth our 

folk created and be met with blank stares, deflection, 

and an admission that for all the education folk have 

there are grand canyon-sized gaps filled with non-white 

history that happened in this nation. 

We end up with a population quick to join other nation’s 



Ask americans about the mass slaughters, mass rapes, 

baby killing, breeding, and daily violence that done by 

American slave owners and you’ll be quickly shut down, 

your books banned, and even place your jobs in jeopardy. 

You never see slave and plantation owners listed as 

“most prolific killers” but they were. 

They also ate us. 

to derail president Obama with a misguided speech to 

congress at the behest of racist republicans-that fool 

needs to go. 

Former President Obama spoke about the war with 

the nuance, skill, and moral clarity he is known for, 

while expounding on the inability to be dispassionate 

about the carnage we are witnessing. 

Former President Obama on Friday said the current 

conflict in the Middle East is a “moral reckoning for 

all of us.” 

“[A]ll of this is taking place against the backdrop of 

decades of failure to achieve a durable peace for both 

Israelis and Palestinians,” the former president said at the 

Obama Foundation’s “Democracy Forum” Friday. “One 

that is based on genuine security for Israel, a recognition of 

its right to exist, and a peace that is based on an end of the 

occupation and the creation of a viable state and selfdetermination 

for the Palestinian people.” 

“Now, I will admit, it is impossible to be dispassionate in 

the face of this carnage,” Obama continued. “It is hard to 

feel hopeful. The images of families mourning, of bodies 

being pulled from rubble, force a moral reckoning on all of 

us.” 

Look at the range of colors of American Black folk. How 

did we get these shades of black and brown? We didn’t 

come to these shores brown, light brown, or light. And we 

didn’t voluntarily give our our deep beautiful Blackness. 

Our color, like our lives, was stolen. 

Netanyahu needs to go. Hamas needs to go. Palestine 

needs a state. Israel needs to be safe and as our 80+ 

year ally, we need to continue to support them, as we 

do all our allies, like Ukraine, the United Kingdom, 

Japan, S. Korea, and so on. 

We can speak on the Middle East just like we can speak 

on Ukraine. 

Or Congo. 

Or Sudan. 

We can say, as I have said since the day Netanyahu tried 



That’s not complicated. 

America is complicated and we’ve somehow managed to 

exist with longstanding racial, ethnic, religious, and 

ideological differences and disagreements. 

We understand it because as much as we like to be happy 

fools, we have to face ourselves daily. 

It’s not Black and white. 


Vernon L. Andrews 

Policing Black Athletes 

Racial Disconnect in Sports 

O R D E R 

T O D A Y !

BLM-PD 

BLM-PD 

BLM-PD 

BLM-PD. BLM-PD. BLM-PD. BLM-PD 

BLM-PD 

In the not too distant future, the US has been taken over by white nationalists, and 

the institutionalized racism that has underscored the country’s entire history has 

once again been codified. California has seceded from the US, and a band of strong 

women plan to start the next civil war following the death of their friend at the hands 

of the police. This is BLM-PD.

Dear Dean Magazine TOTM 

THREAD OF 

THE MONTH 

TOTM 

Thread written following the latest mass shooting in 

Lewiston, Maine, where 18 were killed and dozens more 

injured. 

Prayer Doesn’t 

Prevent Mass 

Shootings 

We have empirical data that neither thoughts nor prayer 

works to prevent mass shootings in America. Reporters 

should not allow politicians to repeat that useless 

excuse. Listening to Maine officials stand there refusing 

to address the laws they voted for was disgusting. 

Gun nuts, the weasel politicians, gun clubs, NRA, and 

stupid police who beg for help and tell citizens to 

stay indoors while they vote for lax gun laws. 

And fuck the religious liars and grifters who see 

Jesus in guns and god in their ammunition. They sit 

in judgment of the Middle East as if we aren’t held 

hostage by their nationwide militias too. 

Anyway, fuck you and your guns, you coward. 

But it’s the same after every mass shooting. The 

demographic who owns the most weapons by an 

overwhelming margin should be the last people speaking 

on gun laws, who votes against them, and who uses them 

the most. 

They cannot be objective. 

