Hey everyone, I'm Amid al-Yukber and this is See Something Say Something.

That's right, we're back to our regularly scheduled programming after finishing up our miniseries with Brick TV.

If you haven't listened to M-Train, please go back and take a listen to it.

So about a month ago, I interviewed the Sudanese American poet Dahlia al-Hassan about Editha in our household.

At that time we were kind of a couple months into quarantine and that was definitely still a new experience.

Nobody had any idea how Eid would be celebrated.

For me, for example, we did it at home and today it continues where mosques are not necessarily open.

So our second Eid al-Adha will also be a very different one, kind of this new normal. I held on to that interview because of the killing of George Floyd and the protests that erupted, I decided to shift focuses on my episode. But it still feels relevant now, and I wanted to bring it back. Just keep in mind we're talking about Ed al-Fithar, not Edil Adha.

We talk about intergenerational families, anti-blackness,

and what it means to celebrate Eid under quarantine

a year after the violence of the Sudanese Revolution.

Nothing at all. So I'm joined by poet Dahlia al-Hassan.

She spent her Eid with her family in New York City,

and I wanted to call her up and talk to her about that experience. Hi, Dalia, Ed Mubarak. Hey, Ed Mubarak. I'm calling you on day two of Eid on Monday, at least for me, my Eid was Sunday. When was your Ead? My Eid was also Sunday. Both on day two of Eid. I know there was some confrontation this year about whether Eid was Saturday or Sunday.

We won't get into that.

Yeah.

You know, I could have joined the African delegation on Saturday, but my family insisted on

celebrating on Sunday because we weren't ready.

That's right.

There were some folks in East Africa who did see the moon, and there's a, if you use

like the internationalist viewing that

probably should mean that you celebrated Eid on Saturday. Yes. Very racist so that did not happen.

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