I Do Not Know
I used to say that “Silence is violence” with all the puffed up privilege of someone who felt safe enough to speak.
At a time when everyone is clamoring to be an expert, a historian, a war correspondent, or an authority on a situation they have seen through a screen, I can only tell you with certainty that there are many things I do not know.
Many, many things.
Although that never used to stop me from speaking.
I used to say that “Silence is violence” with all the puffed up privilege of someone who felt safe enough to speak.
I used to post the “right” quotes. Condemn those who were in the “wrong”. Position myself as the voice of reason because, of course, I knew so much more.
And then I came to live a little longer (the sheer privilege of that alone) and I came to understand that much of what I have learned has been passed to me through the selective process of a very specific lens.
There are huge parts of history that have been minimized, whitewashed, and, often, erased. There are huge amounts of trauma in bodies that have known more oppression than I ever will.
I can read the books. I can watch the videos. I can look at the images. But it will never, ever be the same experience as someone who is living the life I am witnessing. Someone who is trying to survive the terror I am dissecting. Someone who is hanging on by a gossamer thin thread in the very horror I am busy debating with a stranger on social media.
I do not know why we are demanding that celebrities, influencers, or the person our cousin went to school with post an update about what they are doing to prove they’re not looking away.
I do not know why we are arguing with people on apps instead of taking action within our communities and reaching out to loved ones in our circle who are struggling extra hard right now.
I do not know why we are canceling people who are continuing to share their lives/work online or making assumptions that they must be uncaring and narcissistic for posting about anything other than our burning, bleeding world when they are likely trying to sustain themselves in the ways they need to in order to stay afloat, mentally or financially.
I do not (always) know the best language to use.
I do not (ever) know if my words will cause offense.
I do not know if posting this is just adding to the noise, something I swore I wouldn’t do.
I do know that I will never be convinced that a question mark should hover over the life of any child because of where they were born, where they live now, who their parents are, what their ancestors did, what faith or religion they have been raised to believe in, or any other reason.
I do know that we cannot fully connect to our humanity while we intellectualize which person’s baby deserves to live.
How can that ever be ok? In what unfathomable, heartless world?
I will keep taking action. I will keep reaching out to people. I will keep doing what I can to be a human who helps others without asking them to prove why they’re worthy of their life.
I will keep trying to be better before I demand that you are.
Thank you for these words. My whole heart stretches more open as I read your words, as I struggle to find any of my own.
This. Thank you.