It’s March, and although the wind is nice and brisk when walking outside and the flowers are blooming… it’s another month of grey monotony, when momentary glimpses of the sun are treasured by braving the 50-degree weather in short-sleeves until the clouds part with more consistency. I’m drinking (yet another) cup of mint tea; my tabby cat, max, nestled between my legs or curled up in his window seat. 

In the moments when I simply cannot be bothered, I turn to familiar favorites where no thinking is necessary – at least in theory. A recent rewatch of Ella Enchanted made me realize that although the movie has stayed the same, I clearly haven’t. When I was younger, the Disney movie impressed me with its commentary on racism, classism, and overall subjugation of those that are ‘othered’. That’s all well and cool, but this time around I noticed the absence of Areida’s voice and presence in the storyline. Although Slannen the elf becomes a lawyer to advocate for the rights of his own people, the exclusion of people of color is glaring given the lack of representation for real life parallels.

Representation matters not only for people of color, but as an example of what solidarity and equitable collaboration could look like. It’s something that’s been on my mind a lot lately. Having recently graduated, I find myself questioning how to bridge the knowledge I gained in class into my everyday: how to practice connecting and learning with community, how to stand in solidarity and collaborate, and how to have conversations about the intersectionality of the environment? This is why Areida’s absence bothers me more now than it did then– because I’ve spent four years learning what real solidarity actually requires, and the movie gestures at it without doing it. After my recent rewatch of Ella Enchanted, I realize that the questions are rooted in a general sense of limbo, a space in which without any outside structure I’m left with nuance.

Without solid footing, it’s tempting to stay within the cozy interior of my apartment, but I force myself to go out to a coffee shop or library most days and I’m always grateful for it. Staying on my phone isn’t good for me, but observing the neighborhood and the slow transition into spring takes me out of the doom spiral. It’s a lesson I come back to time and time again; participating with the world around me always provides some perspective.   

As I write this, it dawns on me that’s been the answer to finding solidity: I have to get out there and volunteer or attend events that represent those values. It might not give me answers right away, but it’s gotta be better than sitting in a pool of my own anxiety. 

P.S — Consider this my public commitment to getting off the couch.