Time to Check In

I guess it is time to stop avoiding the task at hand and check in.  I have been avoiding the task because it has been emotionally overwhelming.  Maybe because I was expecting a plague to hit 2020, but when COVID 19 hit, it did not shake me much.  To be quite honest, I was relieved to shelter in place and not have to deal with people on my job, day in and day out.  I was content to stay in my bubble of positivity, and grateful to have time to get crystal clear on my brand and execute on the things I had not.  My heart went out to the people that were suffering and dying from COVID 19.  I prayed for them constantly.  I prayed for the world, my friends, my family.  But I was insulated by peace, optimism, and expectation.  My outlook and mood were not disturbed much.  In fact, I felt more prayerful, confident, and closer to God than I had in an awfully long time.

Then May 26th, 2020 hit, and my house of cards came crashing down.  What I witnessed on that day blew through my walls of optimism and expectation.  On that day, I, and the world, witnessed a man literally lose his life right in front of our eyes.  I literally could see his soul leave his body with each passing minute as his face grew darker and darker.  Had I tried to treat what I was witnessing with the same regard as I had COVID 19, his cry for his mama ensured that would not be the case.  In that moment, my heart broke.  I am tearing up now as I type this.  I think it cut so deep, not only because I had been steeling myself from the havoc COVID 19 was wrecking on our community, but for the same reason I cried uncontrollable tears watching Ava DuVernay’s, When They See Us.  In both cases, I witnessed the gentle spirit of men being squeezed and pushed to a brink they were not prepared for and did not deserve.  No one deserves to be killed by the police just because they can be.  No one deserves to be thrown in jail because the police have conspired to plant a crime on them.  And no one deserves to suffer from a painful respiratory virus because they are subjected to inadequate food and health care.  These are blatant and egregious manifestations of racism.  That in and of itself is enough to outrage anyone.  But for me, there is something about seeing people suffer who are genuinely trying to do the right thing, and who may not have the intellectual capacity to make wiser, more sophisticated decisions that truly breaks my heart.  I hate to see vulnerable and defenseless people suffer.  People who should be protected.  Particularly, when I can see the spirit of God resonating from them.  My heart simply cannot handle it.  I am once again crying typing this.

I was angry after I saw that video.  Angry at white people and angry at Asian people.  If dealing with white supremacy and prejudiced and racist white people was not enough, now we had to deal with other ethnic groups adopting the same ideology and behavior.  It made me livid.  I demanded that a reckoning occur.  I demanded that God bring justice.  His children could not continue to die in the streets like this, crying out for their mama, their pleas falling on deaf and unrepenting ears.  I wondered what the hell was wrong with white people that they could continuously sit by and let their community continuously carry out these damning and terrorizing atrocities.  Since the death of Trayvon Martin, I have been looking for them to say something!

To my surprise they did.  I saw so many white people speaking up and expressing disgust, sorrow, and astonishment.  I was even more surprised when I saw them making a commitment to learn and educate themselves on what they had been ignorantly complicit in.  While it surprised me, it also checked me.  It made me question my own attitudes and opinions about them.  Living in the south for 10 years (and moving there when Barack Obama first ran for Office) shaped some strong and unsavory opinions in me about white people.  At best, I was unsure about them and did not trust them.  But seeing them stand in solidarity with us moved me.  It made me rethink what I was willing to accept as truth about them.  And it made me want to dig deeper into the history of race and race relations in this country.  It made me want to dig into the politics of being black in this country.

While I was witnessing and feeling all of this on the heels of the protests and riots, I also witnessed some things on social media that did not sit quite right in my spirit.  Things that I did not want to be complicit in.  (And let me just say this is no shade to anyone at all.  I am just expressing myself, checking in and letting you know where I have been.)  After the first blackout Tuesday I noticed a lot of black influencers on Instagram shouting out other black influencers.  Calling on brands and people to support them.  While I am sure it was innocent enough, and perhaps necessary, it just did not sit right in my spirit.  Now, let me back up and say: while I was happy to see white people speaking up, at times I felt annoyed with the ones who seemed to only be following the trend.  Speaking out but their words still reinforced white supremacist thinking.  Only following the trend so they would not be perceived as racist and could position themselves as “the right ones”.  The ones to work with.  To keep following.  To not call out.  So, when I started to see more and more black influencers shouting each other out, shouting themselves out, it all just started to seem performative to me, like a “bag grab”.  And I did not want to participate in virtue signaling- or even trying to position myself to (individually) “come up” off the death of George Floyd and the civil unrest that followed.

When the protests broke out after George’s death, I immediately recognized we were living inside a revolution.  I saw (and see) that we finally have an opportunity to demand and bring about impactful change (that can reposition the entire community and render George’s death not in vain).  The stage is set exactly right for us to secure a win in the first battle in this War for Justice.  COVID 19 has everyone paying attention, George Floyd’s death has followed Breonna Taylor’s and Ahmaud Arbary’s (and countless others), and we are coming up on a Presidential election.  This is a pivotal moment.  So, I took a breath.  And held it.  And have been holding it for the past 30 days.

I honestly could not in good faith and conscious continue on social media as if it were back to business on the ‘Gram.  Out of respect for the possible sensitivities of my followers, I did not want to constantly post about what I have been consuming for the past 30 days- the protests and the politics.  And because I challenged myself to relearn and rethink my views, I was not about to take to social media and spout out things from emotions.  Due to the precariousness of the moment, I decided to close my mouth, open my ears, mind, and heart, and seek understanding.

So, that is why I have been quiet.  I am still here.  I am still working.  I have just taken time to rethink and regroup.  Now that I have, I have gotten specific about where and how I am focusing my attention, and ultimately the things I want to share on this blog.  Instead of learning about random things pertaining to black history and black politics in a hodge podge way, I’m zeroing in on the history and politics of American Descendant of Slaves, and what I think we need to be made whole as a group, and to be recognized politically.  I have determined that I want to advocate for ADOS.  In my view, they are the least of these that the Bible refers to.  I am only in the learning and gathering phase right now, but I am grateful to have this realization.  And I look forward to seeing where God takes it.