Keep Humanity in the Loop in 2026

“We need so much less than we take. We owe so much more than we give.”—From “Homesick: A Plea for our Planet” in You Better Be Lightning by Andrea Gibson

I did not know anything about Andrea Gibson when news of their death broke in July 2025. A poet, Gibson had lived a life that inspired others, using words to draw out emotion and connection across several themes. But something changed after Gibson’s diagnosis of ovarian cancer. “Their writing,” as Gibson’s friend Amber Tamblyn described “moved beyond protesting the injustices of the world in binary political terms of right and left as they began to explore the problem of our shared inhumanity. Andrea could see what so many could not: that we are more fractured than ever, and that the only salve might be to lean into what sometimes feels impossible—to love and appreciate each other in spite of our differences.”

Tamblyn’s piece came out in October, around when I started thinking about how I wanted to reflect on 2025, and those particular words took root in my heart. I asked myself, how could I turn this piece from a lament to a balm, particularly when it had been, in so many respects, a terrible year.

A group of people are gathered with the Washington Monument in the background.
In the fall of 2025 a group of people gathered for a teach in hosted Nate DiMeo (The Memory Palace) and Jody Avrigan (This Day). I attended the middle of the day session and found connection and conversation (along with lessons learned) through the presentations.

Maybe, it is best to start by being honest.

Every single day of 2025, I worked to put one foot in front of the other while letting the steadiness of my heartbeat keep me grounded. By holding onto these constant physical reminders—proof of life so to speak— I comforted myself that I was healthy and living with a measure of personal stability.

However, even within that amorphous sense of safety, it was impossible to feel truly secure when faced with the pain of others, especially when everything felt (and still feels) in a state of cognitive dissonance. I tried to remember my intentions—focusing on perspective and perception—written in those last days before the grotesque funhouse mirror we call our country came into focus. I examined how I spent the next 340ish days struggling to hold onto that perspective, trying to trust my perception of events as they unfolded, even as others found ways to rationalize the choices of the corrupt and powerful.

A sunrise over a beach with weaves coming in.
In February 2025, my entire family went on a trip to Cancun, where we had the opportunity to connect with one another.

To survive, I sought ways to step back from the firehose of news and focus in on what I could do as a historian, a woman, and a human being. I protested, I traveled, I wrote poetry (not every day as I intended but when my heart ached and my body sought an outlet). I sat in community with my friends and family, and I witnessed. I attended a teach-in. I looked for places to gather, to not feel so alone—allowing myself to feel this unyielding grief that has no remove; while not letting it overwhelm me. And when it did, I acknowledge, I sat myself in front of the television to escape, ceding sleep to stories that made me feel when the world was inciting me to numbness.

I allowed myself the grace of joy when it came my way, and accepted laughter as it stumbled towards me. And above all else I tried to center my humanity, and to acknowledge the humanity in others. Because that is one thing we are on the precipice of losing.

Words on a cement block calling for resistance
Every few days new words of protest popped up on my daily walks. Here is one of them.

A little while after reading the piece on Gibson, I traveled to Oklahoma City for the launch of another huge professional project focused on Route 66. The event was at the National Cowboy Heritage and Western Museum, and as I meandered through the galleries I found myself arrested by a circular painting by Erin Shaw, a Chickasaw-Chocktaw self-described “artist of the borderlands, the spaces between worlds.” The painting, called Everything Belongs, is luminous. Against a background of blues and greens are a field of stories in the shape of individualized structures, animals, and symbols. It felt, almost like a yearning dreamscape, a call for imagination, a hoped for reality. One where we are all connected, and we all belong. And yet…

A circular painting with a blue background filled with symbolic and other imagery.
A painting by Erin Shaw, a Chickasaw-Choctaw artist based out of Oklahoma.

There is a phrase in the business of Artificial Intelligence (like so many I have been forced to learn more, and adopt this technology) about how it is a tool and that all must remember to “keep humans in the loop.” It is meant to be a reminder that as good as the tech can get, from an ethical standpoint human beings must be part of the system to ensure it is without error. The jargon says it is a moral checks and balances (though, what happens when the humans in the loop are agents of chaos? But I digress).

Consequently, in 2026 my intention is to keep humanity in the loop. It is a tiny difference, but it is one that asks us to remember that each one of us deserves to live a life free from pain, from hunger, from terror, and trauma. That everyone deserves a world in which we can thrive, and to not be afraid to move against the violence that is spreading unchecked across our country (and the world)—even as reality pushes the narrative that gleeful cruelty looks to be winning the day.

