I HAVE NO WORDS…

It’s Wednesday blog day and I am at a loss for words.  I started working on this blog post over the weekend, trying to decide what I was going to write, knowing it could lead to some hurt feelings, disappointment from friends, strained relationships, and battles that I may not be able to fight.

I figured if I started the post, I could go to it for a few days, updating, re-reading, editing, and making sure that I said just the right things.  I have re-written this post at least three times.  I have tried to reign myself in.  It hasn’t been easy.  It’s Wednesday now and so much has happened, even just last night, and I have basically given up the best way to share my feelings today.  I shouldn't have to say "just the right things" or "reign myself in."  But I don't want to rant.  Sigh....

So…it may sound random, it may be clear as mud, but it is my blog, my feelings, and if I hurt or offend anyone, I’m okay with that.  It should be hard to hear, hard to read.  The truth hurts.

For the last week, I have found myself obsessed with the news.  By obsessed I mean glued to the TV or radio, watching and listening in disbelief of what has been happening.  We have been “locked down” with the pandemic and now, we are fighting another battle, a racism battle.  While the pandemic had moments of bringing people together to stay healthy, this racial battle has become a fight that has been overwhelmingly sad, and really, kind of unbelievable.  Are we in the middle of 2020? 

A few years ago, I was accused of my “white privilege” talking.  This was a sting like I had not felt before.  I had always considered myself hardworking and certainly knew that I had been bullied or rejected because of my weight, but never because of my skin color.  I was offended.  I had always worked hard for what I had.  It hurt.  Those comments came from my only child, Katie, and that conversation changed the way I viewed my “white privilege.”  As a result, she had been raised in "white privilege."  The difference between the two of us was she acknowledged it and was working towards making changes.  I had not.    

As I have watched the horrific behavior of a man’s life literally snuffed out by a policeman, the story of a young woman shot to death by police as she lay in bed, the story of a man jogging and murdered by those who really just didn’t like his color, and just two nights ago, another man, part of a peaceful protest, after curfew, being shot…well, it’s been a lot to take in.

We all know that these have been crimes against black people and as a result, lots of anger and raw emotion.  I am a woman with “white privilege” and I’m struggling on how to help…what I can do to help change this world I’m in. 

I have seen multiple cities full of protesters facing police and National Guard.  I’ve witnessed on TV the outsiders who are inciting the violence, destroying businesses, large and small, in their communities.  I’ve seen debris thrown at police, cars and buses set on fire, and criminals running from retail stores with armloads of merchandise that they felt entitled to take.  I’ve seen elderly black women, begging the young people to stop the looting, worrying about where they will now shop.  I’ve seen policemen/women hugging protesters, taking a knee in solidarity.  I’ve seen people of all colors, wearing masks (or not) and gathering in large groups, carrying signs, chanting, “This is NOT a riot” or “No Justice, No Peace.” 

“Hands Up!  Don’t Shoot!”  I’ve listened to political leaders give their versions. I’ve listened to activists speak.  I’ve listened to newscasters.  Well, I think you get the point.

Then Monday night, near the White House, protesters (not looters) were forced to disperse prior to the curfew, shot by police with tear gas and rubber bullets. Military helicopters hovered overhead, close to the crowd, as a sign of force.  Shortly thereafter, the President walked to a church and raised a bible.  This was in the shadows of a major disruption of a protest that had not been violent and with force, they were scat.  To me, this appeared to be an order to clear the area for the President’s photo op.  UGH!  Okay, I said it.

This is the country that I love and embrace, but I’m sad.  I know I cannot go to any of the protests, to support the feelings that I have, because I am fearful of the violence that could ensue.  I am not in shape…If they shot tear gas at me, I’d be trampled to death because I cannot run. I’m afraid. 

However, I know I need to do something.  I reached out to my daughter, you know the one who reminded me of my “white privilege” and she responded with a 2-page email of things I could do!  (Be careful what you wish for!!)

She let me know there are MANY things I/we can do.  For one, we can LISTEN!  This is going to sound super simplistic, but instead of just letting someone say something that may be offensive, I need to speak up.  For example, someone I love made this comment after the Louisville shooting on Sunday night, “Well, he shouldn’t have been out there after curfew.”  WHAT?  The person who made this comment surely meant no ill intent, and because this person was older, and not able to truly carry on a true debate, I didn’t get into it, but I did say, “What? No one expects to be shot and killed, even if it was after curfew.”  Then I let it drop.  However, if it would have been one of you, I know I would have not backed down. 

Another friend, whom I love, made the comment about the “black thugs.”  Well, I responded that a comment like that is one of the reasons we are where we are.  Many of the looters I saw were white anarchists.  The looters are angry and looking to incite.  They are white and black.  They are wrong.  Period.

I’m going to listen and I’m going to respond…even if it hurts.  I won’t be hateful but I won’t sit back and let it roll off my back.

Another thing I am going to do try to better understand the reason for Black Lives Matter.  All Lives Matter.  This week I heard a minister say that answering to the protesters that say Black Lives Matter, with All Lives Matter, is not the answer at all.  ALL LIVES do MATTER.  Period.  However, if someone in our family is down, we all pitch in to bring him/her up.  My whole family matters, but sometimes, one member may need support more than the others so at the moment, that person does matter a little more.  I’d like to be able to say ALL LIVES MATTER and mean it.  All lives will not matter until Black Lives Matter.  Can you say, in all honesty, that you have ever felt like your life didn’t matter? 

Katie has encouraged me to begin working to be anti-racist. I have never considered myself racist, and I still do not, but on some levels, I do think I have been passively racist.  “The idea is that what we're doing now doesn't work and we have to actively be working at the opposite of racism: anti-racism. One of the easiest things to do is to start building your social media to be more than your own silo (aka following people who look different than you).”  (from Katie)

My social media consists of Facebook and Instagram.  So, I have added a couple of strong black people to my “friends” list (an actor and a news reporter). I plan to "like and share" things that I find important.  I’ll continue to look for some on my own but I’ll also look at her suggestions for me.  In addition, I will "like and share" helpful explanations from friends and family, hoping to get others to understand and in turn, maybe they will "like and share!"  Here is just one of the links to something that I found helpful.  https://www.facebook.com/actdottv/videos/2404667739755980/?t=1

This is just the tip of the iceberg and I know I have a long way to go.  Maybe some of you will roll your eyes, and some will think I’ve lost my marbles.  I can’t help that. Maybe some of you will take time to think about these words. But I do know that I can’t sit still anymore so I’m going to keep trying to become a better me.  What will you do to work towards making ALL LIVES MATTER?

*I promise this blog is not going to become an activist blog as I am not an activist.  However, it is a crazy time right now and my story seems slightly insignificant.  Next week, another Lisa story!