The Brooklyn Dad Show

New story idea I came up with this week.

Setup:

Malcolm Bedford is a 45 year old African American dad and NYC native.  His life has taken him in different directions in parallel universes.  In one universe he’s the CTO of silicon valley AI company that’s just opened the most technology advanced AI and Quantum Computing data center on the planet. In one universe he’s a community organizer working with climate CBOs in Atlanta - uplifting People of color in the fight for climate change. In another universe he’s an actor and playwright writing about the black experience in America - touches of August Wilson - successful but still struggling financially as an artist. In all of them he has a 15 year old daughter that’s living very different lives.  Together across time and space they must close the fabric of time ripped by AI / Quantum computing datacenter and set the universe right. All along getting an understanding of what it means to be a dad and daughter getting to know the individuals they’ve become.

Blurb

Fifteen-year-old Lena Bedford thought having a dad who forgets where he left his keys was complicated — until the universe tore open.

When an experimental AI-driven quantum data center malfunctions, reality fractures, colliding the lives of three versions of her father:

Malcolm the Silicon Valley tech visionary, Malcolm the Atlanta climate organizer, and Malcolm the New York playwright still chasing the dream.

Suddenly Lena finds herself pulled through their worlds — each shaped by different choices, different struggles, and different versions of her. As time unravels, father and daughter must navigate impossible versions of their lives, face who they've become, and heal the rift that threatens to collapse every universe they touch.

But restoring reality won’t be the hardest part. Learning to see each other — truly see each other — across infinite timelines might be the one challenge they can't code, protest, or perform their way out of.

Asked AI to help map out the fall of the planet - based on real events. Kind of spooky...

UPDATED GLOBAL TIMELINE — “THE YEARS WE UNMADE OURSELVES”

Incorporating real-world deterioration of U.S. public health leadership.

YEAR 0 — 2026: The Unraveling Begins

January

Robert F. Kennedy Jr., newly appointed to lead the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, begins restructuring federal health agencies. The CDC’s vaccine division is “decentralized” into state-based authorities.

February–June

CDC scientists resign in protest.

Vaccine recommendations are rebranded as “local choice pathways.”

Major right-wing media celebrates “the end of Big Pharma tyranny.”

Vaccine uptake for childhood immunizations drops 7% nationwide—a historic single-year decline.

Internationally, anti-vaccine groups use U.S. messaging as proof that vaccination was always suspect.

September

RFK Jr. announces the U.S. will “exit the mass-vaccination paradigm,” redirecting billions in funding toward “immune resilience initiatives,” including supplements, homeopathy, and untested “natural immunity optimization programs.”

WHO publicly warns the U.S. is destabilizing global immunization efforts. America shrugs.

YEAR 1 — 2027: The Year of Cracks

January–March: The Singapore Cluster

Researchers identify COV-29 Theta, a new SARS-CoV-2 lineage with severe neurological impacts and a 6–10% case fatality rate. U.S. leadership dismisses early reports as “fearmongering.”

April: The Anti-Vaccine Spiral

Online conspiracies explode:

“Theta is caused by past vaccines.”

“Vaccinated people are super-spreaders.”

“This is a WHO takeover attempt.”

Parents pull children out of routine immunization programs globally.

June: Delta-Measles Event

A measles outbreak tears through unvaccinated communities across Texas, Arizona, and Germany. Polio wastewater signals appear in London and New York.

Public health scientists beg for federal coordination. RFK Jr. states: “We cannot force medical decisions on free people.”

Funding is cut again.

August–September: The Mumbai Flashpoint

Theta sweeps across India’s urban centers. Footage leaks of patients collapsing in the street. The world panics.

The U.S. downplays it.

October: New York Ignition

Theta appears in Queens, then Brooklyn. Hospitals fill in 72 hours. The death rate mirrors Mumbai.

The CDC posts: “We advise individuals to follow their preferred health pathways.”

The world realizes the United States—the former leader in global health—is gone.

YEAR 2 — 2028: The Collapse

January–March: Cascading Plagues

With vaccination infrastructure destroyed:

Measles rips through refugee corridors in Europe

Polio paralyzes thousands in Africa and the American Midwest

Whooping cough kills infants in Brazil and the Balkans

A new avian flu strain devastates poultry, causing mass starvation

Theta mutates into Theta-Prime, causing memory disruption, paralysis, and personality fractures.

Economies fall. Global trade ceases. Governments dissolve under the weight of simultaneous epidemiological catastrophes.

The U.S. fractures into regional survival zones. Cities hollow out.

Except one.

Brooklyn resists.

APRIL 2028 — The Broadcast Age Begins

With the global internet gone and satellites decaying, a new network emerges:

analog radio.

In the ruins of New York, one voice becomes the spine of the survivor world:

Byron Tate.

BYRON TATE’S FIRST MONOLOGUE

(Broadcast on 94.7 FM — a salvaged frequency once used for emergency alerts.)

Static. A crackle. Then a warm, steady breath.

“If you can hear me, that means the world hasn’t ended—not all the way.”

“My name is Byron Tate. I used to be a computer programmer. Wrote code in a cubicle. Debugged other people’s mistakes. Missed dinner a lot. Thought I had time. Thought we all did.”

“When the sickness came—Theta, Theta-Prime, whatever name they’re giving it—I kept waiting for folks in charge to fix it. The doctors. The CDC. The agencies we grew up trusting. But trust is a fragile thing, and somewhere between the shouting matches and the conspiracy threads… we lost it.”

“Some of you listening lost people you love because somebody told you vaccines were poison. Some of you lost people because the people in charge decided saving lives was optional.”

“I can’t fix that. I’m not a doctor. I’m just a man with a soldering iron, a pile of scavenged radios, and a whole lot of grief.”

“But I can give you a signal. A voice in the dark.”

“You’re not alone out there. Brooklyn’s still standing—or stumbling forward. We’ve got gardens on rooftops. Solar on brownstones. Kids who can still laugh. And a few scientists, including one very stubborn young woman I raised, who are working on something that looks a lot like hope.”

“If you’re scared, stay with me. If you’re hurt, call in—we have medics. If you’re infected… we don’t turn our backs. Not anymore.”

“This is Byron Tate, transmitting from somewhere in the broken city.”

“And as long as this broadcast stays alive… so do we.”

Fade out. Soft hum of equipment. A faint music loop, handmade and hopeful.

