It’s impossible to not feel something watching the marches and protests that are continuing throughout the United States, Canada and around the world. Some of the feelings are difficult to name and sit with. As a white, middle class female I have lived a relatively privileged life. It’s difficult to face how insidious racism is in our society and accept how unconsciously I may have been contributing to it. George Floyd’s death has ripped open a scar that will never be the same. The bleeding may stop but the wound can either heal or the infection become worse. I am asking myself, how can I, right now, look deeply at any way I can add love and compassion to question long held beliefs so that I may contribute to healing.
When did we become our own worst enemy. Minnesota, land of 10,000 lakes - they're practically Canadian. A border and a name is not enough to claim we are any different. When did we buy into the lie our leaders would have us believe that they are looking out for our best interest. An egg placed in hot water becomes soft cooked after three minutes, hard boiled after twelve, after that shells may crack. Gunshot explosions when the pot boils dry have us diving for cover. Yolk sticks to the stipple like only something contained and under pressure, can. The world placed in a cell phone lens becomes agitated in eight seconds, the time it takes to form a first impression. After eight minutes and forty-six seconds it boils over, multiple "moments of truth" crack a two-hundred year old shell, a police car, a parking space, a man's face on the asphalt When did a plea for mercy become something to taunt, a knee on a neck, an eye turned away I have to remind myself to not look away, to feel the discomfort, to see the obstacles, see how we use our language, the toys we give our children, the messages in their spaces of learning, Barbie and Ken in their Malibu home, masculine control of naming and explaining. What can we learn from Black Americans, from people of color, how they inhabit their bodies how they live in the world. I have to remind myself to not look away. The message sticks like only something contained and under pressure, can.