A Pause

For the last week I’ve been awfully uncreative and as still as possible in my food.

As I review how my past actions, words, thoughts… might have, inadvertently, fuelled a broken and unjust system, all I can do from here is stop, listen and think. Pause.

As a woman, a very small part of this has a very faint whisper of resonance in me.

As a white person, in every other way, I am blind to the true struggle.

Full throttle is on, times are raw and rightfully charging forwards.

Whilst I know where I stand, I don’t know how to stand here; I have not figured out how to tread alongside the movement. Perhaps I’ll be damned by some if I do, and damned by others if I don’t. Perhaps I should not be standing at all, put charging forwards along with the uprising.

But this is not about me – about how a white woman feels and grapples with this revolution.

Although it is about me, and about how I interiorise the charging voices around me so that my actions and inactions never again contribute to a regression.

How daft that we live in a time where one needs to remind and/or be reminded that Black Lives Matter. How can we have gotten this far without truly interiorising this? How can it even be that it still needs to be said? And how is it that we still need to be explained in how many ways we, unawares, contribute to this broken system?

What can we do about it? Here might be a good place to start.

It’s high time this happened.

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