060 The Auntie Era
The Radical Act of Auntie-ing
Because being an Auntie involves gushing over the subjects of one’s affection, and because gushing is not a concise form, this newsletter is not short. If you're looking for "takeaways," skip to the end where I've got a list on what it takes to be an Auntie, (which could just as easily be a list of what it takes to be a restorative justice practitioner or a heart-centered leader.)
Also, I know a bunch of powerful middle-aged men are getting a bit hysterical over the existence of Aunties (of the childless variety anyway). This is so odd and callous, I can’t even dignify it with a response. This newsletter (apart from this note here) doesn’t acknowledge any of that nonsense. Instead it is celebratory, centering the Auntie world view, and nobody else’s. For once.
1. Auntie Era
I have entered my Auntie era and I love it. If every third podcast didn't order me to strength train or else risk decades of bone-breaking frailty (or if I didn't need to earn a living), I'd permanently don a cobalt blue muumuu and sit in my front parlor and drink tea and eat scones all day, while receiving callers and holding court. My front parlor (which I still need to acquire) would be a tall space, probably rendered clay red, and have a full-height bay window. It would be crowded with plants, art, books and, why not, a grand piano. (Though realistically I'd probably only use the grand piano as a bench top for my fancy espresso machine.) Basically my life would be an amalgamation of Matisse paintings.
Ironically—given this grand vision is out of reach for now—one of my favorite places to be an Auntie is at the local boxing gym where I do my podcast-induced strength training. When Gio is on the front desk, I wave hello and he checks me in so I don't have to work that newfangled self-check-in screen. I pop over and have a chat with the young woman who is working on her English. I nod warmly at all the young men who nod politely back. I shriek "Maria for President!" when she does dips from the top of a piece of equipment so it looks like she's one of those running-man illusionists in mid-air. I celebrate the young woman who sprints after our strength workout because she has a physical exam coming up. I have quarterly reviews with our instructor on her personal training business and am blown away by her progress (she’s only four clients away from her goal). "I use Notion now," she says while showing me a matrix of linked documents that automate her referral and social media strategy. "Wow. The student becomes the teacher," I sigh dramatically.
At the boxing gym I have absolutely no need to be impressive. In any way. This has gifted me with a strange kind of Auntie freedom, as well as a kind of mild authority. I get to say my truth including intermittently yelling, "Oh my God this is so awful! Why do we even do this!" to the amusement of the people around me. Can you imagine telling a truth like this in a sanctimonious yoga studio where I suspect people equate their ability to move through a vinyasa to a kind of moral superiority? Whereas at the boxing gym, once when I turned up ten minutes late some people whooped and clapped because "Girl, you still showed up.”
Who knew being an Auntie in a masculine-leaning boxing gym would also be the way that I, as a woman, would finally get to be fully self-expressed.
2. Legitimate Auntie-ing
I am also a real life Auntie, which I am about to discuss ad nauseam:
1.Remote Auntie-ing
Mortified, I recently face-timed my twin nephews a day late for their 8th birthday. “I’m so excited to hear ALL about your birthday” I shrieked to cover up the fact I’d completely forgotten it. “Tell me everything!” They showed me their new fish tank and their 3D-printed Connect Four game, then Hamish took the phone and began to give me a tour of the house they’d recently moved into.
First he showed me the living room, kitchen, and pool. All fairly standard. But then he brought me back into the kitchen to open up the dishwasher and show me how their glasses aren’t cloudy anymore. 10 minutes later we were on the back deck and he was showing me, among many other features, the light switch that turns on the pool lights. 35 minutes later we were on the front lawn where he showed me the ninja ropes hung between two trees, a close up of the neighbor’s letter box, the car port, his parents’ cars, a long pan of the street as a whole, and the side entry to his parents’ room where, once inside I saw his father was still sound asleep.
42 minutes and 14 seconds later I mercifully received another call from a friend. “Oh no Hamish, I’m afraid someone’s calling me and I have to go.” We hung up and I felt a bit carsick.
But over the course of the following days the thing that brought me the most joy was remembering Hamish being so dedicated in sharing all the new things in his life with me. It makes my heart swell writing about it even now.
2.Brooklyn Auntie-ing
Recently, after years of not being in touch, I reached out to Courtney a past student who had the idea to write T R U S T out of white roses in the fence between the Department of Probation and the 73rd precinct. I was writing about this for an Objects of Civility newsletter, and wanted to get his okay.
We set a date for a proper catch up and the following month Courtney, his peers Kimani and Emmanuel, and I met for lunch at a spot Emmanuel had picked out for us.
You cannot even believe how well they are doing. How kind they are. How accomplished. How god damn funny.
Courtney is an artist with a day job he enjoys and a boss who he respects, and who respects him. He has always seemed to be anchored to a deeper truth, especially when things become chaotic in the world. He told us stories that had us all throwing our heads back, or slapping the table, as he somehow got us to laugh at the tragic truths woven through so much of life.