It must not be the case.
It cannot be the case.

As a historian, I believe fundamentally in the long arc of justice, know that change moves at the speed of generations, and that progress may no longer happen in my lifetime. But we cannot stand still, we must be the agents for humanity. We must be the force for good, so that our voices rise higher than those that seek to shut it down.  

There simply is no other choice.

A detail view of branches of a tree outlined with different colored lights.
A detail view of one of the light up displays at the San Francisco Botanical Gardens annual Lightscape event. I was drawn to this image of multi-colored lights highlighting the natural shape of wintering branches.

In Case of Fire, Break Glass

I have ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, two ears,
one mouth, one nose. I am, I am, I am,
Human.

And you? You have ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, two ears,
one mouth, one nose. You are, you are, you are,
Human.

And them? They have ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, two ears,
one mouth, one nose. They are, they are, they are,
Human.

But through the looking glass, a distorted mirror. Translating
avarice and greed and making others into monsters. Cracks:
Where 7 years of bad luck has captured souls, creating fractures.

But believe this: We are more than our appendages.
We are a head. We are a heart. We are a part of
humanity.

Another option:  

In case of fire, break glass.
I lift the hammer.

My Twenty Twenty-Five

Here is a look at all that I read, watched, experienced in 2025. For reasons I describe above, I wrote nothing for myself this year, so as a result my full thoughts on some things are taking up valuable real estate in my head. As a writer that is uncomfortable, so I’ll work on that.

A woman looks like she is batteling a giant Octopus.
At the entrance to a young vistior exhibition at Pointe-à-Callière in Montreal is a giant Octopus. Here I had a little fun holding it off from escaping.

2025 Book Census

In 2025, I read a total of 120 books for a total of 23,930 pages and 613.4 hours. Considering my television consumption, this is a solid number. Even though the total is down from last year, seven percent of these titles were over 500 pages long. Like those books, this analysis fails at brevity (ha!)

A snapshot of different book covers
A selection of my books from 2025.
  • Of those books I read 15% nonfiction and 85% fiction. Of those 21% were print, 38% were digital with 42% audio. There was a slight uptick in both print and audio this year.
  • My audio book adventure (for the most part) fell in both the romance and mystery genres with a sprinkling of fantasy. The highlights included two nonfiction titles: All the Beauty in the World about the Met and The Bookshop: A History of the American Bookstore. The first was read by the author which made it feel extra personal. In terms of fiction, I appreciated the narration for both the second Radiant Emperor Duology book He Who Drowned the World and final two Between the Earth and Sky books Fevered Star and Mirrored Heavens.
  • My main book categories this year were Historical (37), Romance (30), Mystery (27), Fantasy (23), and Literary (18). A few shout outs here: North Woods; for history/old house nerds, the now completed Lost Bride Trilogy from Nora Roberts was solid; at the end of the year I listened to How to Solve Your Own Murder which, as mysteries go kept me intrigued enough to listen to book 2 right away; and one of my most careful reads was Greek Lessons which required slow absorption into the language of Nobel and Booker Prize winner Han Kang.
A bar graph listing different book genres with mutli-colored horizontal bars.
A view of my 2025 book genres from Storygraph.
  • I struggled with focus this year—not only because of the aforementioned chaos, but also because I was pushing through Brandon Sanderson’s Wind and Truth, which took me a year to read. From January 20th to about May 1st I read about 5 books a month (which for someone who manages to do about 10-15/month this was a shocking statistic to see).
  • Where Wind and Truth by Brandon Sanderson took me a year to finish. Ed Yong’s An Immense World took me nearly 3 years. I checked it out no less than 16 times. It is an incredibly dense book about sense and sensory perception. I loved it but it did not feel like something I could rush through.
  • Of the 120 books I had about 54 new authors (shout out to Camille T. Dungy’s Soil) with 50 titles being a part of a series (I recommend the Elly Griffiths Ruth Galloway series). I re-read 12 titles mostly because I wanted a refresher before the next book in the series came out.
  • Book highlight of the year? Meeting Shannon Chakraborty in person. Very exciting. No pictures were taken because I felt awkward, but it happened!
Graph of books read versus pages read
A snapshot view of 2025 focusing on the number of books read v. pages read via Storygraph.

Top 10ish Books – in no order.