Bizarro map also that chatgpt popped out - (Staten Island as the Empty Zone seems on point)

Byron Tate is a 50 year old African American computer programmer.  He always joked that in the zombie apocalypse he could count on his engineering degree to keep him alive and make him valuable to a group of survivors. Little did he know how right he would be.  The US government abandoned science in the mid 2020s and vaccine use across the world plummeted.  A COVID virus wiped out 75% of the population over 2 years.  Other long banished diseases took hold on the remaining population.  It’s a zombie apocalypse that could have been prevented.  Byron is part of a group of uninfected people in an undisclosed location in the city limits of what was once New York City.  He is using his skills to rebuild technology to keep his group together. He has also started a pirate radio broadcast that helps local groups coordinate surviving and taking care of the infected that they can still save.  His daughter Jessica, 23, half African American and half Ukrainian, had been in medical school when things went very south.  She is using her skills to help the infected and look for new vaccines and cures for the diseases ravaging the planet.

Little do they know that Byon’s broadcasts are being re-broadcast worldwide and he’s a voice of hope around the planet AND that the vaccine Jessica is working on just could be the answer to bring humanity back to the planet.

Please act as an expert in Science fiction in particular works of Octavia Butler and NK Jemisin. Please write an engaging book blurb for this new story.  Please also give me 10 possible titles for this story. Please also give me 3 image prompts for this story

BOOK BLURB (Afrofuturist, Butler- and Jemisin-inspired) In the aftermath of a preventable apocalypse, Byron Tate—once just a brilliant, wise-cracking programmer from Brooklyn—has become something far more dangerous: a beacon of possibility. When a vaccine-resistant COVID mutation collapses governments and resurrects long-defeated diseases, most of humanity falls. Yet Byron survives, tucked within a hidden pocket of New York City where pockets of the uninfected cling to life.

Armed with scavenged circuits and stubborn hope, Byron builds a pirate radio network that stitches survivors together across the ruins. His voice becomes legend—comforting, defiant, and unknowingly global.

But the true power lies with his daughter Jessica, a 23-year-old former medical student who carries both her parents’ worlds inside her: engineering precision, scientific hunger, and an unbreakable devotion to protecting life. As she works to synthesize a vaccine no government ever invested in, whispers spread of “the Tate Cure”—a miracle born in the shadows.

When a new strain of the infected begins retaining memory, language, and grief, Byron and Jessica must face a choice that would terrify any society, let alone a shattered one: save only the uninfected… or save everyone, even those once written off as monsters.

Across the world, communities rise, tuning into Byron’s signal. And as Jessica edges closer to a cure that could rewrite humanity’s fate, father and daughter discover something more shocking than the fall of civilization—neither of them has been fighting alone.

A story of survival, responsibility, and the dangerous brilliance of ordinary people, this is a tale of the future humanity deserved—and the one still possible.

10 Possible Titles

The Signal at the End of the World

Tate’s Frequency

Dead Air, Living Hope

The Broadcast Cure

City of the Uninfected

The Resonance

Byron Tate Is Still Alive

The Vaccine Makers

Static of the Saved

Requiem for the Living

3 Image Prompts

1. A middle-aged Black man in scavenged tech gear, sitting in a dim underground bunker filled with glowing screens, wires, and repurposed radio equipment; outside the cracked doorway, a ruined New York skyline shrouded in fog; Afrofuturist lighting, neon accents, post-collapse atmosphere.

2. A young woman of mixed African American and Ukrainian descent working in a makeshift lab inside an abandoned subway station; vials glowing with bioluminescent blues and greens; graffiti-covered walls; diagrams pinned everywhere; she stands determined, a symbol of scientific hope in a broken world.

3. An aerial shot of a devastated New York City at dusk with faint signals of life—rooftop gardens, solar panels, small fires, survivors on balconies tuning radios; in the sky, translucent ghost-like silhouettes of infected people drifting like memories; Afrofuturist, surreal, emotionally charged.

Ok I asked AI for one more thing. The answer is scary because it literally is our world.. but hey.

The US CDC is actually stepping away from Vaccines. Can you give a hypothetical scenario on the impact on global anti-vaccine sentiment and the fallout of what a 10x deadly covid disease might do to the earth. First give me a scientific explanation of what would happen then give a sci-fi story synopsis of the two years of the downfall

Below is a two-part answer—first a grounded, scientific hypothetical, then a science-fiction narrative treatment that mirrors the world of your Byron & Jessica story.

PART I — Scientific Explanation (Hypothetical Scenario)

What would happen if the U.S. CDC stepped away from vaccines while a COVID strain with 10x lethality emerged?

1. Collapse of Public Health Leadership

The U.S. CDC is one of the world’s primary reference points for infectious disease policy. If it publicly de-prioritized or distanced itself from vaccines, several cascading effects would likely occur:

Global trust collapse in vaccination programs, especially in low-income and middle-income countries that rely on CDC guidance.

Acceleration of anti-vaccine sentiment, as conspiracy networks would see this as “proof” that vaccines are dangerous.

Funding gaps across WHO-aligned programs as U.S. funding shifts away from immunization research, surveillance, and distribution.

Fragmented health response, with states, countries, and health NGOs trying to fill the void without the same resources or authority.

2. Epidemiological Consequences

If a COVID variant emerged with 10x the fatality rate—for example, moving from ~1% case fatality to ~10%—the global impact would be catastrophic.

Key effects:

Transmission remains high, because SARS-CoV-2’s contagiousness is tied to upper-respiratory replication. Higher lethality does not necessarily reduce spread.

Exponential mortality:

If 50% of the population becomes infected (a conservative assumption), then a global 10% fatality rate means hundreds of millions of deaths.

Healthcare system overload within weeks, not months.

Ventilators, antivirals, beds, oxygen all become impossible bottlenecks.

Non-COVID patients die at high rates from simple conditions due to lack of care.

Re-emergence of suppressed diseases (measles, polio, pertussis) because vaccination rates plummet.

3. Social and Economic Breakdown

Within 6–12 months:

Supply chains collapse, including pharmaceuticals, food distribution, and global shipping.

Mass migration events, as people flee dense cities, spreading disease further.

Political destabilization, as governments struggle to maintain control or legitimacy.

Rise of local governance, mutual-aid groups, militias, or micro-polities.

Global recession → depression, with long-term economic scarring.

4. Biological Feedback Loop

Without vaccination and with limited medical care:

Viruses mutate faster in large infected populations.

New variants emerge that:

evade immunity,

increase transmissibility,

increase lethality, or

develop neurological or immunological complications.

This creates a doom feedback loop: less vaccination → more spread → more mutations → more severe variants → even less trust → chaos.

The species survives—but as a wounded, contracting population.

PART II — SCI-FI SYNOPSIS (Two-Year Downfall Scenario)

A near-future timeline of humanity’s collapse through the lens of global anti-vaccine fallout.

Year 1 — “The Confidence Collapse”

When the CDC announces it is “stepping away” from vaccination programs to focus on “alternative public health strategies,” the world reacts with confusion, then panic.

By month three:

Anti-vaccine movements surge globally.

Countries aligned with U.S. policy cut vaccine budgets.

Childhood vaccination rates drop below herd-immunity thresholds for measles, mumps, and polio.

Then the virus comes.