We only live like this because they insist we have to do 

their cowardice and fears are soothed by the war nipplemuzzle 

of their weapons that give them life. Truly, truly, 

fuck every gun worshiping coward and every gun you 

have and will ever get. 


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Sometimes, when you’re at a crossroads, a door will open and what enters will inspire you. Other 

times, what enters will make you gag. These stories by a ride-share short-timer might have the 

same effect on you. A man, recently laid off from his job and intrigued by the people he might 

meet (and the money he might make) decides to drive ride-share while looking for a new 

professional management position. 

Don’t want to drive drunk? Well, then, by all means, plug in your location and get your friendly 

neighborhood ride-share driver to ferry you to your next bar. Need to move but can’t afford 

movers? There’s an App for that! Tired of waiting for tricks on the corner? Wait—I’ve got an idea. . 

. 

The behavior and stories of folks who call on ride-share turned into a unique anthropological 

study for one man who decided to drive ride-share while looking for a new professional 

management position. Recently laid off from his job and intrigued by the people he might meet 

(and the money he might make), the author unwittingly became the anonymous confidant for 

men, women, nonbinary people, and children. Unfortunately for him, he also became the innocent 

target of people who couldn’t hold their liquor, others who couldn’t hold their temper, and at 

least one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. 

Little did they know they were in the Prius of a writer, who would be able to look in the rear view 

and tell their stories. 

This collection of anecdotes is non-judgmental, full of irony and dry humor, and may help 

someone else decide: Is driving ride-share for you? 


F E A T U R E D S P O T L I G H T 

MOM FINALLY 

GETS TO COOK 

THANKSGIVING 

DINNER 


Author’s note: I am re-running my Thanksgiving story about 

the time when my mom cooked a full meal for the family, 

forgoing our traditional visit to our grandparents. In 

thinking about her meal that day I mostly recall the delicious 

basics — turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, 

potato salad, green beans, etc. 

New and or experimental dishes are good… for a family meal 

in April, but not Thanksgiving, when the tried and true are 

needed to settle our stomachs and warm our memories of 

family, love, sharing, and giving thanks. 

I am thankful for my mom all those years ago ending a 

tradition of visiting grandparents and continuing tradition 

by preparing exactly what we were expecting. 

This year was going to be different. 

It was the 1970’s and Mom wanted to do her own thing 

and stay home. She said the in-laws and others were 

invited, of course, and that this was a chance for them to 

be the guests and to relax while Mom did all the 

preparation, cooking, and clean-up. She was excited, she 

said, because she was a good cook and knew how to 

prepare all the dishes — some with her own twist — but 

most others in the traditional sense. 

After a few weeks of back-and-forth Mom’s idea was 

shot down and plans were being made to do what we 

always did and go to her in-laws/our grandparent’s 

home as we always did. 

Thanksgiving Dinner 

Mom decided that she would prepare the entire 

Thanksgiving meal herself, stay home with her own family, 

and relax on the holiday for once. 

But a day or so later Mom came home from grocery 

shopping and as I started helping her put food away she 

calmly said, “We are staying home for Thanksgiving; I’m 

cooking the Thanksgiving meal.” 

Up to this point Mom and our family visited her in-laws for 

Thanksgiving every year. And it wasn’t just Thanksgiving. It 

was Christmas, Easter, the 4th of July, birthdays, and 

various church related anniversaries and special occasions. 



“You are?!? Do you know how to cook all those things? 

And the desserts? The turkey? Dressing? Potato salad!?” 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, and of course. I make the potato salad 

anyway, she said, and I make all the other dishes all year 

long. Child, please,” she ended with laugh. 

There were more disagreements, but Mom had made up 

her mind and that was that. I was excited and didn’t 

hesitate to say so, combatting some of the comments 

made around the house by my brothers that they wanted 

to still go to our grandparents and that they were gonna 

miss all the good stuff. 

Undeterred by the comments, Mom just kept planning 

and getting ready. She even said she’d invited some of 

her family and that she’d hoped they’d show up. 

It was now Thanksgiving and Mom was up early and 

cooking all day, while we played outside building up our 

appetites and eagerly waiting for dinner. By now there 

was no more talk of missing out on our grandparent’s 

meals because the house smelled like Thanksgiving. 

