After months of limiting my access to social media and the news for my own mental health, I have been scrolling social media so incessantly for three days now watching the newest political crisis unfold, that it made my wrist tendonitis act up.

I feel like I need to do something, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what my community needs, what I could ever say that would get through to the people that need to hear it most. I’m not sure the people I most want to reach will listen, because to them, I’m mostly just naive, a backslider, a sellout.

When I think of things I could say, a few things come to mind:

Maybe, “Even though you didn’t want to be complicit in white supremacy, the fact that it benefits you makes the nation’s attempts to eradicate it uncomfortable, even threatening to you. That’s okay and perfectly natural, so long as you see it for what it is and take practical steps to help dismantle that kind of social cancer, and make sure your fear and resentment aren’t stoked to terror and misdirected by questionable leadership (like, say, televangelists, Fox News, and Trump himself.)”

Maybe, “You heard him brag about sexually assaulting women, and you voted for him anyway. Twice. And you have the gall to make excuses for him, to complain about social justice movements to my face even while the escalation continues. If you think the implications shouldn’t mean anything to me, as a woman, you never had empathy for me in the first place.”

Maybe, “Fuck.”

That’s the one I really just want to say over and over again.

2 thoughts on “Words

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