Emmanuel has two jobs, one in tech and one at night as a court administrator. As it was when he was 16, his wisdom moves like a stealth undercurrent. When I tried to facilitate a conversation as though we were in a program he took me quietly aside as the others were ordering sandwiches and said: we are hanging out and enjoying each others company, we don’t need that program stuff anymore. Be with us.
Kimani, who has always emitted high voltage charisma, has channeled this superpower into becoming an entrepreneur. He has launched multiple businesses, including a highly successful restaurant with his cousin, and a suite of ATM machines, one of which is on a cash only party boat and for which he can charge $5 per withdrawal!
As a few hours whiled away there were many moments when my heart almost rocketed out of my chest and splattered on the ceiling. I was so proud.
They have become so much more of themselves.
3.Professional Auntie-ing
When Jean Michele, another graduate from my Young New Yorker days, arrived to help me with a workshop at the Pratt Institute, it was the first time in over three years we had seen each other. As he arrived I was partway through the first section of the workshop, and I lit up and waved at him madly as I continued to speak loud and clear instructions to the design students.
After a pause, Jean Michele entered the circle made up of almost 60 junior design students and gave me a big hug. "I missed you!" he exclaimed. "I missed you too," I replied.
There were many powerful things about the workshop, and the students hung on Jean Michele's every word of course. But I'll write about that in another newsletter.
The thing that I'm reflecting on here, through the lens of Auntie-ing is this:
So often the miracle of intergenerational relationships is that you can co-create your own powerful micro-culture across time and space.
The dynamic that Jean Michele and I have cultivated (along with many other mentors and graduates) is one of open-heartedness, belief, beauty, courage and acknowledgment. One of being seen and heard and known.
But the compounding miracle is this: in those qualities existing between us, they become present for the whole group.
This is how Auntie-ing changes the world.
4. Conclusion
The history and influence of Aunties remains largely invisible, of course. But I assert that millions of Aunties, across time, have tipped the world towards kindness. Sometimes from a board room, but far more often from a kitchen table or across a garden fence.
What Aunties so often do—via their mere presence—is offer young people a literal reprieve from a critical, mean, and perplexing world.
The company of an Auntie can form a kind of magical bubble for young people to step into so that, with ease and joy, they can experience their own goodness. Their own beauty. And the truths their simple existence gifts the world.
3. You’re an Auntie if:
You are thrilled by the sight of your young people. Your face lights up, you might even squeal or dab your eyes.
You're lighter fluid to their natural self-expression.
My niece is obsessed with leopard print? Here's what she got from me for birthdays over the years.
My student is 16 and has made some rap merch? I made sure to wear his t-shirt every time I saw them.
Sometimes upon meeting you, your young people burst like a ruptured dam wall, pouring out their emotional life—especially if it's about something they have done "wrong".
Why?
Because even when they make mistakes, with you they are not “bad”, they are just learning and growing. With you they can face what has happened and move through it, or better yet, let it go. With you they are perfect.
They fascinate you. Genuinely, you are always learning from them.
"Sorry, why is the Connect Four self-sorting?" I asked Hamish as he loaded it with balls and then released it showing me how the red balls went one side and the yellow the other. "Because the spirals on the balls go in different directions, Auntie Rachel," he replied plainly, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Or“What, so you don't say facts anymore?”, I asked Courtney, Emmanuel and Kimani over lunch.
“Now we say type shi!” Courtney laughs.
“It means word, or I agree with you” Kimani adds.“Or what you said was good.” Emmanuel clarifies.
“Really” I laugh and then practice using the new words in a sentence over my breakfast sandwich. Ketchup on a breakfast sandwich: bullshi. Hot sauce on a breakfast sandwich: type shi, everyone cracking up.Rarely do you scold or control.
"We want to ride the elevator by ourselves, Auntie Rachel," my nieces said at 4 years old after I let them do it once at an art gallery for fun—only to have their then 75-year-old grandmother sprint across the court faster than I knew was still possible while flapping her arms and screaming at me.
"I want you to too," you'll sigh. "But Granny will get me in trouble if I don't come with you." We all nodded in understanding.
Or
"On my bike I can always get away from the cops," they might front to their peers at 17.
"I bet you can," you'll say. "But what will happen on the day that's not true?" You ask earnestly.
"That doesn't even matter," their friend will interrupt. "Either way, they know who you are now. They're just going to come pick you up at your crib."
"You've got to decide if you're going to be around or not," another will press.The extraordinary fact is, they are uniquely and magnificently themselves. And when they’re around you, the world gets to remember this too.
You are a FABULOUS auntie. Would to every young person have one like you!
being an auntie is the best thing in the world, I loved reading your thoughts on it too 🤗