Where do I start?
Artist unknown, image source: BWNC
Where do I start? That’s all I can think about as I’m trying to sit and write and make sense of everything happening. What can I do? Anxiety, confusion, and then quickly followed by a pang of guilt. Why do I get to sit here, safe and comfortable, and write about racism, injustice, and inequity while it has been a dangerous lived reality every day for generations for Black Americans? Why aren’t I doing more? Is this writing actually a misguided example of performative allyship to cleanse my own conscience, gather kudos from others, and prove that I’m a “good person”? At some level, I’m sure it is.
I’ve been struggling with how to understand and untangle those selfish impulses, so that I can feel more confident that my actions are truly helpful and compassionate. I’ve seen too many examples of questionably intentioned social media posts, videos of...
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