A Month of Reflection: Day Eight
This is the first one that, I don't want to write. I want go lie on my heating pad and pretend that life is different and people don't have to fight to live. Is that truly just a pipe dream?
I am going to step away a bit from my, not curated theme of this reflection series and I am just going to share about now and my thought and my feelings.
I cannot lie, my mind is somehow at the same time constantly running on overtime and at a standstill. I feel like we have entered a purgatory of our existence. Like now we must just wait.
I know that is not true, do not worry. I am doing the work.
It’s funny the synchronicities of life. Yesterday I wrote in my day seven essay about how my siblings and I were lucky to have grown up where we did in small town U.S.A., and that we have seemingly escaped the…blindness of others still trapped in those realities. The reality where the entire world is what is in front of you and the life you lived. I hope this doesn’t sound self righteous, I am simply a student who have been fortunate enough to have amazing teachers. The synchronicity is that later that night I was catching up with my childhood friend, Devan. Devan was the only black girl in my grade and one of very few in the whole district.
It’s funny, when Devan and I talk we really do not spend too much time reminiscing in the past. We do look back fondly, or cringe at certain blips of our lives as children, however when we talk, it’s about now. It’s about the future. Well last night, Devan and I had a conversation about philosophy and life and our values and morals. Something Devan shared with me was that she “woke up” while we were in school. I don’t think I would be far off in assuming a large part of her unveiling so young was her lived experience as a black woman in this world. I’ll double check that I am not speaking for her. In this conversation she shared a lot of her perspective of our time in high school and her observations about our classmates. Now again I don’t want to speak for her, she is an incredibly articulate person and I would never do that justice, but I just needed to credit her for inspiring me to look deeper in.
Dev and I were talking about a friend who was very close to us both. Who…somehow found the anti balance of love and hate, giving all the kindness to the world and unleashing the rage on herself. I was asking Devan if she thought this person had voted for Donald Trump. She said yes. No hesitation.
When I had briefly pondered this possibility earlier in the day, I was struggling to decide if she would and in the end I though “No, I know her, there is no way a person like her could vote against her own rights, or be ignorant enough to not see the wider impact of this”. I was wrong. Devan had insights on this persons behaviors and actions in the past align with who she is now. Highlighting the way she spoke to herself.
I left that conversation and the biggest lesson that I gathered from Devan was that: the patriarchy is so ingrained us that some do not see the ways we are programmed to hate ourselves. As I said before, Devan is a black woman, this realization also carried over to this: white supremacy is so ingrained in us that some are programmed to hate people of color.
The some are the unawake. The ones who don’t even know what they are missing.
Again, I am not trying to be high and mighty and say I am awake and I know everything. No, on the contrary I would like to say “I am awake and I know nothing”. I do have questions though.
I need to be brave enough to remember that is okay. I can ask questions.
After this conversation and after sitting and digesting it. I then meditated on it. Then slept on it. The slow way of living means really sitting with our thought, I hate it but I need it. I woke up this morning and added a book to my morning routine.
Doesn’t that title just make your skin crawl? I love it. Not in the, “I love white supremacy” way, but a “I love the discomfort because it means I am about grow” way. The author has warned me many times in the first 38 pages that I will in fact be uncomfortable, but I will grow. More over, what actually matters, is that it should help me…be better. Be a better friend to Devan. I want to know how to fight for my friends.
Maybe I am feeling a guilt because I have been sitting here thinking back on life, then having this conversation has brought up these feelings that I should have been better. But it’s true.
I don’t have any memory of every witnessing anything overtly and blatantly racist against Devan, at least not that she didn’t stand up for herself for. However, reflecting back, I wonder how many times she went home and thought about the way something was said. How many times did I not pick up on the micro-aggressions? How often was I giving micro-aggressions? Because I know I did. I know it was never my intention, but something else I have learned in the first 38 pages of this books that: I have to accept that I have been a part of the system, and I need to be honest about it.
We need to talk about it. Devan is a subscriber here, I think that’s why I feel comfortable sharing her part in these realizations I have made. I will also tell her next time we talk how grateful I am for her and the space she allows me to have these conversations. The patience she has always had to educate me, even though that is not her job at all.
But I wouldn’t be me without it. I am realizing that the people I grew up with…are small minded. I don’t want to say something aggressive like stupid or ignorant but small minded seems as kind as I can make the sentiment. That’s what it takes to exist in a world like this, a world with access to knowledge like we have, and not know that a vote for Donald Trump was a vote for women to lose their rights. Maybe not all women, maybe not everywhere. But some woman, some where is enough.
I think I am mostly just sad. I am grateful. I am grateful I have connections to humans like Devan, to more amazing people of color who allow me space in their light. I am grateful for my thirst of knowledge. I am grateful for my fearlessness when it comes to my dedication to chasing my curiosity. But I am sad. Sad that there are women out there who don’t see the truth. Who don’t see what this presidency means, not even the presidency. It’s the fact that this many people, voted this way, for this person. They just look away.
It’s the fact that people do not see the bigger fucking picture. All the connections. It isn’t just abortion. It’s about the rights of black and brown people. And the rights of the LGBTQIA+ communities. And the existence of our education and healthcare systems. And the children being killed in Gaza. And the fires in California. And the floods in the Sahara. It is all connected.
And America chose to look away from all of that. People I love chose to look away from all of that.
Because it is uncomfortable.
Thank you for reading and allowing me this space to share myself. I am very grateful for you and your existence. I hope you are reading this in safety and with love. I am attaching a couple of links below for you to look at while you are here. They are some ways to send an impact to the larger world. I urge you to then look into your local impacts. Most importantly though, your inner impacts.
GoFundMe for Fadi's Son's Medical Expenses
GoFundMe to Help Mohammad Save His Family
Operation Olive Branch One Click Email List
1-888-843-4564 — The Number for the LGBTQIA+ National Hotline