Bi-Monthly By Ryan #25

Dear Comrades,

Writing letters to myself saved my life. I will never stop saying this because this is such a truth for me. My letters deepen my conversation with myself, which is constant, and ongoing.

With/in my letters to (and from) myself, I discuss my everyday emotions, general goings-on, and personal political strategy. I process, record, and reflect on my life, and lifetime. Time and again, I write myself away from discomfort, injustice, and pain, and back to ease, happiness, and a sense and feeling of being myself.

I write letters to and from myself because I have always been best suited to be in conversation with myself. In the past, I have existed in a state of isolation, including but not limited to cultural, ethnic, and racial— especially (and even) in my family. Because of who (and how) I have always been, I feel compelled to share my live-saving letter writing strategies with my community.

I love sharing my letter writing practice with my community of Black and Brown adoptees. Writing letters to and from myself is one of my many strategies of “coming back to myself,” as I call my process of grounding and regulating myself. My practice is such a powerful tool for regulating, soothing, and talking with myself.

As Black and Brown adoptees, we have such difficult lives. We are at the edges of so many things, including but not limited to our: countries, cultures, families, fathers, languages, homelands, and mothers, many (if not all) of which are at odds with us, and themselves (and each other). Being in community with each other as our full selves can be such an empowering act.

At the same time, the act of being, doing, and existing in a community can also be difficult. This is magnified by our lifetimes of isolation from each other. I offer my letter writing classes as an act of care for myself, and my community of Black and Brown adoptees.

I am on the heels of returning from the second annual BIPOC Adoptees Conference in Portland, OR. What an awesome, life-changing, and magical experience! I am taking my time to process, record, and reflect on my experiences, as I do.

I also attended the first annual conference last year, at which I was honored to host the opening night ceremony. Attending as a conference participant, without hosting duties, gave me the opportunity to experience just the act of being, doing, and existing in community. And, I absolutely loved it.

I use Black and Brown as synonymous with BIPOC. I also use the term “people of the global majority.” I used to use the term “people of color,” though I now prefer referring to my community as I feel we are: Black and Brown adoptees.

Love, Ryan <3

linktr.ee/ryanartes

Ongoing:

• Donate to Split This Rock, who published my poem on The Quarry, A Social Justice Poetry Database. Here is the full statement regarding the fate of the organization, which is so beloved to me. There are so many causes worthy of y/our support right now, and I hope supporting Split This Rock can move to the top of y/our list. <3

• I am teaching the third round of Letters to Our Homes, a generative letter writing workshop for Black and Brown adoptees. This is the first of a series of newsletters in which I will share history, information, and reviews about my upcoming class. See more information on the flyer and in the caption below. <3

• The next session of The Adoptee Open Mic is on Monday, September 1, 2025 at 7pm EST. I am taking the month of August off for an intentional vacation and time for rest. Sign up here to get access to the link to join. <3

• Please contribute to my GoFundMe campaign if you can afford to do so. I am closing my mutual aid campaign at the end of summer. I will write about the lessons I learned and offer gratitude to donors and organizers who supported me along the way in a future newsletter. <3