It’s been over a year since my last post.
At the time, I was infuriated by ‘grand wizard’ desantis’ hateful “don’t say gay” legislation. And as with many issues in the past, I felt that a voice needed to be put to that outrage to (hopefully) provide greater understanding, empathy, and maybe even a change in the actions and attitudes of those within my meager sphere of influence.
But, as far as I could tell, it changed nothing. AGAIN. And something snapped.
I began to write a few more pieces over the coming months that, to this day, remain unfinished. The subject matters of each were all topical and relevant. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling in the pit of my stomach that writing anything would make a GD difference.
It didn’t make a difference in the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder. It didn’t make a difference in the discussions of race I pursued at several points during the white supremacist trump presidency. It didn’t make a difference after multiple mass murders from semi-automatic weapons.
None of it seemed to make a difference.
None of the people who I’d hoped would read these entries seemed to have read them. Or if they had read them, simply didn’t care enough to at least dialogue. I’d hoped that maybe my words would be the mechanism that would change their current world view to one that supported tolerance, understanding, and empathy over the current paradigm of hate that has gripped my country.
And if that’s the case, why bother writing anything?
It’s at moments like this that I’m eternally grateful for the love and support of friends who have known me since grade school. I was talking with one such friend the other day and related my thoughts about not wanting to write anymore because I felt there’s no purpose or hope in doing so.
He reminded me that our people, African Americans, have found a way to find hope and survive since we were brought to this land. Through all of the horrors and suffering, we kept hope alive. If not for ourselves, at least for our children and future generations.
I am part of that lineage. My family has survived and thrived in an America that enslaved, beat, raped and murder us; then continued to subjugate and murder us long after our emancipation. If my ancestors could keep hope alive through all of that, I can keep hope alive at this tenuous moment in time for my country.
The writing continues…
Big facts!