I know that #blacklivesmatter and I feel like I'm not pulling my weight and I'm sorry

I understand ‪#‎blacklivesmatter‬ as much as I think anyone with the amount of privilege someone like me has. I really understand it and have never questioned its validity, importance, and, unfortunately, its necessity. That said, I can't watch this stuff. Videos in my feed. Articles. It makes me literally feel sick to my stomach. I made the mistake of watching the execution of Nicholas Berg (the contractor who was killed on video shortly after 9/11 - I can't even bring myself to say or write the word that describes the manner in which he was killed). That was stupid of me. I had no idea how horrific it would be. I thought it would be horrific but it was qualitatively and exponentially more horrific than I could've ever imagined. I had nightmares and flashbacks for quite some time. Then I accidentally watched the video of the young man who was killed a year or two ago. I can't remember his name but he was the 2nd man in Ferguson. I tried googling just now to try and find his name and there were so many video links, so many articles, SO MANY NAMES, that I had to give up. I didn't want to click on any of them. I accidentally saw that video thinking it was an amateur documentary. I continued to think/hope that until the moment the gunfire started. That was also horrific. Watching anyone take anyone else's life feels so unnatural to me, like cannibalism and incest. I screamed so long and hard, a blood-curdling scream that made my husband come running in from the garage to see what was the matter. I sobbed hard, to the point that I couldn't talk, for five minutes? Ten minutes? I don't know. What I do know is that I can't handle this hate, what these killings represent, knowing it is just the tip of the conscious or unconscious iceberg. I have the similar feeling about Trump supporters, knowing that he has significant support, knowing they are walking among us, not knowing who they are, but knowing what they stand for. I can't imagine living my life with this kind of fear and distrust. The closest I get to it is the feeling of being a woman in an unsafe situation but, at least for me, those occur so much less frequently as I've gotten older. In fact, I almost never even felt that while I was working in prison. Ha. Talk about privilege. In hindsight, that was so silly, the inappropriate confidence I had. The fear only ever broke through when I had to walk across one small section of the yard which was out of sight of the gun tower. Every time I did that (several times a day), I would look over my shoulder, take a deep breath, and book it until I got out of the blind spot. I can't begin to imagine feeling that every day. I really can't imagine letting my kids out of my sight knowing that they do or, even worse SHOULD feel that every day.

Anyway, I just can't see this anymore. I do what I can in my own little world. I am vocal (duh), or at least I try to be. I feel like that's the best I can offer. But this trauma... I can't do it. I feel like I'm shirking my responsibility in the situation because so many people live it and I only have to see it but... I can't do it. This is all just so heartbreaking. :-(

 This is a long and rambling post but I feel like I'm bursting with all of this. I hope I have the guts to leave it up because I feel like such a jerk for not being able to handle it, feeling like that makes me part of the problem. *This* is the best I can do today in order to try to be part of the solution and it is pathetic at best and I'm sorry.

Love & Hate, from the mouth of my particular babe

I was reading the front page of the newspaper, an article about yesterday's long-overdue decision to afford all people the rights that up until now only some people enjoyed.  Then I flipped to page three and saw the article about Reverend Clementa Pinckney's funeral.  It showed a photo of our President leading the mourners/ celebrators of life in what was perhaps the most moving rendition, objectively, of Amazing Grace.  I was so struck by the juxtaposition, the love and hate.  So struck.  I was completely overwhelmed by the hate that led to the need for yesterday's SCOTUS decision, the love that led to the decision happening, the hate of racism, and the strength of faith.  I was close to sobbing.  My 8 year-old daughter ("C") came over and asked why I was crying.  I cried harder and tried to choke out and gesture that I was fine but I needed a moment to gather myself.  The idea of having to explain to my child how we, as people, can hate so much that it leads to the need to celebrate the giving of long-overdue equality to one group of people and to the need to mourn the deaths of members of another group of people.  How do I explain such a thing?  It is so senseless that it's hard to find words that would make sense to an innocent.  This was how the conversation went:

Me:  You know how a lot of times men love women and women love men but sometimes men love men and women love women?

C: Yes? (she's still concerned that I'm crying)

Me:  Well, up until yesterday it was not legal for men to marry men and women to marry women.  Only men and women could get married to each other.

C:  *furrows brow*  Wait... What's so wrong with a man marrying a man or a woman marrying a woman?

Me:  *practically sobbing*  Nothing.  But some people thing that God doesn't like it (this is where it gets a bit harder to explain, for me, as we are not at all religious - thank the universe that my kids went to a Christian preschool* and know about God).

C:  *furrows brow deeper* Why would God have a problem with two people loving each other even if they are two men or two women?

Me:  I don't know.  I don't think He does.  That's why it is so sad that there had to be a big deal and a law to treat everyone equally.  It's sad that that even needs to happen.  And then on the other page is a story about some people who were black and they were at their church and a man who hates black people went in and killed them all.  This is a picture of the funeral and of our President singing a song. (I dug up the video online).  It is so sad that there is so much hate and that there is so much hate because of love, all sorts of love.

C:  Why do people hate other people like that?

Me:  There has been a very long history of people hating people, just because they're different than than themselves.

C:  Well, I don't like Star Wars (she happened to be fiddling with a lightsaber) but I don't care if other people do.

Me:  *finally, some laughter through tears* Exactly.

C:  And black people are only different from white people because of the color of their skin and because people treat them worse.



Oh.My.God Universe.  This may be the most poignant/sad/true/wise statement ever uttered by any child.  And she is my empathetic, insightful, ridiculously emotionally intelligent child.  My heart swells with pride and actual hope that our next generation may make bigger strides towards eliminating the ugliness that we see today.  I choose to believe that.  I choose to ignore the fact that elsewhere are children being raised by people who are as entrenched in their hateful beliefs as I am in my belief in equality.  I cannot bear the idea that there may be other, very different, conversations going on in other homes across the country.  I must carry on as I am, teaching my children and my students, in ways that promote love and kindness.  While I very much appreciate those who do more, this is all I can do in my little corner of the world so I will continue to do that.

* Regarding the Christian preschool.  One day my then 3 year-old son came out of school and as I buckled him into the car seat, he said, "Did you know that Mrs. Smith has a friend named Jesus?"  I asked, "Oh, yeah?  What else did she tell you about her friend?"  He said, "She has long hair.  That's all."  Kids are great.