It takes a lot to shut me up. Yet now, in the midst of what feels like an apocalypse, I am lost for words. Nothing feels adequate. It matters what we say right now. And how we say it. And who hears us say it. And when it is said. And where it is said. It matters more now than ever, for I believe, we have arrived at the most significant crossroads of modern time.
I have felt a bit numb and dumb the past few days, a sentiment some of you may share. I know I have a job to do - we all do. And I also know that I’m unsure what that looks like for me. I don’t know how to get involved, or to whom I can direct my questions without sounding ignorant. I want whatever my next move is to mean something. To be supportive. Because I haven’t done enough.
Although this movement towards resistance and change appears to be growing louder, the hard truth is that it has always been this loud. We are just hearing it differently this time. Or maybe we're really listening for the first time. The current circumstances of our world are echoing the cries. We are swimming in the cries. No, that’s not right. We are drowning in them. And when you are drowning, you have to make a choice: You can give in and die, or you can breathe and swim. NOW IS THE TIME TO BREATHE AND SWIM. NOW IS THE TIME.
The best I can do in this moment, as I sit here hiding behind a keyboard, thinking and typing, erasing and trying again, is to say: Join me. Join me in the unknown. Admit that you have no idea what to say or do. Agree that you can do better. Commit to affecting change. And allow yourself to say simply: I stand with you, my black sisters and brothers. Your lives matter. You are loved. Your struggle is validated. I stand with you. And for you, I will breathe and swim. Now is the time.
