Quiet.
I have been relatively quiet over the past couple of weeks. Not because I don’t have thoughts or feelings, but because I needed to go inside and really feel them before I was ready to say anything on the internet. I needed to be quiet and watch for a while. To reach out to my friends of color individually and check in on them. To see what people were saying and doing. To give space for voices of color to show me the way.
To my brothers and sisters of color; I have no real idea what this is like for you.
What I do know is that I have cried everyday watching your strength and grace. I have cried with every news story of the senseless taking of a life. I have felt the anger and the sadness, and I know, it must only be a fraction of the anger and sadness that you’ve been feeling for so long.This is my privilege.
Like so many other white people, I have long been aware of my privilege. It wasn’t until much later in my life though.
I think watching the video of the woman calling the cops on Christian Cooper in Central Park was a really big wakeup call for me.
She knew the same things I know. She just chose to weaponize it.
This time has been slowly teaching me a lesson.
You see- I am often the one to jump in and want to start something and make a difference. I’m not afraid to be the loudest voice in the room if I feel so convicted. This time has taught me that I don’t always have to be the loudest voice or the one with the ideas. That really, finding the people that are already doing the work and supporting them, can be just as powerful. By not watering down the message with one more voice making a small noise- but rather adding my voice to the collective and saying together “we want more”, “we want love”.
My inner mission could often be defined as “be the light” or “show up in love”. I realize now, that sometimes that means being a follower instead of a leader.
Sometimes (like now) that means, adding your voice to the collective.
Sometimes, that means being quiet, and letting the ones who have been working show us where to go.
I promise to keep using my voice of privilege to have the hard conversations. I promise not to back down around the dinner table at Thanksgiving, or “let this one slide” any longer. I promise to add my voice to the collective of amazing graceful and powerful humans who have been doing this work for so long.
And when I don’t know what to do, or what to say, I promise not to water down the collective with my unknowing noise.
I promise to show up in love. To try my best to “be the light”.
