facing fragility

and finding resilience

Discrimination is such a nuanced beast. A powerful shapeshifter.

So often it looks like normalcy to the person breathing more of it into the world.

I remember wanting to go to a protest after Eric Garner was strangled to death by a police officer for selling cigarettes on a street corner.

When I pulled up the event page to find out where the march was meeting, there was a heated argument going down in the comment section between protestors of colors and white allies. Black and brown protestors were asking white attendees not to join in on the chant “Hands Up, Don’t Shoot.” Organizers explained that white people were not being disproportionately shot and killed by state employees at the rate citizens of color were. White protestors were frustrated and confused, wasn’t it better if more voices participated rather than less? why are we getting sidetracked by this? we’re showing up, aren’t we?!

I felt the same frustration. If you aren’t going to accept my help and you’re going to make me wrong for even trying then I just won’t go! I simmered defiantly.

And I didn’t.

For days afterwards, it ate away at me . A worm had nibbled it’s way inside my brain. I couldn’t stop going over it in my head, having imaginary arguments with myself and the other faceless commenters.