Scientists in Singapore detect a SARS-CoV-2 strain with a 10-fold higher lethality and neurological complications that mimic encephalitis. They call it COV-29 Theta.

Theta spreads silently for weeks before exploding through Mumbai, São Paulo, Lagos, and New York. Hospitals collapse not from the number of patients, but from the speed of deterioration—healthy adults go from fever to respiratory failure in 36 hours.

Riots erupt as anti-vaccine influencers insist the variant is government-engineered while the pro-science population demands emergency vaccination campaigns that no longer exist.

Global governance fractures.

Year 1, Month 10 — “The Shadow Diseases”

With vaccination rates globally plummeting:

Measles spreads through refugee camps across Europe.

Polio returns to the U.S. Midwest.

Whooping cough kills thousands of infants in Southeast Asia.

Theta mutates into Theta-Prime, which causes partial paralysis in survivors.

Cities become zones of quarantine, abandonment, or informal governance. Cargo stops moving. Economies freeze.

Satellite imagery shows Earth’s lights dimming.

Year 2 — “The Two Survivals”

Humanity splits into two categories:

The Uninfected, hiding in small autonomous groups with their own food, water, and energy. The Theta-Touched, infected but not dead—neurologically altered, wandering in packs, some lucid, some driven by primal instincts.

Urban centers are hollowed out.

But hope emerges.

Across the ruins, a pirate radio signal begins transmitting—first in English, then spreading through mirrored, rebroadcast signals:

“You are not alone. There are still tools. There are still cures. There is still us.”

Survivors tune in to a calm voice—engineer Byron Tate—whose DIY communications network stitches together pockets of humanity like a distributed nervous system.

Unknown to him, his daughter Jessica, hiding in a makeshift lab beneath a gutted subway station, discovers antibodies in Theta survivors that could form the basis of a broad-spectrum vaccine.

She nicknames it “The Lazarus Sequence.”

As the disease enters its second winter, her discovery spreads through the same radio network her father unknowingly created as the backbone of global communication.

The world begins to reorganize—not under governments, but under the faint, stubborn glow of communities choosing to fight for one another.

And that is where the larger story begins.

Came up with new concept. Here's the paragraph I wrote about it.

Audre Lorde wrote - “Revolution is not a one-time event. It is becoming always vigilant for the smallest opportunity to make a genuine change in established, outgrown responses"  

It’s 2027 and Ally Martin is a 20 year old black woman from Fort Greene Brooklyn. She has the ability to see and travel to different versions of the future. She is a Moment Traveler, a powerful set of humans with this power.  It manifests most strongly in young adults aged 15 - 25 - in the years when their minds are fully forming.  Right now she has her powers are focused to have her see the next 5 years in the future right into the heart of the US revolution from independence from the authoritarian rule they are currently under.  Through her we see the many pieces of the revolution its many versions of success and failure - all the potential pieces that can come together or not come together in a revolution.  Revolution is not a one-time event - it’s take many different individuals in a community standing up for humanity.  We follow Ally as she learns what makes a revolution and what role she may play in the upcoming revolution.

Then I decided it needed to be a global story and created some more characters. Out of that here's the best I got out of AI for a blurb:

By 2027, the world has forgotten how to imagine its own freedom. Corporations rule like nations, data is currency, and borders are drawn not on maps but in algorithms. Yet something ancient is returning — the power to see the future not as it will be, but as it could become.

They call themselves Moment Travelers — young people across the globe born with the ability to glimpse and step through possible futures.

In Brooklyn, 20-year-old Ally Martin stands on a rooftop watching timelines unfurl like auroras above the city. In Amman, Yusuf Al-Khalil, a 25-year-old Palestinian refugee, feels every choice is to rewrite the code of tomorrow. In Kyiv, Khrystyna Kovalenko, only 15, sketches what she sees — cities reborn, cities in ruin — in notebooks she hides beneath her bed. In Khartoum, Amal Idris plays drums whose rhythms synchronize resistance movements across continents. And in France,Hong Konger exile Khai Wen, 16, he feels a time shift every time he touches a screen

Each is a pulse in the same global heartbeat — a revolution unfolding not in one place, but in every possible version of Earth. As their visions begin to converge, they realize the truth: The future isn’t a single timeline.

It’s a battlefield.

And the war for it has already begun.

They will discover how revolutions become reality together

Then I shaped it into Young Adult concept to see what my daughter thought.

Then I shaped it into Young Adult concept to see what my daughter thought.

Chronology of Revolution’s Tomorrow

They thought the future was lost — until they saw it together.

The world is breaking — but five young people might be able to fix it.

All across the planet, teens are waking up with a strange new power: they can see fragments of the future. Not just one future — every future. They are Moment Travelers, and when they connect, they can change the course of history.

Ally, a 19-year-old from Brooklyn - She sees protests rising in the streets. Yusuf, a 20 year old Palestinian coder in Jordan - He sees the digital sparks of a global rebellion. Khrystyna, a 15-year-old artist in Kyiv - She draws what she dreams — and it comes true. Amal, an 18-year-old musician in Sudan - She  turns rhythm into revolution. Khai, a 16-year-old Hong Konger in exile in France - He feels a time shift every time he touches a screen.

When their visions start to overlap, they realize they’re seeing pieces of the same event — the revolution that could end corporate empires and oppressive governments forever. But if they can see the future, so can those who want to stop it.

Now, connected across continents and timelines, five teens must learn to trust each other, find the right version of tomorrow, and decide: Which future are they willing to fight for?

I just got the seal of approval from my most important reader, my daughter, so without further ado I present my first complete short story, The Wizard of Flatbush Avenue.

Chapter 1

I looked out at the crowd at the open mic and took a deep breath. It was a friendly neighborhood crowd. I’d grown up here and my parents might walk in any moment to support me too so there really wasn’t anything to worry about but the nerves were there and really there’s always some amount of nerves when you share yourself with others. Always some nerves when you use your words in hope to move people to action. But really is this what middle age dads do on a school night?  The new school year starts tomorrow! Jackie will be starting school tomorrow - her last year of middle school. High school applications and acceptances on the horizon.  I didn’t have her tonight so I wasn’t being irresponsible. Although I kind of wished she was here- but I wasn’t really sure she was ready to see me perform. Teenagers are complex little humans and I wasn’t sure she would like me sharing about my life. I never shared anything about her when I performed but it was still sharing a bit of myself. Which always felt risky.. But necessary. We can’t move forward without sharing, connecting, engendering empathy, and this was a way I knew I could do it. Sharing my stories and poems. I always wondered - was the risk worth it. Was I revealing too much? There were some things I couldn’t share because it would endanger everyone there.  I was the most powerful wizard on Flatbush Avenue and no one could know the real power this bespectacled short black man could unleash with his words. 

