Friday, May 29, 2020

If I Had A Black Son

How would I feel if I had a black son? That was the question I asked myself two days ago. My honest answer was, I would be afraid for him out in the world because he is black.

It is not about black people vs. the police. I do not have to choose between #blacklivesmatter and #backtheblue, nor will I. I know and love too many on both sides. Good and evil exist in all colors, professions, religions, and cultures. It is about the racism that still exists in the minds and hearts of so many of us whether we are aware of it or not. Law enforcement families fear for their loved one's lives everyday just as black families fear for theirs. 

I watched a video of a women who frantically called the police from Central Park on a black man and stated she was, “going to tell them there is an African American man threatening [her] life," but he wasn't. It's sickening. I thought of centuries of black men being persecuted unjustly because a white women said some ignorant shit like that. Then there's the video of George Floyd being suffocated to death in the street by a white police officer. It all makes me so fucking sick. I'm angry. I'm sad. I'm mourning with my black friends and communities. I do see you. I see you all. I hear your voices, and your cries for help. I've watched your people die in broad daylight. I've watched too many white men, in our unspoken hierarchy, rise and stay at the top too easily and without merit, not to mention, get away with things most of us wouldn't. For example, two white men chasing down a black man and shooting him to death. 

I've been sitting here on this computer for over an hour trying to put into words all of what I am feeling right now. The events of this week were the last thing I thought about before falling asleep and the very first thing I thought about this morning. I just don't fucking get it. I don't understand why this is all still an issue, and why racist fucking assholes aren't punished for their shitty comments and actions. It's time we stop being numb to the little indicators of a racist mind.  There are so many things that just don’t make sense to me. I don't understand why a bunch of white men with automatic rifles can occupy a state building and not be told to leave. Sure, no one and nothing was hurt or destroyed, but the potential for a disaster was absolutely there. It easily could have become a massacre. I wondered if things would have been handled differently if they were black men, and I think the answer is yes. 

I'm just fucking sick of it. Nothing I do today, sitting in my white middle-class home in mid Michigan will change anything going on in Minnesota. There’s, honestly, not much I have control over outside of my own home at all. That’s why I don’t often post about sensitive/controversial topics on Facebook; I’ve never known anyone’s mind to change based on a social media argument or meme. I often feel helpless and afraid to do the wrong thing. I didn't even know white privilege was a thing until about six years ago, and then I struggled to understand what it was. I'm still learning where it exists and how it effects people's lives. There was a time when I would say I don't see color or feel proud that my daughter didn't appear to see color, but now, I'm thinking it's important that we do and be aware of how that persons experience could be different than ours because of that. I'm sure I have done and said things that have made my black friends roll their eyes. Maybe, I've even unknowingly offended them. Never, ever has that been my intention. I think some white people truly believe they aren't racist, but act on an unconscious bias fear that has been perpetuated for centuries, like with the woman in Central park, who, in an interview, after the fact, stated she was definitely not a racist. But is our job, as a white person,  to become aware and unpack these subconscious bias and be a true ally, if that is the case. The faces of  my black friends I have loved and enjoyed deep friendships with over the years roll through my mind. I think of their families and what it must be like to have a young black son and the conversations I've heard they must have with them. It breaks my heart. We, white people, have failed them. Us, quiet white ally's, have failed them. We need to get out of our own self and get over our own shit. People are dying. I'm sure I have missed opportunities to challenge questionable racist comments or actions in my life, but I don't want to do that anymore. I will keep my eyes and mind open. I will continue to teach my children about racism and how to recognize it. I will teach my children, to the best of my ability, about their privilege and how to use it to support those who weren't born with it.  Black people, I want you and your families to feel safe and equal. I want you to be successful. I want you to know, I am fighting for you.


"Racism is not getting worse, it's getting filmed." - Will Smith

Sunday, January 26, 2020

Yesterday Was the Day

Yesterday was 100 days.

I don’t know why I picked 100, and I don’t know why I’m sitting here with tears in my eyes. They are not from sadness. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen in these 100 days. I assumed there would be some nitty, gritty inner work, and there was. Emotions surfaced. Mental change surfaced. And I think there might have been a LITTLE weight-loss. I’m not 100% sure because I throw out my scale 😄.

There’s a re-figuring of who I am going on right now. I am not the same woman I was 100 days ago, but no one would see that yet. The last couple weeks have been filled with thoughts of utter gratitude, a deep, overwhelming gratitude for this life I have. It’s the life I’ve always wanted. I feel free - finally. I feel strong mentally. There is joy in my life. I’ve decided to switch careers and my goal is for us to pay cash for Sabrina’s NP school. I’m building a new wardrobe. I’m building a new me, the me I have always wanted. It has not been a perfect process - shame, worry, guilt - have all needed to be surrendered and my humanness embraced. I am not just a fat woman, and despite my previous fear, most people would agree. I was told in reiki I need to see it; I need to see myself thin. I’ve come a long way. These 100 days may not look much different on me to most, but I feel it - a deeper sense of commitment and clarity. A peaceful focus I’ve not had in years, if ever. There is a mental toughness I wasn’t sure existed, mostly grown from the introduction of stoicism.

Right now, at this moment. I haven’t worked out since Tuesday (it’s Sunday) I’ve logged all but one of my days and stuck to around 150g of carbs per day. (100g was encouraged by my doc). My podcast just talked about realistic goals - goals we are likely to do on a scale of at-least 8/10, ten being without a doubt. I am learning to balance these two; the attention to food detail and consistent fitness. And I’m going to do it, not because I want to lose weight necessarily, but because I want this to be so much a part of my life I don’t think twice about getting up and working out at 6am on a Tuesday, or passing on the majority of carbs at meal-times. I want this to just be part of what I do and who I am. I hope Josh, my coach, hangs with me. Fitness has replaced more than one unhealthy habit for me. This is for my mental health, whoever wrote that damn article was merely answering a quiet, late-night call from my soul. I think this last 100 days was for my mental health.

I am not ashamed anymore. I am a lucky gal. I consider my life a miraculous gift. So, here’s to podcasts, early-morning workouts, a good coach, and some willingness to do the work.

“You will not always be motivated, you must learn to be disciplined.”

With Grace & Gratitude...