Mom was happy that her favorite uncle and his wife 

came over. Mom loved him most of all her uncles and he 

loved her. They came dressed up — suit and hat for him, 

beautiful dress, and hat for her. They stayed a while but 

said they couldn’t stay long, or even eat much, since 

they had to go home for their own Thanksgiving dinner 

for their kids, Mom’s cousins. 

Mom was happy they’d come, and she and her uncle and 

aunt had a good long hug before they left. 

It was late afternoon when Mom came outside to tell us 

dinner was ready. 

Finally. 

All the friends dispersed, and my brothers and I went 

inside. 

The day before Thanksgiving Mom was busy in the 

kitchen chopping vegetables and working hard. She had 

that look of determination that looked good on her. She 

was beautiful, as always, and her body was in a state of 

constant movement that was hard to look away from. I 

never looked away from her anyway when we were 

together, but this seemed different somehow. 

The meal was laid out on the table. All the dishes here 

there: Beautiful golden-brown turkey, dressing that 

smelled delightful, greens that were steaming hot, 

mashed potatoes that were creamy and just lumpy 

enough, green beans, that I would ignore, dirty rice that 

would taste as good as grandma’s, her famous potato 

salad, and of course macaroni and cheese that had the 

crust that was required. 

She made small talk and asked me to help do small tasks 

but mostly she asked me to go outside and play. I didn’t 

want to, though, preferring to just sit and watch her. 

Most of the time she’d let me but not this time. She 

kicked me out and she continued preparing through the 

night and after our family went to bed. 



There was sweet potato pie, and a bunt cake of some 

sort. 

And more. 

But mostly it was a golden-brown turkey that looked and 

smelled wonderful that set the whole table off and drew 

the most attention. 

Mom asked us to clean our hands up and we did and once 

we got around the table, Mom said a very brief blessing 

and we started eating. 

It was a beautiful meal. Every part of it was delicious. I 

asked Mom if she could cook like this every day, and she 

just laughed and smiled. 

Mom was having a moment, and her smile was bright and 

magnetic. She didn’t gloat though, preferring to let her 

three hungry boys who were devouring every morsel tell 

the story for her. 

There were few leftovers that Thanksgiving. 

In the years that followed we’d spend more 

Thanksgivings at our grandparents, and they were 

wonderful, though none matched that one perfect 

Thanksgiving when Mom prepared every dish by herself. 


Her Legend Lives In You: 

The Untold Creation Story Honoring The 

Goddess And Our Daughters. 


Available on

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NOW 

A cup of coffee or tea paired with interesting company is an unbeatable combination. We learn 

and share so much through this simple social ritual. Nuanced origin stories. Brow-raising 

secrets. Good news. Bad news. Hopes and dreams, insecurities and fears. Sip by sip, we do 

business, catch up, plan our lives, and discover common ground. 

To gain a better understanding of his friends, Myron went on a mission to try their favorite 

drinks. He was struck by the complex flavors and simple pleasures that characterized their 

personalities. Sweet. Spicy. Bold. Bewitching. Optimistic. Ostentatious. Practical. Perfectionist. 

In Coffee, Grounded, Myron reviews these drinks and brews up a perfect blend of culture and 

caffeine. He examines the history of various ingredients and coffee-growing regions, painting a 

vivid picture of faraway lands and hometown haunts. 

Pour yourself a cup and curl up with this tasty collection of stories steeped in friendship and fun. 

Order & Indulge! 


MYRON'S 

HIT OR MISS 

MISS 

Major media using polls paid for by Trump and republicans to 

“predict” democrats would not do well during elections across the 

nation. Of course, they were wrong as democrats took major 

victories in Virginia, Kentucky, Philadelphia, Wisconsin, and Ohio, 

as voters continue to reject republican extremism regarding 

abortion rights. 

DEAR DEAN MAGAZINE | November 22, 2023 | p.40 

list

HIT 

Moms for Liberty candidates got destroyed in 

elections in multiple states as voters continue to 

reject the racist group’s attempt to ban books by 

Black and other marginalized authors. who hate 

him allowed them to fire him with only one other 

republican calling for his ouster. 