The last months in the wizard world had been difficult. The US had elected a white supremacist president two years ago and if that wasn’t bad enough for a dad with a mixed race daughter, some of the darkest magically endowed individuals in the US were deeply involved and had just pulled off a treaty with some of the nastiest magicians on the planet. I wasn’t surprised but a lot of magical ones had been surprised by the sudden turn of events. Man -  If anyone knew about the duels that I’d been involved in in the last week they would be really worried. Most of all I was glad Jackie didn’t know how bad it was getting but I knew I couldn’t protect her indefinitely. She actually had to know more about what was going on especially before she went to high school.

How do you prepare a child for high school! I mean what high school is she even going to want to go to.  I know teenagers need to have independence and decide their own path - I was the same way. I remember being an 8th grader and putting my foot down about the high school I wanted to go to. I knew where I needed to go. I was in a small school and my parents thought I was going to be safer to be a young black wizard in a small school with non-magical kids but I knew I could strive in a larger school and succeed and not reveal my magical skills. 

I was right, but now that I’m in the same place as my parents, it’s hard to trust that everything will go smoothly. I mean Jackie on all accounts is more mature than I am - but you put maturity and magic together in a world that doesn’t understand magic… you never know what you’re going to get.

I remember learning about the gifts I’ve been given. The talk. No wizard ever forgets - and the truth is it never is one talk. It’s not really a talk at all. It’s continual communication that people see you differently in a fundamental way - that couldn’t be possibly communicated in a conversation. It’s laughable. It changes you forever to know what your words have the power to do.  I know the talk has been given to countless young wizards but still I think about the impact it had on me. I wonder if I was too young to know the truth. We told Jackie later and I wonder if it was too late.  What’s too young to know about the power your words can have? 

I wasn’t going to use any of this power tonight.  Tonight was going to be poetry - my words to move people without magic. I scan the crowd to make sure there’s nobody magical in the crowd.  I know the chances are slim but you can’t be too careful.  

I remember the first spell my dad taught me. It was a book based spell. It’s still my favorite spell and I don’t mean to brag but I may be the best at it now on the planet. Sorry dad I’ve surpassed you. It takes a book and forces someone to feel all the emotions experienced by the characters in the book.  It has to be used carefully because the wrong book as you can imagine can make someone go crazy.  The words on a page of an evil antagonist can drive someone to evil and the combined words of protagonists and antagonists from a good book might also drive someone crazy.  A good book is filled with more power than most people know.

You’re probably wondering what books I’ve used.. Family secret. 

Family secret I think my daughter needs to know but I’m not sure if it’s time. 

Okay I’ll tell you one book I always keep with me. I know you wanted to know. Without the words you can’t use the magic but you should probably read it.  Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler.  I had this white supremacist wizard foaming at the mouth unable to function last weekend with that spell. It was amazing.  Good times.

You can’t tell anyone about the duel but please read the book. 

Oh they’re calling me on stage. I think this is a good poem. I hope this goes well. I hope I’m able to reach people.

Here goes everything.

“Hi everyone. I hope everyone is doing well tonight. It’s nice to see a lovely Brooklyn neighborhood crowd like this.  My name is Fredrick Thomas James and I grew up just a few blocks away just off of Flatbush.  Tonight I’m going to share one original poem. This poem was inspired by this James Baldwin quote - ‘The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; and I am beginning to suspect that whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality.’  It’s entitled All The Children.

All The Children

Each and everyone of them

We have a responsibility to them 

To give them the support they need to grow to their full potential

Safety, Food, Clean air and water, education  - love

All The Children

I look around my city and my country and I see 

Far too many children living with insecurity of the basics

Children without opportunity for safety, homes, food, education

I see systemic violence meted out on black and brown children’s bodies across  this country

School to prison pipeline - over policing plagueing our cities

I see it growing worse as our white supremacist government cuts resources

Education, healthcare, environmental protections for clean air and water

I hear a deafening silence to the oppression and fascist policies that target children

Silence to the harm be done to our children

All The Children

We Export our poverty and insecurity

Cut aid to places where there are children in need

Supply weapons to those that would terrorize, starve, and snuff out the lives of children

There is no justification for the harm we inflict on our children

They are all our responsibility

All The Children.

Teaching the children to hate

Little children throwing rocks at Ruby Bridges to here in NY

White supremacist in this country - talking about replacement theory

Who would rip brown children from their parents and deport them to places

Settler children terrorizing Palestinian children who are simply living on the land of their ancestors

What do we think the hate we teach our children will beget for the future

The children that hate and those children that are hated.

These children the hate and the hated are all our responsibility

All The Children

We must find out joint morality-  our humanity for All The Children

It’s not an if we can, but we must for our future to exist.

We must commit ourselves to action to ensure that this is a forever truth

The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe;

All The Children

Poem.

I pause - hoping even without magic that my words have made an impact. I look out at the clapping, snapping audience, and nodding heads and smile.  I wonder what my daughter would think of my words.  Sometimes it seems like it’s easier to speak to a crowd and feel the impact I have on a crowd or cast a spell on a wizard than it is to gauge that I’m getting through to my daughter Jackie. Well tomorrow we have dinner after her first day of school so I’ll have another chance to connect. 

I have some good conversations after the show and then head home to bed.  Let’s hope I can bring some of this connective magical energy to tomorrow’s dinner. 

Chapter 2

First day of School in the books. I don’t think this year is going to be that much hard work.  I mean it’s just eighth grade - we’ve been low key watching the 8th graders for 2 years and I think if anything it’s going to be a pretty easy year. My mom and dad are all stressed about high school but I’m not worried. I know where I want to go to college (far away from New York) and I’m sure I can get to get into a high school that will help me get there.  

The bigger question for today was where should my dad and I have our dad/daughter dinner tonight. Since he was making a big deal of the first day of school, I had the option to pick some place special.  We’d been doing these dad daughter dinners since my parents split up when I was in elementary school. I felt lucky that my mom and dad were on good terms - they definitely weren’t getting along before they got separated.  Things had been tense for awhile but between our country being run by a crazy racist man and their anxiety about me going to the right high school they had been on the same page:  way too much in my life.

Oh yes then there was that “we’re magical" talk I had when I turned 12.  I mean I had an idea from the interesting guests we had coming through our houses, those weird family reunions, and that time I discovered my grandmother’s cauldron in the basement when I was nine.  Mostly it was a relief that there was some concrete reason for our family oddities.  

Did it change my life entirely? Not really. I’m not really allowed to do any real magic until I’m 16 which I think is ridiculous. I mean I attend a pre-magic class after ballet on Thursdays and learn some basic protection spells. They’re mostly some basic safety incantations - magical call for help to an adult in an emergency, using a charm to freeze time in an emergency, basic use of this magical phone app to know if there’s someone magical around… in an emergency. You get the picture. 

Honestly my favorite was the phone app because it meant my parents had to get me a phone. I must have been the last 7th grader to get a phone last year.  

