OYM Day 45–46: Missing
Well, it happened. I didn’t write yesterday. I laid in bed at 9pm and knew I still had to post, but I just couldn’t. There is so much going on right now that it is hard for me to think about an old memory or formulate a story. What’s happening in my old home and even my new home, as well as over 25 major cities around the US, is hard to imagine, enough.
Before this happened I wanted to write a brief essay on white guilt, because WHEW do I have a lot of it. But it’s not appropriate now. It’s not as important as talks about equality and the oppression of the black community. I want to hear their voices, not my own.
My anxiety is through the roof and all I wanted to do last night was fall asleep as soon as I put Vivian down. I told a friend this and she said that sounded about right…. That being unconscious is just about the only way to deal with the rotting larva in the White House and the endless videos streaming on Twitter.
But it’s easy for me to run away from it. That’s the privilege I have. But I know I can’t sleep forever. God, I could make so many references about America being asleep…
Of course I am donating, signing petitions, and having uncomfortable conversations with people. I wish I could go be a white shield at the protests, but I need to take care of my daughter. I don’t understand all the hate. Another friend told me to change laws, not hearts. And she’s right. It’s easier to change the law than a heart that’s been calloused for 35 years.
I guess I’m just trying to process everything and it’s taking up most of my mental space. I feel myself looking back on every memory where things would have been different if I were black. I worry about my black friends, especially when I see them down at the protests. But I know they worry everyday, even when the streets are clear. And I also worry about the cops that signed up to do a job they thought was one thing, but turned out to be another after they signed up.
I can hear my daughter calling for me from upstairs now. She’s just woken up. She wouldn’t understand any of this now. She can barely say banana. But she knows what love feels like and I’m going to give her as much of it as I can today.