  1. Shubeik Lubeik by Deena Mohamed: a graphic novel about wishes coming to life in Cairo. Beautifully illustrated with a story that is part magic, part about human survival.  
  2. You Better Be Lightning by Andrea Gibson: Of the two poetry compilations by Gibson that I read this year, this one had poems that were like magic. So much so that I was flagged for excessive highlighting.
  3. The Barn by Wright Thompson and Trees by Percival Everett: One of the pieces I never wrote (but hope to) this year was about these two very different books (along with Monument Lab’s recent Bulletin) that reflect on aspects of Emmett Till’s brutal murder.  Where The Barn goes deep on the geography (both physical, historical, and cultural) of the place where Till died, Percival Everett’s Trees is a fictional imagining of retribution that crosses genres (also a difficult read, but worth it). 
  4. The Isle in the Silver Sea by Tasha Suri: I read this near the end of 2025 and it is a fairytale, romance, and a mystery all at once. Suri’s prose is lovely and as always effortlessly magical.
  5. Back After This by Linda Holmes: As a big Holmes fan, having her latest book set in D.C. (showcasing how much she appreciates the city) and it not be about politics was a delight. It’s a romance about finding love unexpectedly while also figuring out who you want to be.
  6. The Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak: Like many of the books on this list I picked this up for a book club. It’s a story set in Cyprus, whose history I wasn’t super familiar with, in the 1970s. What makes this unique is that the narrator is a tree. Trust me, it works.
  7. Human Nature by Kate Marvel: This was a nonfiction book I put on my list while waiting in line for a book signing at the National Book Festival. Marvel walks us through the climate crisis using emotion as a framing method. It is one of those books that is funny even when it is terrifying.
  8. Code Dependent: Living in the Shadow of AI by Madhumita Murgia: chronicles the human impact of AI. Each chapter looks at a different group of people—from gig workers to those involved in healthcare. I’ve been trying to learn about AI, even as I struggle to find an optimal use for it. Like pandora’s box it is out and our lives are not going to be the same as the technology (specifically generative AI) is pushed into our daily lives.
  9. I, Medusa by Ayana Gray: I love these mythology retellings. In this novel Ayana Gray explores the life of one of the Gorgon sisters, a figure often treated like a monster. As with most retellings this one reflects real-world issues, in this case centering around Medusa’s hair prior to her transformation – where her beautiful locs are a central part of the narrative.
  10. Marsha by Tourmaline : The minute I heard about this biography about Marsha P. Johnson I knew I wanted to read it. In spite of knowing her role in the Stonewall Uprising, I hadn’t spent time really learning about Johnson’s life before and after the uprising. I am better for it.
  11. Orbital by Samantha Harvey: I read this at the start of the year, and is, in some way the fictional book end to Human Nature. It’s a story of astronauts on the international space station looking down on Earth. Filled with reflection it follows the crew over 1 day as they watch 16 sunrises and sunsets. Like Small Things Like These last year, it is poetry in prose.
  12. The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers: One of the most ambitious book club books, I chose to listen to this story (though by the end I also checked out the book so I could read along). It’s a multi-generational story centered around a specific family, and it delivers in every way possible – from love to heartbreak, generational trauma to reconciliation, and connection, I am so glad I took the time to read it.

Music

In 2025, I attended 9 concerts staged at vastly different spaces that ranged from a tiny movie theatre to a massive, chaotic, football stadium. Each, in their own way brough me a sense of connection that I craved while also using the venues and multi-media experiences to enhance the performances. I listened to most of these artists on a loop depending on my mood.

A woman on a screen is in a dress lit up in gold holding a microphone, next to it is another screen with a slightly wider view of the dress and the stage lighting up together while in the bottom right you can see the woman herself.
Beyonce performs “Daughters” at Northwest Stadium in July 2025.

Concerts: Beheld, Yasmin Williams, Rhiannon Giddens, Beyonce, Cynthia Erivo, Chapell Roan, Black Violin, Rachael Yamagata (watch a clip from the concert), Jon Batiste (the video below is 14 incredible minutes from the Anthem show).

Two notes on music:

  1. While I hope to write more about this eventually, I want to give Jon Batiste’s concert a shout out. Designed to be like a religious revival (where the religion was love) Batiste and his band brought it. From second-lining through the audience (and later outside on the streets of the Wharf) to his incredible musicality I felt transformed.
  2. The origin story about this is in the television section, but it is important to note that I fell in love with Rachael Yamagata’s voice this year. I was lucky, because this love coincided with the release of her first album in about a decade, and right when her tour was about to begin.

Here are my top songs from 2025—including some Korean songs which were earworms I couldn’t get out of my head during my K-drama watch this year.

Theatre

This was a short and sweet theatre year. Because a lot of my money went to concerts, I did not see much beyond my typical STC subscription. However, here are a few highlights:

A view down a series of white triangles which are a part of a museum in Milwaukee.
View of some interior shapes inside the Quadracci Pavilion at the Milwaukee Museum of Art.