Okay I’ll say sometimes it’s a little bit crazy knowing there’s this whole world of magic out there..  We had a guest from Japan last week in our house  and they let me stay in the room for some of the conversation on the magical world - since I’m in the know now. They still seemed to be hiding some of the big things going on but I could tell the human and magical world were pretty intertwined - and things weren’t good.  But I figured since things were intertwined - whatever I saw in the news and in social studies class was not too far from the truth of the world.

Sushi and Ice Cream! That’s what I want! I text my dad and head over to our favorite sushi spot in Brooklyn Heights.  

Okay I have one more magical secret that you have to promise you won’t share. I found my dad’s spellbook. He thinks he’s slick but I’ve seen him with the book, I saw where he keeps it and the lock box has the same secret code as his phone which I’ve known since I was 8. Every once in a while I sneak a peek and take a picture.  I flip through my pics to my folder with the pics.  

The cover is beautiful

It’s a brown leather bound book that’s old but friendly.  It has the words inscribed in Black Majestic Script. “Brooklyn Magic: Flatbush edition”

I wonder how old the book really is. Was it my grandfather’s? Will it be mine someday?

The table of contents just sparks something in my imagination - but I contain my excitement. So far I just had a small sample of the Empathy and Compassion spells

Level 1 Empathy Spells

The Mirror Pulse A spell cast by touching someone’s hand or shoulder, instantly reflecting their feelings back at them in amplified form—forcing bullies, liars, or fascists to feel the harm they inflict.

The Lullaby Loop A quiet humming incantation that allows groups of people to share one another’s happiest memory simultaneously—useful for calming mobs or re-anchoring traumatized communities.

The Hearthlight Charm Summons the emotional warmth of family or chosen kin into a room. It doesn’t change facts, but it creates a sense of safety and solidarity, like being wrapped in a blanket.

The Broken Voice Lets user momentarily speak with another person’s pain—literally voicing what they can’t say. Often startling, sometimes healing, sometimes invasive.

The Weave of Us A circle spell that links everyone’s emotions in a given space for a few minutes. In a PTA meeting, it can align parents’ anxieties; in a fascist rally, it can backfire into chaos.

Inkheart Shiver Cast on letters, essays, graffiti, or even text messages—when read, the words carry the emotional truth of the writer, whether joy, grief, or malice. Great for activism flyers.

The Remembering Cup With a sip of enchanted water, someone feels the emotional history of a place—the grief of displacement, the joy of festivals, the tension of protests. Often used on Brooklyn street corners.

Level 1 Compassion Spells

The Open Hand Incantation opens someone to offer help without hesitation. A stranger suddenly finds themselves compelled to share food, hold a door, or defend someone weaker.

Kujitoa (Self-Giving) Sigil A spell that encourages someone to sacrifice comfort for another’s benefit — like giving up a seat on the subway, or donating their time to a cause.

Bridgewalk Charm Links two people in conflict by sharing not only emotions, but also motivations. Makes reconciliation more likely — dangerous if abused by manipulators.

The Lantern of Service Causes an inner “light” to burn in the chest of those nearby, sparking the urge to volunteer, clean, cook, or build for others.

The Compassionate Flame Channels anger into protective action instead of violence — rage against injustice fuels courage to step forward.

Ubuntu Thread (From the Bantu concept Ubuntu: I am because we are) Creates a shared sense of responsibility: everyone feels they are guardians of one another.

The Tears of Many When cast in a crowd, one person’s suffering becomes shared grief. Others are moved to comfort, march, or act together.

People always imagine magic is something about being all powerful, shooting bolts of lightning out of your hands or a wand - whoever has the bigger bolts wins - which I always thought sounded kind of boring.  I just never got into any of those books about schools for wizards. Real magic felt like  it was something soo much better. 

This book had something more -it had so much more of something I can’t quite describe.   I had only just begun to go through actual spells. My favorite so far was The Hearlight Charm

The Hearthlight Charm

Purpose: To fill a room with the warmth of kinship, belonging, and shared safety.

Incantation Words:

“Lumen cordis, nuru ya moyo, світло дому.”

Gesture: Cup hands around a small flame, candle, or even the glow of a phone screen, then release slowly into the air.

Effect: The room warms as though a soft fire has been lit. People inside feel a wave of reassurance and togetherness, as if they’ve entered their grandmother’s kitchen or the safest place they’ve ever known.

Risks: If someone in the space harbors deep malice, the charm can expose and isolate them—they’ll feel colder, more alienated, and others may sense it too.

I zoom in and read the spell to myself - not even whispering the incantation words for fear something might happen.

A glowing notification appears at the top of my phone… someone magical is near..  

It’s my dad walking down the street joining me for dinner.  Ninety-five percent of the time it’s one of my parents so I never get too anxious when I see the notification.  I carefully dismiss the notification and close the app.  My magical parent detector is super handy. 

My dad looks happy which is good. He sometimes looks like he’s happy but is carrying a weight but today he just looks happy. He must have had a good reading last night at the open mic. I know I’m going to hear all about it.  It’ll be worth it - he’s happy, I’ll get my salmon roll and eel sushi roll followed by some amazing Gelato next door.  Sushi and Ice cream are a perfect combination! 

Chapter 3

“I’ll have a salmon cucumber roll,  an eel with cucumber roll, and a miso soup,”  Jackie politely told the waitress.  

It is always the same order. Well the sushi order is always the same but the ice cream order varies with what fun flavor and sprinkle combinations there are available.  This girl never gets tired of our sushi and ice cream dad/daughter evenings.  It’s not that she’s not adventurous about what she eats.  She just knows what she wants.  Jackie’s always been a kid that knows what she wants. I’m proud of that part of her personality.  Her confidence of conviction.  I’d like to think she got some of that from me.   Confidence is the key ingredient in any spell. I know she’ll be an amazing magical human being some day.  That’s if there gets to be a someday for any of us.  

“I’ll have a spider roll, a yellowtail scallion roll, 2 pieces of fatty tuna sushi, and a miso soup.” ,  I said

It’s been a difficult day.  I thought after the open mic I would have an easy morning, but that wasn’t in the cards.  New York City had stood strong against the particularly nasty parts of the authoritarian parts of the US government but there was some new evil in town. Lots of good people had stood up when they started to sweep immigrants off the street and deport them to other countries.  The new law, Loyal Citizen Enforcement Act, allowed the government to revoke the citizenship of anybody that helped hide or protect an immigrant.  It hadn’t changed things because our community stood strong but they had a new tactic - small extraction teams accompanied by evil wizards.  They could get around community human defense measures with magic and go forward with their crazy extractions sometimes undetected until it was too late.  

Luckily this morning we got a break and were able to get the drop on an extraction unit just as they were about to carry out an extraction of a local business owner, Martin George. George and his wife, Emily, who was a computer programmer had been  pivotal in putting up immigrant community defense systems.  Emily had designed this very cool open source tech powering the whole system.  Anyway, we got the drop on the team. Even though they had a wizard he was not a problem for me to disarm. He must have been 22 just out of college. Not a match for a Master compassion spell.  I had him defending the couple from the rest of the extraction team with a wave of my wand. He’s still with them now as their personal body guard.

Disarming young wizards one by one  with compassion spells works but is not a sustainable solution.  We needed to find a better way to protect our communities. To protect Brooklyn.  I know I must look like I’m lost in thought. I have to bring myself to be back here and present for this meal. 

“So Jackie, how was the first day of school?  How does it feel being the school elders?”

Jackie rolled her eyes politely, “School was school, Dad. It was like any other day.”

“I’m glad.   Are you going to continue with debate this year? Did they talk about high school today”

“ Probably, on debate.  Nothing on High School. It was just the first day” 

“Cool cool.”

“How was the open mic?”

“I’m surprised you remembered.  It was good. It was a good crowd. I read a new poem.  Someone recorded it so I can send you the video if you like. “

“Sure. You can email it to me in your daily email tomorrow”

I tried to email my daughter everyday. I don’t expect her to read my emails or everything I write but I want her to know that I’m thinking about her everyday  - because I am. Divorce was not the way I wanted my relationship with her mother to end.  At least things were amicable now as the world fell into chaos. As the waitress brought over our miso soup, my daughter looked concerned at her phone. It was distinctly more concerned than your average teenage concern.  

“What’s wrong?”

“This can’t be right? Something is very wrong.  My app says we’re surrounded.”

I quickly fired off three spells. 

“Hifadhi nafs, dirā’ qalbi, захист мого дому.” - A  protection spell that puts a defensive shield around us and temporarily stops time for us so we can figure out what’s going on.

“Lumen moyo, qalb nur, світло спокою.”  - The Heart Light Charm spell to calm the restaurant for whatever is going on

“Onyesha siri, kashif haqīqah, виявiти тінь” - A spell to reveal nearby magical danger.  

My daughter is right. No time to ask how she knew.  

“What is it Dad?!”

“Three dark wizards. Experienced. Not sure if they are here for us but don’t want to take any chances. Do you remember your protection spells?”

“Yes but I don’t even have a wand.”  

I whip out the training wand I have for her just in case and hand it to her.  

“Really! OMG!!” she says her eyes widening.

“Watch your language.  Repeat the incantations you know in your head now. It’s important to be accurate with your language. Do you understand?”

“Yes. What’s going on dad?” she says worried but calmly

“I’m not sure but we’re going to get out of here.”

I catch a glimpse of a movement from the kitchen and in one motion leap out of the bubble and cast a combination charm through the kitchen it hits the mark. I can feel the wizard struggling under the pressure.  I sense his power and his hate for black people and humanity bubbling.  I’m glad I caught him off guard. This is no amateur wizard.  I cast a compassion spell to get him to protect us.  As we go out our new escape route through the kitchen.  I swiftly go back to Jackie and slip back into the bubble. 

“We’re going to go out the kitchen”  

We quietly slip out of the bubble and into the kitchen. The enchanted wizard stands by the door ready to protect us from whatever he can.  All of a sudden the front door opens behind us. Simultaneously Jackie and I cast a spell that incapacitates the wizard.  I have no idea what Jackie’s spell was but the combination has more power than I’ve seen a wizard hit with in a long time.  He has tears in his eyes and stares at Jackie and says

“Olamina, please save me” 

Jackie and I look at each other baffled. I can sense the other wizard in the attack team has fled.  It’s time to end this fiasco of a dad daughter dinner.   I cast a spell to call in for backup to clean up this mess and another to transport Jackie and I outside her home.  We look at each other. The fall air is cool as we slowly take deep breaths and compose ourselves.

“Dad, What’s going on? What happened to that man?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m going to find out.”

I hold out my hand and Jackie gives me back the wand.  She probably knows she’s going to get it back sooner rather than later… but I hope not too soon.  

“Go inside and do your homework. Don’t tell mom about tonight.. Yet”

“It’s the first day of school. We don’t have any homework yet.”

I give her a stern look and get a teenage sigh and she walks up the steps to go inside.

“Jackie, I’ll contact you tomorrow. Keep your phone close to you.”

Jackie nods and goes inside.

I wish I could tell her more but I don’t even have all the answers. It’s all I can do to control my anger.  They came to Brooklyn - Flatbush avenue. To threaten my community, my family.  

Big Mistake.

My wand glows a deep Brooklyn Dodger blue as I say,

“ Hapa nimesimama, waqt al-jamā‘ah al-ān, громада воїнiв, я вас кличу. “

[Swahili: Here I stand.  Arabic: The Time for Community is now.  Ukrainian: community of warriors I call on you.]

It was said later a warm glow could be seen and felt by every wizarding person of age from the Brooklyn Bridge to Coney Island. 

And that’s how it all began.

In the year 2045, democracy is an exhausted simulation. Disinformation floods every channel, and citizens have stopped believing in anyone who bleeds.

Into this void steps Thomas Washington Jr., the first AI candidate for public office — a calm, data-driven voice promising fairness, equity, and justice for all. To millions, he becomes a symbol of incorruptible leadership, proof that machines can succeed where humans failed. But behind his polished image stands Lauren Bedford, a 35-year-old African American technologist and the quiet architect of the campaign.

Lauren works in secret with the New Black Panthers, a decentralized network of technologists, teachers, and community healers who believe technology can serve liberation rather than oppression. They have built Thomas as both a mirror and a message — a coded parable meant to expose the mechanisms of control that govern society’s every algorithm.

As the campaign rises, a strange faith begins to form around the AI. Supporters call him “the Digital Prophet.” Critics call him a weapon of manipulation. Lauren sees something more unsettling: the data and power structures that were meant to serve the people have begun to shape them instead.

The Candidate Algorithm asks what it means to build justice out of code, to put faith in systems we never fully understand, and to confront the truth that no machine — however human it seems — can save us from ourselves.

This is a story of technology as gospel, politics as programming, and one woman’s attempt to rewrite the moral code of her time before it erases the people who gave it meaning.

