"What'd you do last night?"
"Oh, I mutilated an innocent garden vegetable, ground up its insides then threw it into a hot oven to make a dessert for a yearly ritual feast."
Baking is so metal, guys.
While I'm waiting for my pie to finish baking, I thought it would be a good time to sit down and check in. I've been trying to get the momentum to start writing again, but truthfully, I've been so preoccupied that it hasn't even occurred to me. Writing, yes. That was a thing I used to do.
In light of the most recent current events, though, anything I have to say pales in comparison of the magnitude of what some people are experiencing right now. I don't have the words, nor do I have the appropriate lived experiences, to be able to express anything meaningful about what's going on right now. I could link to one of a never-ending parade of articles I've read that manage to nail down some perspective, but if I've seen them, I'm sure you have too. Follow the right people on Twitter, and you'll see them. It's easy to sit here, safe and sound in my cozy little apartment hundreds of miles away from the eye of the storm, and focus on literally anything else. I have that privilege. I have that luxury. I don't have to be afraid of the people sworn to protect me. I don't have to worry about being treated like a second-class citizen because of a random genetic lottery that gave me pale skin. And it sucks, it sucks so hard that there are people that do. People that live an entirely different life than anything I can fathom. And it doesn't occur to me, on a daily basis, that I am so incredibly lucky, because that's how privilege works. It's invisible to us because it's our normal. It's not right, but it's real, and it's been that way for... well, forever, really. It's uncomfortable to realize, and it should be. It should make us cringe. It's not a societal construct that we built for ourselves, but it's one we inherited. So what do we do about it? Well, right now, I'm going to do the best thing I can do: I'm going to shut the hell up, and I'm going to let the POC voices be heard instead. They are the ones that need to drive this narrative, not me, not most of us. It's not about me, and my opinion and empathy means precisely shit. I'm going to sit back and I'm going to listen, instead. And I'm going to hold onto that ever-idealistic, ever-optimistic part of my heart that believes that things can get better in our lifetime.
Anyway. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, I'm making a pie, and I will eat too
much food and try to stay out of the retail melee. I will sleep in if I
can, I will enjoy my day off of work, and I will go through my life like
I always have. I will acknowledge that I've got things pretty damn good. And I will be thankful that there are people out there who will fight for change, who also believe that things can get better. Not everyone is horrible, though it's easy to be discouraged when you constantly hear the loud shouting of the people who are. I will be thankful for the people who still give me hope for humanity.