Three of the contacts in my phone are dead but I can’t bring myself to delete them. Do others in my culture have a hard time with this? I still love these people and wonder if we’re all like sound waves, the hum of us slowly fading until our last friend or family member is, themselves, extinguished.

There’s so much my culture doesn’t speak of. I’ve recently discovered Chimamanda Adichie’s, Americanah. A roller-coaster of reader emotions: something opening; confusion; a faint understanding. There’s an unsettling notion that I just haven’t been listening because the hum of it is so far from my ears.

Find this book. Turn down the media. Listen closely.