Frankenstein: This production played with perception. We were taken forward and backwards in time, and each transition happened in a blink of an eye. It was an intense production, one that won’t leave me anytime soon.

Maybe Happy Ending: Everyone said I would love it and I did. While not particularly surprising story wise (and that’s ok!) it serves as a reflection or a rumination on what makes us human (and not). Plus, the music is great.

  • Shakespeare Theatre Company: Guys and Dolls, The Wild Duck, Merry Wives, Frankenstein, Uncle Vanya, Kunene and the King
  • Broadway: Oh, Mary!, Maybe Happy Ending
  • Folger: A Room in the Castle
  • Signature: Play On
  • Arena Stage: A Wrinkle in Time, Fake it Until You Make It

Exhibits

A view of the top part of a sculpture which is in the form of the top of a owman's torso. Reflected in the glass case are white marble sculptures of varying forms.
Adapted from the exhibit label: A torso woven with paper strips in a traditional Cherokee Water pattern. The printed paper includes statistics of Missing and Murdered indigenous People. Reflected in the case are the reflection of two marble statues. The front reflections are “Hagar in the Wilderness” by Edomonia Lewis while the back reflections are of “The Greek Slave” by Hiram Powers.

My museum going habits this year were not extensive, but what I did see were important reminders of what we will lose if only one story is allowed to be told. I hope to write more about some of these this year, but for now:

  • Amy Sherald: American Sublime (Whitney Museum, New York City): Before this show, I had only seen Sherald’s work in the form of the portrait of Michelle Obama. It’s a beautiful portrait but Sherald’s talent is hard to understand through a singluar piece. Now at the Baltimore Museum of Art, American Sublime is about texture, detail, and as Sherald said, “American Sublime is a salve. It’s a call to remember our shared humanity and an insistence on being seen.”
    If you have a chance to see this in person, get as close to the art as possible to see the detail, then take ten step back for a different perspective.
  • We Gather at the Edge: Contemporary Quilts by Black Women Artists, Curated by Aleia Brown (Renwick Museum, Washington, D.C.). This collection of 33 quilts from artist and collector Carolyn Mazloomi, founder of the Women of Color Quilters Network, was one of my favorites this year. Not only does it highlighted how textiles, stories, and acts of resistance can come together, but also because Brown as curator (and someone I know and respect) showed how art and history go hand in hand. Her curator statement begins, “Here we are, gathered at the edge, shaping life from fiber and loam,” and ends “we make quilts that serve as itinerant historical markers honoring and documenting the impulse to seek freedom.”
A painting of a man with a bowler hat with a small sailboat floating just above his palm. He is wearing a vest with a red tie.
One of the portraits featured in Amy Sherald’s exhibition The American Sublime at the Whitney Museum in New York City. Photo taken in 2025.
  • The Shape of Power (Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington D.C.): This show was remarkable. I need to do a post about this that stands a lone, but I wanted to emphasize how, on theme for the year, I had the opportunity to attend a workshop by Monument Lab that changed the way I looked at some of the pieces—using a variety of tools to shift perspective and perceptions. Every piece highlighted in this collection and how they played against each other, underscored the way in which we see, understand, and treat each other is rooted in perceptions and visualizations around race.
  • Witches: Out of the Shadows (Pointe-à-Callière, Montreal) and Indigenous Voices of Today (McCord Stewart Museum, Montral): I was in Montreal for the National Council on Public History Conference last spring and was able to do a little bit of sightseeing. Both exhibitions are about perspective, the first showing the throughline between the way witches were historically treated and percieved, and how they are represented today, while the second drove home the essential point that Indigenous communities in Canada are living communities, impacted by the past. Both were fantastic.
  • A Union of Hope: 1869 (Tenement Museum, New York City): If you are ever in New York City, take this particular tour at TM which tells the story of Rachel and Joseph Moore, a Black family in New York City. In addition to sharing how the tour came about (an important backstory), the excellent tour guide we had did a great job walking us through the practice of historical research and knowledge collection. As we learned about the Moore’s we also learned about the process of research and public history, highlighting the ways in which historians pieced together the Moore’s past (and what was missing.)
A view of a statue at an exhibition called "The Shape of Power" through a kalidescope lens.
The Shape of Power was at the Smithsonian American Art Museum. This view of one of the sculptures was from a workshop with Monument Lab that challenged us to consider perspective using a variety of different tools.

