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It has been a week. One of the longest I’ve had in a while. For my friends in the United States, it has no doubt felt much longer. I’ve dedicated more thoughts to this in the last section of this email, but before you begin scrolling, I’ve decided to start this edition of the newsletter with a fun fact—and a question.
My friend Sonia Delesalle-Stolper wrote a lovely piece (which you can read en français here) about how 28.4 million liters of beer will have expired by the time the lockdown in Britain finally lifts. That is the equivalent of 50 million pints! She writes about how pubs are to the British what cafe terraces are to the French—it’s where people meet, laugh, argue and, of course, drink. Without them, Sonia writes, life is sadder; it’s less colorful.
This got me wondering: If the French have terraces and the Brits have pubs, what do Americans have? I took my question to Twitter and got some interesting responses: Cars. Bars. Diners. Dunkin’ Donuts. Chuck E. Cheese. The shooting range (har, har). I’m pretty swayed by cars, if for no other reason than that they are what get us to one of the very best American exports: the drive-thru.
Have other ideas? Hit the ‘reply’ button at the end of this email and let me know.
What I’ve written
So much is currently being written about what is happening right now, and it’s easy to understand why. The now is scary. It’s depressing. It’s urgent. As a journalist, I spend a lot of time thinking about the now: how it differs from the past, what it tells us about what’s to come.
More recently, though, I’ve been preoccupied with the future—specifically, the future of eating out. (Even more specifically, where I plan on eating out once lockdown ends. The answer, dear reader, is Dishoom.) In a piece I reported on with my colleague Tim McLaughlin, we explore what’s in store for pandemic dining. Hong Kong, where Tim lives and where restaurants have reopened, offers a preview: think temperature checks, time limits for eating, and dividers between tables. You can read all about it here.
I also wrote about the future of travel, and what the pandemic means for our summer holidays. This issue is particularly salient in Europe, where tourism is not only a massive chunk of the economy (just ask Spain and Italy), but a fundamental part of European life. “The summer season is the lungs” of Europe, Margrethe Vestager, the Danish politician and European Commission executive vice president, told me in a recent interview. Read more to find out how Vestager and others think the summer can still be saved.
What I’ve read
This moving piece by Adrienne Green was written for what would have been Ahmaud Arbery’s 26th birthday. I found it equally meaningful after the killing of George Floyd:
“As James Baldwin once put it, ‘You always told me, “It takes time.” It’s taken my father’s time, my mother’s time, my uncle’s time, my brothers’ and my sisters’ time. How much time do you want for your progress?’ The excruciating waiting, the anguish that a lot of communities have felt in ways they cannot name, is punctuated by days like today.”
This essential dispatch by Tyler Tynes from this week’s protests in Brooklyn:
“I wish it was only the visceral malice of individuals that we had to combat. That would be easier. But racism has so many rungs: animosity, privilege, access, apathy, bigotry, a dastardly set activated by countless interactions. It is as present as the air around us: You can’t live if you don’t breathe it in.”
The Atlantic’s latest cover story by Anne Applebaum on how the United States got to this point—and the people who paved the way—is both timely and timeless:
“Each violation of our Constitution and our civic peace gets absorbed, rationalized, and accepted by people who once upon a time knew better. If, following what is almost certain to be one of the ugliest elections in American history, Trump wins a second term, these people may well accept even worse.”
What I’ve listened to
This newsletter doesn’t usually have a music section, but for this edition I’ve decided to make an exception. This week, I’ve been listening to Mississippi Goddam by Nina Simone. For a song that was released in 1964, its lyrics feel extremely relevant now. Give it a listen.
You keep on saying 'Go slow!'
'Go slow!'But that’s just the trouble
'Do it slow'
Desegregation
'Do it slow'
Mass participation
'Do it slow'
Reunification
'Do it slow'
Do things gradually
'Do it slow'
But bring more tragedy
'Do it slow'
Why don't you see it?
Why don't you feel it?
I don't know
I don't know
What I’m thinking about
I’ve been thinking about the words “I can’t breathe,” and how they have once again become a rallying cry in America. These were the last words said by Eric Garner as he was strangled by the deadly grip of a New York City police officer in 2014. Six years later, George Floyd uttered those same words as he was pinned down beneath the knee of a Minneapolis police officer for exactly 8 minutes and 46 seconds. An eternity.
I’ve been thinking a lot about George, as well as Breonna Taylor, Philando Castile, Michael Brown, and countless other black Americans whose lives were cut short by our country's systemic racism. I’ve been thinking about my friends who are hurting right now and how I can best support them. Thankfully, there are plenty of resources available for those looking for them. I found this compilation especially useful.
Until next time,
Yasmeen
P.S. I’ve been immensely proud of my colleagues at The Atlantic, who are providing some of the most essential coverage on everything happening right now. This week, they published that extraordinary denouncement of President Trump by his former defense secretary, James Mattis. If you like the work The Atlantic is doing and are in a position to support us, please consider subscribing. It may be a “boring but very nasty” magazine to some, but it’s pretty vital to me.