Day 128: Find a Way

July 19, 2020
Day 128

Good morning. Chalupa slept till 7:45am. Now, 45 minutes later, after peeing, breakfast, CBD oil, and some vigorous bone chewing, she is exhausted and ready for a nap.

I was glad for the extra bit of morning sleep today; at 1:00am I woke myself (and Mani) up with a muffled noise in my throat. In the dream that startled me awake, I was in bed in the middle of the night when I overheard an angry male voice in a nearby house. He was yelling at someone that they had eaten his pretzels, but I felt something dangerous was about to happen and called 911. I called twice. There was no answer either time.

Then I sensed a presence in the room and realized someone was there, approaching me. I tried to yell, "Who is there?" but was physically unable to speak or open my mouth at all, no matter how hard I tried. All I could make were these throat calls, which is the sound that woke me, my heart racing.

It took a moment to distinguish between the room in the dream and our actual room. I sat up in the dark, getting my bearings before telling Mani about the dream. I tried to fall back to sleep amidst thoughts of secret police and unmarked vans.

As tempted as I am to write that this is a frightening time in America, that this is a dangerous time in America, the truth won't let me leave it at that.

For while those statements are undeniably accurate and there is no question things are amping up, there is a bigger, deeper, older truth that we must not ignore: America has never been safe for Black and Indigenous people. America is often not a safe place to be a women or an LGBTQIA person. America is not safe if you are poor and don't have health insurance, if you're a single mom fleeing an abuser. America is not safe if you are an immigrant from a non-white-majority country. America is not safe if you are a refugee seeking haven. America is not safe if you are purged from the voter rolls or interrogated by neighbors when you are literally opening your own front door with your own damn key.

Who is left? America is safe for white, middle class, wealthy, Christian, cisgender, heterosexual male citizens. For everyone else, all bets are off.

White supremacy hurts most of us in different ways. Ibram X. Kendi has a passage in "How to Be an Antiracist" about this; I do not have a physical copy of the book but may need to get it so that I can go back and read it again. It is a crucial point of understanding.

I hesitate to share sometimes, not wanting to spread fear and anxiety on top of so much fear and anxiety. But more than that, I think it's crucial that we face this stuff directly and together. That we recognize how damaging this place is to our bodies, our psyches, our family systems, our schools, our communities.

In Chicago yesterday, police came to protect a statue of Christopher Columbus. They came to protect a hunk of bronze that represents colonization and genocide, while injuring dozens of flesh and blood humans who had been peacefully protesting and then attempting to take down said statue

This is a fight that has been going on in our country for centuries. It is not new. But its resurgence on this scale is, to me, a sign of promise -- that we will not abide, as Dan Rather wrote the other night. That we will not sit by while the curtain falls on the dream of democracy. That we will not be intimidated into silence. That we will not sit by while they come for our friends, our neighbors, our children, our colleagues, our cousins, our comrades -- until they come for us. No.

We all have privilege of some kind. Finding a way to put it to use is an imperative for anyone in this country who wishes to be on the right side of history. Find a way. And hold onto each other. No matter what.

I love us. Keep going.