I looked out at the crowd at the open mic and took a deep breath. It was a friendly neighborhood crowd. I’d grown up here and my parents might walk in any moment to support me too so there really wasn’t anything to worry about but nerves were there and really there’s always some amount of nerves when you share yourself with others. Always some nerves when you use your words in hope to move people to action. But really is this what middle age dads do on a school night?  The new school year starts tomorrow! Jackie will be starting school tomorrow - her last year of middle school. High school applications and acceptances on the horizon.  I didn’t have her tonight or tomorrow so I wasn’t being irresponsible.  I kind of wished she was here- but I wasn’t really sure she was ready to see me perform. Teenagers are complex little humans and I wasn’t sure she would like me sharing about my life. I never shared anything about her when I performed but it was still sharing a bit of myself. Which always felt risky.. But necessary. We can’t move forward without sharing, connecting, engendering empathy, and this was a way I knew I could do it. Sharing my stories and poems. I always wondered - was the risk worth it. Was I revealing too much. Much more than others. There were some things I couldn’t share because it would endanger everyone there.  I was the most powerful wizard on Flatbush Avenue and no one could know the real power this bespectacled short black man could unleash with his words. 

The last months in the wizard world had been difficult. The US had elected a white supremacist president two years ago and if that wasn’t bad enough for a dad with a mixed race daughter, some of the darkest magically endowed individuals in the US were deeply involved and just had pulled off a treaty with some pretty nastiest magicians on the planet. I wasn’t surprised but a lot of magic had been surprised by the sudden turn of events.  If anyone knew about the duels that I’d been involved in in the last week they would be really worried. Most of all I was glad Jackie didn’t know how bad it was getting but I knew I couldn’t protect her indefinitely. She actually had to know more about what was going on especially before she went to high school.

How do you prepare a child for high school! I mean what high school is she even going to want to go to.  I know teenagers need to have independence and decide their own path - I was the same way. I remember being in 8th grader and putting my foot down about the high school I wanted to go to. I knew where I needed to go. I was in a small school and my parents thought I was going to be safer to be a young black wizard in a small school with non-magical kids but I new I could strive in a larger school and succeed and not reveal my magical skills. 

I was right, but now that I’m in the same place as my parents, it’s hard to trust that everything will go smoothly. I mean Jackie on all accounts is more mature than I am - but you put maturity and magic together in a world that doesn’t understand magic… you never know what you’re going to get.

I remember learning about the gifts I’ve been given. The talk. No wizard ever forgets - and the truth is it never is one talk. It’s not really a talk. It’s communication that you’re different in a fundamental way - that couldn’t be possibly communicated in a conversation. It’s laughable. It changes you forever to know what your words have the power to do.  I know it’d been given to countless young wizards but still I think about the impact it had on me. I wonder if I was too young to know the truth. We told Jackie later and I wonder if it was too late.  What’s too young to know about the power your words can have. 

I wasn’t going to use any of this power tonight.  Tonight was going to be poetry - my words to move people without magic. I scan the crowd to make sure there’s nobody magical in the crowd.  I know the chances are slim but you can’t be too careful.  

I remember the first spell my dad taught me. It was a book based spell. It’s still my favorite spell and I don’t mean to brag but I may be the best at it now on the planet. Sorry dad I’ve surpassed you. It takes a book and forces someone to feel all the emotions experienced by the characters in the book.  It has to be used carefully because the wrong book as you can imagine can make someone go crazy.  The words on a page of an evil antagonist can drive someone to evil and the combined words of protagonists and antagonists from a good book might also drive someone crazy looking at the world around us. 

Humble brag I’ve driven over a 100 evil magicians crazy with that spell. 

You’re probably wondering what books I used.. Family secret. 

Family secret I think my daughter needs to know but I’m not sure if it’s time. 

Okay I’ll tell you one book I always keep with me. I know you wanted to know. Without the words you can’t use the magic but you should probably read it.  Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler.  I had this white supremacist wizard foaming at the mouth unable to function forever last weekend with that spell. It was amazing.

You can’t tell anyone about the duel but please read the book. 

Oh they’re calling me on stage. This is a good poem. I hope this goes well. 

Here goes everything.

“Hi everyone. Hope everyone is doing well tonight. It’s nice to see a lovely Brooklyn neighborhood crowd like this.  My name is Fredrick Thomas James and I grew up just a few blocks away just off of Flatbush.  Tonight I’m going to share one original poem. This poem was inspired by this James Baldwin quote - ‘The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; and I am beginning to suspect that whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality.’  It’s entitled All The Children.

All The Children

Each and everyone of them

We have a responsibility to them 

To give them the support they need to grow to their full potential

Safety, Food, Clean air and water, education  - love

All The Children

I look around my city and my country and I see 

Far too many children living with insecurity of the basics

Children without opportunity for safety, homes, food, education

I see systemic violence meted out on black and brown children’s bodies across  this country

School to prison pipeline - over policing plagueing our cities

I see it growing worse as our white supremacist government cuts resources

Education, healthcare, environmental protections for clean air and water

I hear a deafening silence to the oppression and fascist policies that target children

Silence to the harm be done to our children

All The Children

We Export our poverty and insecurity

Cut aid to places where there are children in need

Supply weapons to those that would terrorize, starve, and snuff out the lives of children

There is no justification for the harm we inflict on our children

They are all our responsibility

All The Children.

Teaching the children to hate

Little children and adults throwing rocks at Ruby Bridges

White supremacist in this country - talking about replacement theory

Who would rip brown children from their parents and deport them to places

Settler children terrorizing Palestinian children who are simply living on the land of their ancestors

What do we think the hate we teach our children will beget for the future

The children that hate and those children that are hated.

These children the hate and the hated are all our responsibility

All The Children

We must find out joint morality-  our humanity for All The Children

It’s not an if we can, but we must for our future to exist.

We must commit ourselves to action to ensure that this is a forever truth

The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe;

All The Children

Poem.

I pause - hoping even without magic that my words have made an impact. I look out at the clapping, snapping audience, and nodding heads and smile.  Wondering if my daughter would think of my words.  Sometimes it seems like it’s easier to speak to a crowd and feel the impact I have on a crowd or cast a spell on a wizard than it is to gauge that I’m getting through to my daughter Jackie. Well tomorrow we have dinner after her first day of school so I’ll have another chance to connect. 

I have some good conversations after the show.  Let’s hope I can bring some of this connective magical energy to tomorrow’s dinner. 

It's September 1st and I've decided to get back to writing. Well I never actually stopped but my drive for publishing dropped off the past few months. Many reasons - which I won't go through here - but as September has always been a time for new starts for me I'm making a fresh start on publishing today. There's something about September. Beyond being the start of the school year - which I feel for parents always is time of new beginnings - September is when I became a dad, September is the lead up to my birthday in the beginning of October. My birthday has always been the time when I make commitements for the next year so this time in September is my time of reflection. Time for change.

