
The Dream of Harmony
Let me share something with you that I’ve only told a few people before now: for years, I dreamed of moving to Alaska. Not because I’d ever been there, but because I got hooked on a TV show from the ‘90s called Northern Exposure. Cicely stole my heart—this fictional, remote town filled with quirky, deeply eccentric, yet profoundly diverse characters who genuinely cared for one another. Of course, in real life, I would have absolutely hated living in the freezing, isolated Alaskan wilderness, but the idea of that town stayed with me. I kept dreaming of a place where everyone, regardless of where they came from, just got along.
But as the 21st century rolled in, reality hit hard. After 9/11, I watched the political landscape shift dramatically, sensing early on that a wave of intense conservatism would inevitably lead to increased hostility toward minorities. When Barack Obama was elected, I knew the backlash would get exponentially worse. To process what I was witnessing, I launched my blog, About Race, in 2011. For a decade, I documented the fractures, the systemic bias, and the hardening divisions in our country.
Yet, all through those heavy years of writing about our harsh realities, that Northern Exposure dream never faded. Rather, my drive to live someplace like that increased. Living in a place where everyone is accepted and their perspectives and cultural beliefs are respected felt more like a need than a want. A place where people break bread together; have lively conversations; invest in the wellbeing of everyone; and find lasting bonds of friendship and community. A place where differing perspectives open minds, and collaboration improves the quality of life for everyone. A safe place. Where people live in harmony with nature and stand in awe of both its beauty and its power.
In 2021, I decided if the real world wasn’t going to build it, I would. I sat down and wrote The Rightful Future, the first book of A Cadence Mystery, and created my own multicultural, folklore-infused town.
This is the world of Cadence—a town built on a dream of harmony, but shadowed by a reality it can’t escape:
The town of Cadence mirrors its musical namesake: a punctuation mark that can either resolve a phrase in perfect harmony or leave the listener hanging in agonizing suspense. Since its founding in 1789 on sacred Seneca land, this diverse community has strived for harmony, serving as a welcoming crossroads where vibrant cultures and ancient folklores reside. Where individuals feel safe for perhaps the first time in their lives. A place where they feel at home. Where readers find a few hours of escape from the political divisiveness in our country and feel as much a part of the Cadence community as any character does.
However, right from its establishment, outside forces have brought a constant threat of unresolved violence, fracturing the peace and forcing the town into a series of suspenseful, fear-fueled tragedies. In 1921, in order to survive and protect its original mission—believing the rest of the world, if given time, would evolve—Cadence vanished into hiding for 100 years. Its violent past was buried in the silence. In 2021, the century of silence ended. But the world hasn’t resolved into perfect harmony, and the violent past buried in silence found its voice. It speaks through ancient folklore and nature. Amongst the chaos of a divided country, the past is crying to be heard. It cries for justice.
The Truth in the Mirror: The Memoirs
If my fiction is where I build a dream of what harmony could look like, my memoirs are where I confront the raw, unfiltered truth of living in an America that refuses to find its resolve. These books are my “own voices” documentation of the fractures I have witnessed and lived through—explorations of race, family, and the enduring demand for cultural change. They put a face on the victims of a racist America.
American Dreaming: A Memoir of Interracial Love, Estrangement, and Race Equality
This is the deeply personal story of my own life’s crossroads. Beginning when I met my husband at Syracuse University in the mid-70s, it chronicles the complex reality of my decades-long interracial relationship and the sharp sting of family estrangement. In the book, I compare my parents’ interethnic marriage and their experience with estrangement to my own interracial marriage and estrangement from them. While my parents shared a common skin color, their home was unhappy and fractured by alcoholism and constant fighting. In contrast, my husband and I found our strength by turning to one another, bonding deeply as a united front against the assaults and biases of the outside world. American Dreaming looks past the romanticized ideals of integration to examine the heavy price exacted by systemic bias and prejudicial interactions, while proving that true harmony is built from the inside out—a perspective that many say offers a definitive roadmap for America to end racial strife.
Another Day in Post-Racial America: To the Mothers of the Black Lives Matter Movement, with Love
Written in the shattering wake of Trayvon Martin’s murder, this collection of essays is a direct response to the myth of a post-racial society. It is an offering of love and shared grief for the mothers who have lost their children to racially driven violence and police brutality. Weaving together national tragedies with personal experiences of racism—including a terrifying assault on my loved one, Ronald, at a bowling alley because a group of white men didn’t like seeing us together—this book refuses to let the past stay buried in silence. It stands as a witness to systemic trauma and an uncompromising demand for a true cultural reckoning.
What My Stories Have in Common
Throughout my memoirs and my fiction, one theme remains the same: a divided country cannot survive on hostility and hatred. True change requires a deliberate commitment to love, equity, and acceptance. And a reckoning of our violent history. It isn’t an easy path to take, and for many, it is a bitter pill to swallow. But the world is big enough for all of us. If we want a future, we have to actively make room for everyone. Instead of holding fast to old beliefs of inequality and arming up to “be safe,” the way to truly do it is through open minds and open arms, welcoming people in the same way the good people of Cadence do.