it’s week eleven and although we are still following social distancing precautions, the main news is no longer Covid-19. The virus fears have been replaced by anger, sadness, and outrage due to the police murder of George Floyd.
I don’t know how anyone could watch that video and not be angry. What happened to George Floyd should never happen to anyone, and it has been happening time and time again to black Americans. Justice is decades overdue and this particular situation seems like it might finally be a turning point. Somehow the protests and the general energy seems different this time, like a wave turned into a tsunami. I head from a student in Brazil that they are experience a parallel situation, with many deaths and people standing up against hate.
I have to confess that as a white person, I’m not sure how to help. Of course, obvious things like speaking out when I see an injustice and supporting my friends who are affected. I love them and my heart hurts. I also am confused beyond that. I’m hearing some friends say that they want their white friends to speak out and others say that we should keep quiet out of respect. Both feelings are valid. My gut tells me to choose my moments of when to speak and focus on listening to black voices. Be supportive to their leadership. Help, not hinder.
On social media today, there was a trend to post a black page in support, and more important to stay off social media, to allow black voices to take center stage. I generally don’t participate in these types of things, but I felt that I should to show my friends that I support them. It felt so insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
I also feel incredibly naive, reading my friend’s posts and really listening to their pain, I’m realizing the extent, impact of not just blatant racism, but also micro-aggressions. I didn’t realize the profound fear and worry they experience. I never really thought about the privilege that I experience. I’m going to vow to listen more, learn more, and try to understand. Stop living in a bubble.
My heart hurts.
This is so much heavier than the corona virus.
We did have some beautiful things happen this week. We ran into our friends, Julie and Ryan, while buying furniture. They also moved here from Los Angeles, but we have not seen them since the virus. It was great to catch up in the store, all of us wearing our masks and no hugs.
We watched the shuttle launch and that was magnificent. Felix watched it with us and it was cool to be able to tell him that he has been to Kennedy Space Center, even if he doesn’t remember it. We need to go back.
The weather has been gloriously hot. We’ve been cycling every day and getting fit. We’ve had afternoon rain showers, giving us the most vibrant double- rainbow that stretched over our neighborhood.
Dan took this great shot; the fields are full of them!
I was thrilled that my micro-fiction story, “Pepper,” made it on the short-list for A3 Review’s May contest. You never know where inspiration is going to strike and this time, it was from meeting a broken robot named Pepper at the Waldorf Astoria in Las Vegas.
And my usual cute picture of Slinky and Tom. Cuddling the cats always helps when I don’t know what else to do.
