Black Lives Matter

They really do, and I am trying to figure out how I can help change our societal structure to show that. Board work, voting, re-educating myself on the language I use, the implicit bias I carry, the images and stories I share with my kids, lots of thinking and lots of reading.

When Max was hurting in the hospital recently, trying to fix symptoms of an unfixable syndrome, there were times that it felt like I couldn’t handle the sadness and the worry. It occurred to me as I was feeling sorry for myself and my boy that I was being ridiculously self-indulgent: he was getting the best care in the world for his particular condition, I have lots of love and support from family and friends, we weren’t worried about how to pay for it (German healthcare, hurrah,) or what to eat or where to stay. The most striking thing, though, was the luxury of being hurt by an unpreventable accident. There are so many moms in so many hospitals who are watching their kids deal with preventable injury: by poorly trained or poorly selected police, by the callousness and implicit racial bias of doctors, by social systems that don’t value black and brown lives enough to ensure that they have enough care, even enough food. It is absolutely enraging that, in a world where there are lots of good things, we are trained to think that some people deserve so much more than other people.

I’m rethinking the car I drive, the brands I wear, the food I eat, the way I spend my time, and, most of all, how acceptable it is to not talk about social injustice. The short story: not acceptable at all, not anymore. I am embarrassed by how much time I’ve spent just luxuriating in the benefits of being a white person in an inherently racist, capitalist society.

One blog post down, one world to go!