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I always saw that I had privilege. I always saw that black people, their neighborhoods were different than mine. I had been taught to be afraid of those neighborhoods and those people. Not just from my family, but from everyone around me. We were taught to be scared, to not trust ourselves from the time we are born. I remember a man who worked for my dad who was so nice to us when we were really little, like three or four. I didn’t think anything about it and probably gushed about him later when I was told that he was black and that made him a lesser person. I remember wondering why this went against what I felt, but I let it go against what I felt.
I wonder too about other countries and if all of them “worked hard” to get where they are on the backs of slaves or prisoners. To me that is the worst! Thinking, I did all this and knowing it was at the expense of those too weak to cry out. I see the Chinese, Indian, etc, and now can say without any denial, that the US is just as guilty. It’s heartbreaking.
My biggest take away is to challenge people to watch this. I feel like it’s so important. And if you don’t have a bad taste in your mouth from your oblivious complicity, you may just be dead inside. I feel like it has strengthened my resolve to do whatever it takes to make the United States a better place, where all people are free and have a voice. Because I have kids, because I care. Because deep down inside I have always wanted people to be happy.
I have always loved people. I think women are that way. But we serve it up in sex and in providing for our families without serving it up to the world. That’s why so few of us run for office or fight to have the salary. We are satisfied that we made the most important people happy. It’s not good enough for me. I know those important people are happy, but I make people happy for me, too, and there’s more to it for me.
OK, self aware rant done for today.
It’s official, all the Hillary Haters were duped. By Russia. Because it fit their narrative. What they wanted to believe. They are no longer bound by reason. Sold a line of goods they would gladly buy again. These are our neighbors. True Believers.
They are the perfect, imperfect protagonist. They are the Operative in Serenity. Believers until too late, until countless lives are sacrificed, until they push the heroes to do fantastic and superhuman things.
They accept no reasoning. They believe no facts. They have been largely ignored because of that. Then they all got together. And voted. Fucking A. How does this end? Does the life need sacrificing? Isn’t education enough? I don’t know. Their misbelief has held them securely. How long will it hold them? If and when they come to the truth, who will have paid the price?
The first day was fuzzy, like you couldn’t wake up. You stretched, but your eyes were still heavy, and your stretch just made you more comfortable in your sleep.
The second day, you burst forth, in a panic! Your eyes ripped open, hurtling the sleep away, and you were alert and anticipating the next.
The third day was a bevy of activity, moving the rocks from this pile to the next. You did this with gusto.
The fourth day, you looked around as you moved the rocks. You moved more slowly. You noticed flowers, bees, the sweet smell of grass on the wind.
The fifth day, you stopped carrying rocks, you just wondered at everything around you. You noticed the color yellow. You noticed the softness of wind on your skin. You noticed the crunch of twigs under your feet and the lace pattern of the sun though the leaves as you walked under a canopy of trees. You noticed the birds singing high-pitched and repetitive and you wanted to talk back to them.
On the sixth day, lightning struck you over and over until you picked up a rock. And moved it.
On the seventh day, you stayed in bed.
My daughter and I are reading Gail Carriger’s Finishing School Series and it’s inspiring! See?