The Loudest Silence

I can't identify my feelings. Why am I always aching to identify? To classify? To understand? To define?

Recently, chaos has erupted in a more vivid light. Injustice has taken the ropes and we are left baffled by the corruption. What is it? Racism? Classism? Police brutality? A corrupt political system? Power system? Capitalism? Sexism? Everywhere. Ferguson, Baltimore... this is just the start.

Catatonic creatures seeking justice, equality.

"We are a culture that refuses to dance," - woman on the dance floor.

"Yo, let's dance!" - I'm probing.
Will we make changes?
Can we rise up? Take the reigns?

I feel lost, unsure of my place within the unrest, injustice, anger.

Rekia Boyd was shot by a police officer in Chicago in 2012, and the officer was acquitted of the manslaughter of this unarmed woman. On the day that the hearing was released, about a dozen women were gathered at 30th Street Station. As I pulled up to the light, I was stopped by the immensely powerful sensation that overcame me. There are no words for the emotion, the power of their presence in that moment. I felt helpless, remain to feel helpless. Paralyzed by this justified anger, this demand for change. How? As a white woman, what do I do? I stand by you, I support you. How?

"We are TIRED!" - they scream.

I hear you.

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