So I'm going to end--
I thank you for your attention.
I am going to end with the piece that was the most difficult
to write.
It was the final piece in the book.
You know, like how do you end a book about a dynamic that is
part of our everyday dynamic?
And before I do that, though, I'm going to read you a quote.
I recommend this book by Jill Stauffer.
She has a book called Ethical Loneliness.
And in the book it says, "Ethical loneliness
is the isolation one feels when one as a violated person,
or as one member of a persecuted group,
has been abandoned by humanity, or by those who have power
over one's life possibilities."
Ethical loneliness.
I love that.
It's a good book.
You should read it.
So I was trying to figure out how to end Citizen.
I thought, I don't want to communicate something
that isn't true in the ending.
And the publisher kept saying to me, "We need the book.
Send us the completed book."
[LAUGHTER]
I know you need the book, but I can't figure it out.
And so one day, I--
it was a beautiful day.
I remember the day.
I had gone hiking.
And then when I got back, I had to go to the club.
It's just a fancy tomb.
Don't worry.
And I was sitting in my car waiting to go inside.
And this woman, this white woman, drives up to my car,
and she's driving and parking and not really looking around.
But then she turns the car off, and she looks up
and she sees me watching her.
You know?
Because I'm sitting there eating a banana--
[LAUGHTER]
--and watching her park.
Because I don't have to go into the club for another 10
minutes.
[LAUGHTER]
And she looks at me, and I look at her,
and then she turns the car around and backs up and drives
to the other side of the lot--
[LAUGHTER]
--and parked there.
And I thought, you know, that's what Citizen needs.
It needs me to ask her why she just did that.
So I jump out of my car.
[LAUGHTER]
And I start running towards her car.
But then, and God knows what she was thinking, right?
But then I realized, I forgot my racquet.
"I can hear the even breathing that
creates passages to dreams.
And yes, I want to interrupt to tell him/her,
us/you/me, I don't know how to end
what doesn't have an ending.
'Tell me a story,' he says, wrapping his arms around me.
Yesterday I began.
I was waiting in the car for time to pass.
A woman pulled in and started to park her car, facing mine.
Our eyes met and what a pass passed as quickly as a look
away.
She backed up and parked on the other side of the lot.
I could have followed her to worry my question,
but I had to go.
I was expected on court.
I grabbed my racquet.
The sunrise is slow and cloudy, dragging the light in,
but barely.
'Did you win,' he asked?
'It wasn't a match,' I say.
'It was a lesson.'"
Thank you very much.
[APPLAUSE]