MISS 

New Speaker of the House and failed JC Penny 

mannequin, Mike Johnson is looking worse by the 

minute as his crackpot religious views continue to 

be exposed – he and his son monitoring one 

another’s porn viewing. Yikes. 

HIT 

MISS 

Moms for Liberty had to apologize when their 

multiple branches and leaders were shown working 

with the Proud Boys and throwing up white 

supremacy signs. The group tried to disassociate 

themselves from the January 6th white supremacists’ 

traitors, but it is far too late and they are too 

entangled to deny their affiliation. 

HIT 

Seeing Ivanka testifying and throwing her husband 

under the bus while trying to save herself and her 

first and only love, her creepy father. Then seeing 

Donald Jr. looking weird and as creepy as his 

convicted rapist father was satisfying. 

Britney Spears memoir sold 1.4m copies in 

the first week as fans gobbled up the former 

popstar’s stories about her famously 

controversial and successful career. 

MISS 

Pro-Palestine protesters murdering a senior 

Jewish man who was counter-protesting in 

southern California showed again that 

violence not only isn’t the way but is always 

harmful to one’s cause in a democracy. 

HIT 

NFL Football, NBA Basketball, College 

Football, Men’s and Women’s College 

Basketball, and WNBA basketball are in full 

swing right now and giving sports fans 

nonstop viewing on network, cable, and more 

than ever, streaming services. 

HIT 

Seeing the orange liar forced to testify in New 

York. He tried to lie, ramble, and obfuscate – 

and the judge gave him too much leniency, but 

overall, Trump looks and sounds pathetic and 

defeated and D.A. Fannie Willis looks like the 

winner she is. 

MISS 

All the polls that predicted democrats would 

lose in elections across the states…and all the 

polls were wrong. Of course. 


MOVIE 

REVIEWS 


The Marvels – Captain Marvel, Ms. Marvel, and Monica Rambeau 

One of the best Marvel movies of the past few years. The women of the Marvels deliver fun, humor, 

excitement, and plenty of action in under two hours. The story pushes the MCU forward in surprising 

and delightful ways and opens up another universe that fans have long waited for. Enjoy this movie for 

what it is, not what it isn’t. It is written, directed, and stars women as heroes and villains. A first for 

Marvel and a welcome entry into the ever-expanding universe. 


MOVIE 

REVIEWS 

Insidious – The Red Door - Netflix 

The newest movie in the Insidious horror series 

goes to college but so do the demons. And this time 

there’s attempts to recovered purposely buried 

memories and uncover what, exactly, is behind the 

red door and why. Of course, opening that door 

will bring more horror than our protagonists can 

imagine. 

Five Nights at Freddy’s - Peacock 

You just have to go along with the movie that is 

based on a popular videogame about kids and 

adults trying to survive maniacal killer 

animatronics who are definitely not Chuck E. 

Cheese friendly. Teens and older grown-up teens 

will love the absurd, violent, funny, silly movie. 

Hallmark’s Fall Into Love movies 

If you want G-rated meet cute stories where the 

goal is to quit corporate jobs, move out of big 

cities, reclaim your high school first love who is 

now a contractor who can fix up the café you 

inherited from your dead uncle, these movies 

are for you. 


MY FAVORITE THINGS 

streaming right 

now...

S T R E A M I N G N O W 

Hulu – The Bear Seasons 1 & 2 

The beloved series lives up to the hype with 

its take a on small family restaurant that’s past 

its prime when the younger brother inherits 

the flailing restaurant after a family suicide 

forces him to give up his successful career as 

an award-winning chef. All does not go well. 

The characters are well written, the staff is 

appropriately diverse, and the innerworkings 

of a frenetic kitchen being forced into 

modernity will have you binging the popular 

series. 

PRIME – Invincible 

Season 2 is out, and the series is as violent, 

mellow, complex, silly, and touching in different 

parts. We follow Mark after following the 

devastating news and beating he got from his 

father, Omniman, at the conclusion of season 1. 

The other heroes, villains, and government 

agencies are all scrambling to fill the void of the 

missing Omniman while trying to figure out 

whether Invincible can be trusted. 

