Sedition: The Day After

I don’t have the words. Maybe I don’t need them.

Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised at the flagrant display of whiteness at work. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that the same people who carry the flags of a seditious insurrection from the 1800’s support one now.

I’m thinking of marginalized folx this morning and how angry I am at people who dare compare fighting for the right to live as a Black person in America to the seditious circus we witnessed yesterday. I’m angry about the juxtaposition between the police brutality this summer and yesterday. How clearly it illustrates what activists have been saying.

Some say, “This isn’t the America I grew up in.” Really? Since when? Others say, “It’ll pass, ignore it.” That seems like emotional gaslighting. When are we supposed to start paying attention? Was it when our friends and family started posting conspiracy theories on Facebook? When we saw our neighbors protesting “the steal” on the sidewalk of our main drag week after week? When Capitol police essentially escorted terrorists into the building holding our line of succession? Or, is the underlying goal of this statement to maintain the status quo? Ignorance is a privilege. It tells me that either outcome doesn’t effect you. Or you simply don’t care. Well, it effects others. And you damn well should care.

Enough from me. Here’s a collection of screenshots from BIPOC. They say it better than I can. They live it. We all live it. We should all be ashamed and ready to fight for real change. We can’t ignore what is right in front of us.