I am feeling fierce today.
Yesterday, I gathered with people of color at EBMC to mourn and grieve and share about the impact of the various forms of oppression that affect our various peoples. It was healing to be able to be in community about what for many of us is often a very private despair.
Then, I went home and found what I hope were creative and constructive ways to channel my rage and my anguish. I wrote and I read and I shared and I discussed and I wrote, some more, my heart pounding in my chest. I have been so impressed by the (especially Black) writers and journalists who are writing about the day after day racial violence that is taking place in this country, while, no doubt, managing their own anger, grief, pain, frustration, and fear. I wanted to join them in solidarity and add my voice to the chorus.
I didn’t account for how empowering it is just to speak my truth about what is so often unspoken, to name what is too often omitted, to resist silence and complicity. Whether or not anything ever changes because people listen to what I say or read what I write – *I* change because I speak it. I change because I write it. I feel stronger for offering what resistance I can. I allow the rage to flow out of me as offerings of truth and resistance. It leaves in its place strength, determination, and vitality.
I go forth into my life, turning my attention to enjoying and celebrating my glorious black life, in honor of all of those who have lost their own black lives or who have lost the glory of their own black lives due to imprisonment. I know that tomorrow, it could be me in the headlines. It could be me killed by the police or by a white supremacist vigilante. This is not happening somewhere else. I know that tomorrow, it could be me.
Best to enjoy this life while I can.
#TomorrowItCouldBeMe #BlackLivesMatter #BlackSpring