I'm not over the call for a beloved community
Reading the article, The Incident You Have To See To Understand Why Students Wanted Mizzou's President To Go by Tyler Kingkade posted at HuffPostCollege, you will find that during this protest which interrupted the homecoming parade, the driver of the vehicle trying to move the car around the protesters, clipped one protesting grad student. Other reports say that the driver revved the engine several times. And folks shouted at the protesters, formed a line to protect and provide way for the car where the university president sat, while others physically assaulted the student group with pushes and shoves. Spoiler alert: The president apologized (a week later) for ignoring them, the violence against them and his driver's actions. Understandably, that apology was and is insufficient.
I read somewhere that you know you are over something when you can talk about it without tears.
I realize I'm not over the #festivaloflights #blacklivesmatter #bmwprivilege incident, because it arises again and again for others. Just like this. My doctor might call that something, I know it as #ptsdforreal and an anxiety attack, because I know how much worse it could have been. (I am also quite often reminded by my foot that it wasn't a walk in the park, either.) I shake with thoughts that cast a cloud and make me so afraid. And I have to write, or laugh with the boys, or ask for a little understanding and sometimes I get it.
The tears may pause... but I won't be over it until we are over it. Because I want a better today for my kids.
And over it cannot mean go home and be silent. It means having people join arms to protect the people who have very real grievances, and letting them be heard. That part, happened for a few minutes on the streets of Riverside last year. When I think it through and remember that part, it was enough of a glimpse of what is possible to sustain the continued attacks and injustice. I remember that #peaceispossible and #sometimesyouwin.
And then...
... misunderstanding and intolerance bubbles up somewhere else. And I find myself in tears and sometimes very fearful of what people can do to those they don't agree with. I find myself sad, immensely sad, at the sometimes blind, sometimes willful, ignorance that perpetuates intolerance and outright violence against people who speak up.
Don't be over it either.
And please, don't be the one who pushes and shoves to watch a parade so you can ignore the lives of your neighbors who are subjected to pain and humiliation from strangers (and a country) on a nearly constant basis. Don't wish they would just do it in a nice way when they find the courage to speak out for themselves and others and ask, publicly, vocally, for good people like you to hear them. And, most of all, don't pretend that it's all good when it is not all good for all. #worktodo
#wecandobetter #belovedcommunity #truthandreconciliation#sometimesIwrite #sometimesithelps #socialchange #mizzou
I read somewhere that you know you are over something when you can talk about it without tears.
I realize I'm not over the #festivaloflights #blacklivesmatter #bmwprivilege incident, because it arises again and again for others. Just like this. My doctor might call that something, I know it as #ptsdforreal and an anxiety attack, because I know how much worse it could have been. (I am also quite often reminded by my foot that it wasn't a walk in the park, either.) I shake with thoughts that cast a cloud and make me so afraid. And I have to write, or laugh with the boys, or ask for a little understanding and sometimes I get it.
The tears may pause... but I won't be over it until we are over it. Because I want a better today for my kids.
And over it cannot mean go home and be silent. It means having people join arms to protect the people who have very real grievances, and letting them be heard. That part, happened for a few minutes on the streets of Riverside last year. When I think it through and remember that part, it was enough of a glimpse of what is possible to sustain the continued attacks and injustice. I remember that #peaceispossible and #sometimesyouwin.
And then...
... misunderstanding and intolerance bubbles up somewhere else. And I find myself in tears and sometimes very fearful of what people can do to those they don't agree with. I find myself sad, immensely sad, at the sometimes blind, sometimes willful, ignorance that perpetuates intolerance and outright violence against people who speak up.
Don't be over it either.
And please, don't be the one who pushes and shoves to watch a parade so you can ignore the lives of your neighbors who are subjected to pain and humiliation from strangers (and a country) on a nearly constant basis. Don't wish they would just do it in a nice way when they find the courage to speak out for themselves and others and ask, publicly, vocally, for good people like you to hear them. And, most of all, don't pretend that it's all good when it is not all good for all. #worktodo
#wecandobetter #belovedcommunity #truthandreconciliation#sometimesIwrite #sometimesithelps #socialchange #mizzou
Footnote:
But, I'm thankful, because I had a chance to write this out this morning in some strange NaNoWriMo possibility. And, peeking out of only one eye, I looked up the case number RIPD#14184445 at the Riverside Municipal Access website. Last week, a jury trial date was set.
No doubt, Darren Enscoe believes he was right to push and shove his BMW through a crowd of protesters (knock women down, break a rib or two, run over a foot) and is confident that a jury of his peers will believe so too. I mean, this is what they had to say:
And, after all, the trial is only about one misdemeanor count. And, I don't even know if that's about me. #andthebeatgoeson
But, I'm thankful, because I had a chance to write this out this morning in some strange NaNoWriMo possibility. And, peeking out of only one eye, I looked up the case number RIPD#14184445 at the Riverside Municipal Access website. Last week, a jury trial date was set.
No doubt, Darren Enscoe believes he was right to push and shove his BMW through a crowd of protesters (knock women down, break a rib or two, run over a foot) and is confident that a jury of his peers will believe so too. I mean, this is what they had to say:
And, after all, the trial is only about one misdemeanor count. And, I don't even know if that's about me. #andthebeatgoeson
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