Netflix: The Killer 

An intense “ride along” with a hired professional 

killer as he stalks his target and then finds 

himself a target of unhappy buyers. The movie 

is shot through the point of view of the killer so 

viewers feel his pace, calmness, panic, anger, 

and fear. Michael Fassbender is really good in 

the role and you will feel what he feels as he 

tries to sort out what is happening, why, and 

how he can resolve the mystery in the ways he 

knows best. 

Netflix: Selling Sunset – Seasons 1-7 

Season 7 just released all episodes and the 

ladies of the Oppenheim group bring all the 

fashion, make-up, selling skills, and petty 

drama fans love. But more than anything, the 

series against showcases some of the most 

expensive southern California real estate that 

itself is undergoing changes due to new taxes 

imposed on homes sold for $10m plus. The 

season is full of expensive homes, over the top 

clothing, and plenty of in-fighting, backbiting, 

betrayals, and a few surprises that test the 

friendships and loyalty of the women. 


F E A T U R E D 

S P O T L I G H T 

The Little Red Dinosaur 

by Katya Juliet Lerner 

One of 25 tiny dinosaurs laying around the house which my 

son wouldn't remember if it weren't for this morning. One of 

25 tiny dinosaurs that drive me nuts, that I step on, trip over 

and find in places they don't belong. 

Funny how things are just “things” until you give them 

meaning. Sometimes on purpose, other times accidentally 

through experiences over time. 

This morning I offered my son this tiny red dinosaur to keep 

in his pocket while at school since he was feeling sad and 

didn't want to leave me. Repeatedly begging to stay home, 

saying he was sick or had to go back to sleep or needed 

anything his little 2.5 year old mind could think of. I told him 

he could hold this little dinosaur and know it was a tiny piece 

of home and that mama would come back to pick him up 

after lunch. 

It's his 4th day of preschool and it's harder than I thought it 

would be. They say everyone cries in the beginning but what 

you see is just your child trying to adjust among others who 

already have. Trying to be brave enough until they just can't 

hold it in anymore and the worry or discomfort makes it way 

out of their bodies and up to their little face and the tears 

just stream down. 

I offered the tiny red dinosaur this morning but he easily 

dismissed it and just kept talking about other things he 

needed to do or why he couldn't go. So, I figured my tiny 

dinosaur strategy was silly and he wasn't into it. I left it 

there, laying on the table next to his 1/2 eaten breakfast. 

can go. My son starts screaming again as I let go of his 

hand and leave him on the teachers lap. 

But as I let go, and his cries get louder, he starts crying out 

"Mommy I need my tiny red dinosaur! Please! I need my 

tiny red dinosaur!" 

My heart sinks. I can see it at home on the table. I should 

have put it in my purse or pocket. I should have brought it 

after I said that to him this morning. I can't believe in this 

moment as a mother, I don't have that stupid dinosaur, 

the red one that I accidentally stepped on barefoot this 

morning at the bottom of the stairs and wanted to throw 

away. 

I come home to a quiet house, perfect for getting things 

done and cleaning up while only caring for my 4 month old 

daughter since my son is now reluctantly at school. 

Instead, I am sitting here looking at this tiny red dinosaur 

next to my sons 1/2 eaten breakfast, crying, feeling all the 

mixed emotions you feel as a parent of growing children. 

Just when I think one stage is hard and another will be 

easier...ouch. My heart hurts. 

I know my son won't remember any of this in the long run, 

and that he will probably stop crying and end up having a 

a decent 4th day of preschool. But boy does it hurt when 

little things grow a special meaning and you can't take it 

back. My heart is magnified as a mother and it makes life 

both more beautiful and tragic at precisely the same time. 

In the classroom it's a full on emotional break down. He is 

reaching for me and crying out "mommy I need you! Come 

back! Don't leave me!" I stay for a few minutes trying to get 

his little worked-up emotional body to take some deep 

breaths and calm down. Hug him. Try to make him laugh a 

few times, and get a few smirks. He drinks some water. He 

clings to me desperately. The teacher comes to help me so I 

Katya Juliet Lerner - Bio & Website: 

https://katya-juliet-lerner.netlify.app/ 


Robin Martin, Editorial 

The Joyful Warrior 

Podcast Network 

Music App 

Mark Lerner Astrology 

Katya Juliet's Jewel Box 

Great Start Initiative

Dear Dean Magazine: Issue 23 - November 2023

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