Black Lives Matter

Like many of you, I am heartbroken at the murder of George Floyd last week. Like many of you, I feel a sense of outrage at the inevitability and impotence at my own ability to change the system.

I don't have any answers, but I can tell you what I'm doing.

I'm being mostly quiet on social media. I'm listening to what the Black accounts I follow are saying, but I don't think my voice has anything to lend right now. There is always a feeling in much of social media that it's an exercise in performative self-labeling, and I can't shake the feeling that me posting about racism is trying to shine a light on me rather than where it should be shining. (I have been reposting helpful information put out by Black voices, like this list of Black-owned bookstores -- here's another list of Black-owned bookstores -- and the newly formed Black Owned Maine website.) 

(Yes, I realize there's some irony in talking HERE about what I'm doing. But it is quieter and less attention-grabbing somehow to tell you in my newsletter. Look, there's no perfect way to do this.)

I have donated money to Black Lives Matter, the Black Mamas Matter Alliance, the Black Visions Collective, bail funds for protesters, and the ACLU, for starters.

I am reading. I got How to Be An Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi and This Book is Anti-Racist by Tiffany Jewell and Aurelia Durand. I've ordered Me and White Supremacy by Layla Saad, and Stamped by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi. I talk a lot about how if you want to be a writer, you have to do the work. You have to sit down and write. No one else can do it for you. If you're white like me, it's on you to do the work to learn everything you can. It's on you to read and learn. Don't expect your Black friends to explain it to you. That's not their job. (I know all those books are backordered right now. Just order them from a Black-owned bookstore, or your local indie at least, and wait.)

I will admit I'm feeling conflicted about how to respond. Like I said, I'm being pretty quiet on social media right now, but part of that is that social media is causing me anxiety. I see the anger and outrage as well as, like, normal reportings of the news, and I absorb it, and it's distressing. At the same time, I recognize the extreme privilege I have in my ability to turn off social media, to turn off the thing that's causing me anxiety. I do think it's my civic duty to know what's happening, to not look away. But I also have to preserve my mental health so I can keep moving forward. I feel guilty just writing that down, though.

So I do check in with social media, but don't spend too long there. 

All I know is this: my purpose here on earth is to spread joy, and that can happen in a lot of ways. It happens when Dave and I raise our kids to be thoughtful humans, so we have been talking to them, a lot, about the news. It happens when I honor my need for mental health, so I avoid social media if that's going to put me into a state where I'll be no help to anyone. It happens if I can help other people by donating money when I can. It happens when I write. 

I know it's a particular view of mine, to imagine that I live in this happiness aura, and the bigger that joy aura is, the more I can positively influence the world. In times like this, it's hard to know what to do. Some days I pull my circle in tighter and tighter until it's only the people in my house, and I show them love and talk to them about the world and that's such a small thing but maybe it's something.

I'm thinking about this article from the NY Times this morning about "blackout Tuesday," and knowing more and more that the important work is probably still trying to do the right thing, inside of me and outside where I can, without announcing it publicly. (YES, AGAIN, I KNOW THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING NOW. I'm telling you my thoughts and then I'm going to shut up about it.)

And also? If you're one of the many people who receive this who are creative people, writers and artists, please do your best to keep making your art. I know it's hard. But you'll feel better when you put your emotion on the page, and I think the work you make will be raw and honest, and if you do get a chance to put it out there, it will help other people who are feeling the same way.

P.S. If your reaction to hearing "Black Lives Matter" is "all lives matter!" I urge you to read "Why You Need to Stop Saying All Lives Matter" by Rachel Cargle, or if even that's too much for you (which, uh, it shouldn't be: do the work), look at this very straightforward example from Instagram account @blessthemessy: