Discernment
was the word I entered this year with. How am I doing?
Hiking up the grassy peak of Kenya’s Mount Satima last December, my friend R asked our group what our word of the year was for 2024, and what our word of the year would be for 2025. I waited for others to share theirs first — both because I needed time to think of mine, and because my lungs needed to cope with the unfamiliarly high altitude.
I landed on ‘embrace’ for 2024, and ‘discernment’ for 2025. I had done too much in 2024, I explained, said ‘yes’ to too many things. This year would be different. I would be firmer in my declinations, more attuned to my instincts.
Nearly a year later, I report back with mixed attempts and mixed feelings. Earlier this year, I was approached about a job opportunity that seemed a little too good to be true. I entertained the idea with a healthy dose of suspicion, having a few of those ‘intro chats’ that are all too common in the world of freelancing. It all felt off from the start: the communication I received felt chaotic, and the scope of the project raised more unanswered ambiguities than confirmed clarities.
I spent time putting together a feasible and realistic project proposal, only to hear nothing back. This is still the case, seven months later — such professional ghosting is unfortunately all too common in the media and creative industries. And even though I knew the whole situation was a little off, it’s looking back now with distance that I’m glad I had a go, otherwise I’d wonder what if. In some ways, the ghosting confirmed what I already knew: this was never going to work.
Discernment has also made me feel discomfort when trying to embody it. This past summer, a string of odd interactions in quick succession with men, both from my past and my present, left me feeling deeply unsettled. Given that words, communication, and attempts to articulate myself clearly dominate my professional life, my immediate instinct is to try to talk things out and get to the roots of an issue — even when it might sting me in the process.
However, in these circumstances, I unusually found myself with very little compulsion to respond. It wasn’t that I was avoiding the act of responding. It was more that I just didn’t feel particularly moved to do so, for maybe the first time that I can really remember. “I just don’t know what to say,” I told my therapist (yes, these interactions partially prompted a return to therapy — maybe I should send out an invoice for reimbursement). “Perhaps that’s because there’s nothing to say,” she replied gently. Perhaps not everything needs an answer, and knowing when things don’t is discernment.
In this context, the above thoughts from Little Simz resonated with me. She talks about the importance of saying no, slowing down and stepping back in our decision making. As well as a practice of discernment, it is also one of protection — of our present selves and our future selves. While it doesn’t always feel natural to me, in these instances I felt proud of saying no to engaging, to the urge to try and smooth things over, or to fix a problem that isn’t mine to solve.
“Coulda, woulda, shoulda,” so says Samantha Jones in the Sex and the City episode of the same name (featuring an iconic guest turn from Lucy Liu playing herself). Even writing this edition, I’ve used the phrase ‘should have’ in my look back upon the past. I don’t think the feeling of regret is ever a totally avoidable one — I definitely reflect on things I’ve done and sometimes think, “Hmm, that was not my best work.” But I do think that every decision we make has importance in shaping who we are, and I certainly don’t feel regretful about that.
What I’m learning is that discernment isn’t necessarily about making the ‘right’ decision, but perhaps how we reach those decisions. Perhaps this is what getting older and entering my ‘balance years’ is about, as Julia Samuel touched on in a recent edition of her newsletter. Perhaps discernment is a practice one has to develop, as my wise friend S says. I’m leaning into that a little more: deciding what is worthy of my attention, energy and time and what is not — and of course, what nights are ones not worthy of regret, but perhaps may have been better spent staying in.
Three Leaves
I don’t write about music often, but I am loving two new albums from two brunette divas: Lily Allen’s West End Girl, an intimate, confessional account of the breakdown of her marriage, and Rosalia’s LUX, a musical odyssey across and beyond genres. Elsewhere in culture I’ve consumed lately, I was rather moved by Jacob Elordi’s turn as the Creature in Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein. I wasn’t quite expecting this from him (I hated Priscilla and think Euphoria is blah), but found his portrayal of childlike innocence and purity to be very affecting.
On Friday at Genesis Cinema, my dear friend Yassmin Abdel-Magied hosted a fundraising screening of the moving documentary Sudan, Remember Us. It was an emotional evening, and I was glad to be in the room to feel that. All funds went to Sudan Solidarity Collective — please also read Yassmin’s latest Substack post and take a look at the Creatives4Sudan auction here.
This month marks 10 years since I first joined gal-dem as a volunteer when I was in my third year of university, two months after it launched in September 2015. Two weeks ago, I had a very gal-dem filled week — the Glamour UK Women of the Year Awards under Kemi Alemoru’s new leadership, publishing a new interview on fragments with Charlie Brinkhurst-Cuff and june bellebono, hosting Daisy Ifama for a guest lecture with third year BA Journalism students on my arts and culture module at City, and contributing to Varaidzo and India Chambers’ new literary journal, The Casual. These projects, alongside the many friendships and professional relationships I’ve made, remind me of the importance and longevity of gal-dem in ways that may not seem obvious. Amid the sadness of news like the gutting of Teen Vogue over in the US, I try to remember the indelible legacies of these publications and the people who were part of them.
I’m going to use my author’s privilege here actually and share a rare fourth leaf, in the resplendent golden colours of the ginkgo leaves and autumn foliage generally over the last few weeks. If you’ve got any similar photos, I’d love to see:
Updates from me
With the new academic year, a new year of my life, and generally feeling refreshed post-holiday, I wanted to develop a new website that reflects me and where I’m at in my career. Enter the amazing Mica from REAAL Studio (another gal-dem connection) who collaborated with me over the summer on my rebrand and website redesign. You’ll see Mica even managed to incorporate the ginkgo leaves in there:
The Nigerian Modernism exhibition over at the Tate Modern is really a standout autumn show. I wrote about it last month for CNN Style, and am looking forward to returning and spending more time with the work there on a hopefully quieter (!) day over the Christmas break.
New Tide Media Network was shortlisted for the Women in Journalism Georgina Henry Award — yay! We’re also hosting two upcoming events that you might consider joining us for: one about covering climate stories in East and Southeast Asia on 18 November (tonight), and an end of year social on 2 December.
40 years ago, Westminster City Council designated the area we know in London’s Soho today as the ‘official’ Chinatown. At Chinatown Collective, a group that I volunteer with, we’re kicking off a year-long festival to reflect on Chinatown’s past and imagine its future. More info here, and tickets to join a special 40th anniversary walking tour at the end of the month here.
I’ve been loving this academic year so far and am feeling super creatively energised at the moment. I passed my exam and am now an Associate Fellow of the Higher Education Academy (so that’s Suyin Haynes, AFHEA, to you — rolls right off the tongue I know). The students I teach on BA and MA Journalism are very inspiring, and are way smarter than I am.
I’m now in my second and final year of my MA in Southeast Asian Studies at SOAS, where I’ve been learning Chinese (passed the midterm test, wish me luck for the end-of-term one). And I’ve been continuing my work with the Voice of Domestic Workers on their Future Voices Revolution programme, which has been a really beautiful co-created project.
The combination of these projects though means that time to write Ginkgo Leaves has been tighter than I would like. I apologise for how sporadically timed the editions been, particularly to those of you who are paid subscribers — I am so grateful for your support of my work, even when it’s delivered haphazardly. As a thank you, I will be sharing some exciting news and thoughts with you in the next edition, related to my MA research.
Until then, take care and have a lovely rest of your week,
Suyin x
Gorgeous reflection, and thanks so much for the shoutout !! 💕💕