I Am Safe

In this last week, the world has become completely activated by yet another Black life being taken by a police officer. I've been watching and listening, but ultimately I've been numbed into silence and frozen into inaction. Well that's what it’s felt like. I did my due social diligence by sharing resources on Instagram, and in the past I've bought, read, and shared books by Black people - black women, black non-binary people, and black men. I shared the words of black people to my mostly white friends. I listened. And the knot of discomfort has continued.

That knot is an underlying feeling of guilt. We're old friends and I recognised him immediately. Now I know a fling with guilt is not helpful for sustainable change so I invited guilt in for a few days, made him up a bed on the sofa, and we've had a few chats - well, confessionals. 

The confessions were multi-layered and I'm glad of having time and space to bring them to the surface, accept the true parts, consider the nuance, and sit with them. What a privilege! And the overarching theme of this guilt hit me today - I am safe. Yet more privilege. That being said, safe doesn't feel like the right word because nothing is truly safe and everything has risk. So I suppose you could say I have felt guilty because I have the option, for the most part, to avoid risk. 

To some degree I've done this to avoid exponential risk to my housemates, colleagues, and the clients I will see at work on the one day a month when I support essential programming. I guess I'm also avoiding risk to my newly found budget, avoiding risk of arrest by not attending a protest, and avoiding the risk to me of contracting Covid-19.

Spelling it out in this way is certainly helpful because so many people just don't have the privilege of avoiding some or any of that risk. And while I've spent the last little while working really hard to step out of situations that feel harmful, I think it's time to take some risks and step up for my fellow humans. 

So this is my commitment to actively listen, to reflect on my learnings, to watch a little less TV and read more about what it's like for other people, for black people. I'm committing to share what I learn, to sit in discomfort. To insist on better. 

Don't cry for me Argentina, but if my thought process can help you with yours as well then that's a bonus win.