I’m back at my usual location and time at work. It’s another easy day but I’m anxious both about my classes next week and about the changes that are happening and the uncertainty beyond them. I had a plan for how to distribute my time and energy between work and outside of work but slowly my superiors are make changes and there is a steady increase of hours and responsibilities and it’s getting harder and harder to establish balance.
I’m also tense because of the continued protests. I support the protests of course and I even go so far as supporting the call to defund and disband police departments but I work in a place where opinions are very different and though I haven’t heard anything I have found offensive I spend much of the day bracing myself for the possibility.
On top of that I have my own anger, and grief, and guilt, and helplessness. I can’t unsee that video of George Floyd’s death, not that I want to. That video, though disturbing and distressing, made me aware of how little I have done for my part against police brutality and all the structural obstacles and bias that leads and feeds it. I can’t stop thinking about it.
Part of it is not knowing my own small place in all of this. I know what I believe but I don’t know what I can claim. I know the work is mine to do but I don’t know where to begin. I have so much I’d like to say but I feel reluctant to speak up in fear that my voice is not welcome. My own history around race is charged and confusing and even if I can’t affect change in others I feel more motivated than ever to at least unpack the way the racist history of this country has made its impact on me.
Perhaps that small contribution can be part of the collective healing too.