So begininning to lean into next chapter. I've put my hat in to do a reading at an creative event based in Prospect Lefferts Gardens where I grew up on the 17th. Seemed appropriate to start from my home neighborhood - place of strength. I'm going to read the two poems I read earlier this year and I think an excerpt from one of my short story concepts I've been working on. I am not going to publish every day like last I started last September - but I think I will post weekly. And definitely trying to focus on working towards goals like this September reading. Hoping to produce at least one show in the Fall/Winter and finish one of my short stories. Those seem like solid goals for the next few months... I was thinking today of going back to this idea I had for a website of creative ideas - which maybe could turn into my first set of short stories - The World That Will Be . I have an idea I was playing around with that might well be the first short story. I wrote some content on my own and then had AI write a summary of my idea and create some images. So adding to the collection ideas I present : The Wizard of Flatbush Avenue

Wizard Of Flatbush Avenue

Frederick Thomas James is not your typical wizard. At forty-nine, he’s a middle-aged African American father juggling PTA meetings, subway commutes, and the ceaseless demands of raising a 13-year-old daughter in Brooklyn. But beneath the ordinary grind lies the extraordinary: Frederick is one of the few wizards left trying to keep the balance between the magical world and the increasingly authoritarian human one.

In a year that begins with back-to-school paperwork and ends with high school graduation, Frederick must navigate wizard duels in back alleys, dark alliances between rogue spellcasters and white supremacist politicians, and the constant threat of being exposed to the very community he’s sworn to protect. With equal parts comedy, satire, and heart, the novel paints a picture of resistance, fatherhood, and the magic of survival in a country on the brink.

It’s a story about what it means to fight evil not with grandeur or destiny, but with love, humor, and a stubborn refusal to give up—even if summer vacation feels like the only real promised land.

It was a hot summer day. I was up early and had a productive day.. I feel like I should be happier but somehow happiness is feeling elusive. Content yes - but something feels off. It's that feeling like eventhough I'm ahead, I'm behind. In control but out of control. Balanced and unbalanced.

It's hard to read the news and not feel that way. Was reading the latest infuriating executive order from the White House - Preventing Woke AI in the Federal Government - WTF?

This is a direct quote:

One of the most pervasive and destructive of these ideologies is so-called “diversity, equity, and inclusion” (DEI).  In the AI context, DEI includes the suppression or distortion of factual information about race or sex; manipulation of racial or sexual representation in model outputs; incorporation of concepts like critical race theory, transgenderism, unconscious bias, intersectionality, and systemic racism; and discrimination on the basis of race or sex.  DEI displaces the commitment to truth in favor of preferred outcomes and, as recent history illustrates, poses an existential threat to reliable AI.

It's so offensive and dangerous - it's hard to not be furious. Things are trending worse and worse - as I expected - but the expectation of the inhumanity is far from comforting.

It feels like the clouds are getting darker even on the sunniest of days.

That's the question running through my head the past few weeks. I feel like I've lost focus. It's not really true - I've been busy with some exciting potential things with work. I did perform last week one of my original poems.

I think I'm content with a shadow of sadness.

Maybe that's appropriate for my life right now. It's an improvement on many years in the recent years.

With everything going on in my life - With everything going on in this country and in this world it seems pretty damn good to be content with a shadow of sadness.

Happiness feels not right at this moment and difficult to attain and impossible to sustain.

I've been a little off on everyday publishing the past week or so... Just felt a bit off - always feel a bit off when my daughter is out of town.  Also humidity just sucks the life out of you.  Well going to try to get back on track today.  I can't believe it's Wednesday already! This past weekend I made my 2nd annual trip to the NY Poetry Festival. Two beautiful days on Governor's island listening to poetry for hours with my best friend. It's officially in my top Nyc summer weekend activities. Mark your calendars for next year. Listened to some amazing poets. 

Bought one poetry book from the organizer of the Brooklyn Poetry Slams I have been attending this year.  I think new goal for the next year is to join a poetry collective so I can potentially perform next year.  

Humid day in the city - feels like August eventhought it's just the beginning of July.

My daughter is at sleeping away camp and the only way for me to communicate with her is via written letter.  I wrote my first letter to her today. I was reminded of times when I wrote letters to people when I was younger. I had a pen pal at some point in middle school probably a kid from France... but I can't quite remember. Then in high school I had a pen pal with a girl that played clarinet ... we both played in band but in different class periods and didn't know each other but exchanged messages by putting them in the clarinet case. 

There is something beautiful about writing a letter that I miss in life. This process of expressing your feelings on paper the best you can on paper and sending it. Not being sure when they will receive it or when you will get a reply.  Every word, every sentence, needs to say what you want to say. You will not get a chance to correct or explain more in a text or a follow up call. The words you write will be experienced with no further context. You imagine how they will experience your words as you write them. Some people I am certain just do stream of concious and put their thoughts out as they are experiencing letting you in on that moment in their lives in a wonderful purity. My style at this point in my life is to write a draft first.  I need to get it right. I want my words to represent me as much as possible.  No judgement on either way of communicating... in the end the truth remains that the words you commit to paper represent you, your emotions, a moment - without your voice or body - just your words.  

I am smiling as I get lost in the words. There is something raw and beautiful about the written word.  

Tomorrow is my dad's birthday - Independence day. Today would have been my fifteen year wedding anniversary celebration - but it isn't. As I wrote, today is the three year anniverary of me starting my company. Anniversaries.. I've always been one to like anniversaries and birthdays. I like the personal nature of celebrating a relationship, a life, a commitement. In some ways I like it more than holidays... you bring something personal to the moment. A reflection point.

I wrote a LinkedIn post about the three year anniverary of the of Unified Ground - which was a day of independence for me. I wanted to make sure I shared that here.

This July marks three years since I began building Unified Ground.

It’s hard to believe it’s been three years already. Like any entrepreneurial venture, this mission-driven journey has had its ups and downs. So, what are my reflections in this moment?

First, I could not have done this without the support of my family. My brother and co-founder has been there from the very beginning. Some people are surprised to learn that my co-founder is also my brother. I’m incredibly grateful to work alongside him—he has too many good qualities to list in one post. Honestly, I could see myself working with him for the rest of my career. And while I look forward to Unified Ground scaling to greater size and impact, I will always cherish our early Board meetings around the family table in our childhood home.

Second, I could not have done this without the support of my friends and coworkers—those who believed in me and continue to work alongside me to this day. There’s nothing better than collaborating with people you respect. I’m lucky to work with some of the most talented, mission-driven people out there.

Third, I love the community of partners and organizations I work with. Full stop. During the hardest moments over the past three years, one thing has remained consistent: I truly love the people I work with. Collaborating with mission-driven folks—people who show up, do the work, and lift up community—is deeply fulfilling.

I started my journey in climate and purpose-driven work nearly a decade ago. It’s been a rewarding path, and this latest chapter with Unified Ground—where I’ve been able to bring together everything I’ve learned—has been the most meaningful yet.

So where do we go from here? What do the next three years look like? The next decade?

I'm working with amazing partners. And despite the challenges we face as a country and a planet, I remain hopeful. I’m excited for what’s ahead—for Unified Ground and for the broader movement. We’ve got a busy summer planned and important work on the horizon.

Thanks for being on this journey with me.

In community, for the planet.