Television

A confession, I watched 62 K-Dramas in 2025. In late January, I found myself needing a distraction, a means of forcing myself to put my phone down and turn off my brain. The result was looking for subtitled television and compelling storytelling.  I watched love stories, fantastical stories, historical stories, and time-travel stories. I watched political dramas, and thrillers, hospital dramas, and stories of friendship. All for a measure of necessary solace, and so I am thankful to all that fed this beast (the Alisons) that I am now trying to get under control.


In addition to the many K-Drama’s, I watched some great English language television. Below is a loose list, including one cancelled show that I will never forgive Amazon for abandoning.

K-Drama’s: Aside from Crash Landing on You which seems to be many people’s entry point to this genre, there are a few different shows that stuck with me throughout the year. While not on the main list I do want to give both One Spring Night and Something in the Rain a shout out because they are the reason I am now a Rachael Yamagata fan. I watched both shows a moment when I needed some forced emoting, and it is Yamagata’s music, used at specific points in the narratives, that gave me permission and space to cry when I had been holding things in.

Almost all of these are on Netflix because I need to set some boundaries.

Check out:

  • Alchemy of Souls (incredible fantasy)
  • Romance is a Bonus Book (love)
  • Rookie Historian Goo Hae-ryung (historical where historians are the heroes! A screen shot is above)
  • Castaway Diva (great soundtrack)
  • Bon Appetite, Your Majesty (time travel historical fiction with ridiculous food imagery)
  • Study Group (a little violent, but satisfying, this is on Viki)
  • Business Proposal (romance)
  • King the Land (romance)
  • Hospital Playlist+ (medical drama)

Other show notes:

  • Farewell Wheel of Time. You were on the cusp of being incredible. Seeing the Battle of Two Rivers and meeting Faile will hold a special place in my heart.
  • The Murderbot adaptation was great. No notes.
  • If there ever was a show written for the world in which we live now, Andor is it. Beautifully told, difficult as it was to tell. It successfully met the challenge of building out a story where the audience already knows the ending. The screenshot above gave me chills.
  • Severance. When many of the shows we get today are adaptations, how can you not love this bananas original show. Unpredictable yet deeply fascinating. I will admit to not knowing what is happening half the time but am so glad it exists.  
  • The Way Home (which I may have mentioned last year). Yes, this is on Hallmark, yes, it is about a magical time traveling pond, but sometimes gifts come from the most unlikely places.

Movies

My movie watching has suffered the last few years. However, the single best decision I made in 2025 was seeing Sinners on the big screen. Visually its spectacular but the sound (and music) are incredible.

One of the garden walls at a historic house in California shows a balnce of trees and ivy growing along the brick wall creating a feeling of serenity.
A view of one of the garden walls at Filoli in Woodside, California.

In no particular order, here are the movies I loved this year.

  • The Wedding Banquet: A quiet film, that made me want to revisit the original, but I appreciated the updated focus on ideas around found family.
  • Jurassic World: I know this was not universally adored but this version, out of all the many sequels we have gotten, really captured what I loved about the first film. A commitment to wonder, incredible music, and a conversation about science and ethics. Not to mention a solid cast.
  • Sing Sing: Coleman Domingo is incredible. A story about a theatre troupe inside prison (based on a true story) it was another film that focused on humanity in a place designed to punish and strip people of that sense of identity.
  • Sinners: I went into this thinking, I am not into horror. I left thinking it was a piece of art. One that combined history in all its forms to tell the story.
  • Wicked: For Good: For second act that is notoriously tough to pull off I walked out of this satisfied—maybe because I can never not hear For Good and not cry. But Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande’s harmonies are magical, and I am so glad we had the opportunity to hear them sing together.
  • K-Pop Demon Hunters: Do I really need to explain why this is amazing? From the music to the story, this is the movie we all did not know we needed. It is not something that will fix the world, but it was both light and air in a year that felt suffocating.

Writing

I only wrote for work in 2025 (frustratingly so). But my big  success story was another Google Arts & Culture hub focusing on Route 66. I am so incredibly proud of my work on this project, and am especially glad to have gained an appreciation for the people and places that make up this unique part of the United States.

A cluster of purple flowers against a vibrant green landscape inside a dome.Some illuminated giant lotus flowers on a ond with vibrant blue lights.
Left image is from the Mitchell Park Domes in Milwaukee. Right is a view of some illuminated lotus flowers during the Lightscapes event at the San Francisco Botanical Garden.
A round pastry with a round tomato on a circular gray plate.
A tomato tart from Radio Bakery in Brooklyn, New York. One of the best things I ate this year.