It’s been a while between words…

Ok. Need a breath, need a break, but also need to devote time to the Resistance.

It’s been one hell of an emotional week and so many things are happening I’m literally feeling frazzled and distracted. It’s like I’ve been stuck in WalMart for the last year and just want to get out. That’s how it feels and I’ve just come on board with this fight.

I’ll have to admit the first time I got shook enough to go to a protest march, it wasn’t for Sandy Hook, it wasn’t for Black Lives, the LGBTQ crowd, it wasn’t for the Water Protectors our First Americans. It wasn’t for Immigrants, our next Americans. It was for the Women’s March.

I really want to think of myself as a good person. I work hard. I struggle. But…

My field is sexist in that 3/4 of men and women have a strong preference for a female therapist.  The idea that a politician can tell me what I can and can’t do with my body terrifies me as it is strongly intertwined with the fact that no matter how far we’ve come there is still a unshakable belief that a woman can’t be trusted to make choices for herself. Sexism is a tangible thing that I have felt. I understand it. I feel like I can fight it. I get it.

This, in a nutshell, is privilege. I didn’t have to worry because they came for those “thugs” and “fags” and “dirty Mexicans” and those “Muslims” I was against it, but.. to be honest… I never marched for them. When my own family used terms like that it made me cringe like when I’d hear my grandpa say “Nigger”. But, I never spoke up, or when I did and got a look I’d back down. Gods, it’s something you know is wrong but, why fuss? I mean old people will just be prejudiced and that’s the way it is right? Except those words, those hateful ideas that separate us and put all our problems onto a group, any other group than ourselves, those are what lead to the current administration and it’s fraught ideals that somehow there is someone else to blame.

We are to blame. For poverty. For racial divides. For suicides. For annexations and liberties taken by our government that to this day, January of fucking 2017 still disadvantage our Native population. At least if you start out disadvantaged you don’t go corporate to fuck your neighbor over for a percentage. We understand working for large corporations that there is a bottom line. Meet the bottom line and you get the breadcrumbs. We’ve felt so safe with our middle class breadcrumbs. If we look around at other problems we might have to get involved we might have to speak up.

Looking at a coloring book in the local Barnes and Noble because it caught my eye. It said Women of Power. I thought about all the times as a woman I’ve held my tongue to avoid conflict. To avoid being shrugged off again, dismissed again. I thought to Speak Up … that is a God-damned super power. To Speak Up and say NO. This isn’t right.

“Doesn’t matter what the press says. Doesn’t matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn’t matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right.
This nation was founded on one principle above all else: The requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world — “No, YOU move.”
J. Michael Straczynski, Civil War: The Amazing Spider-Man

This isn’t the country I’ve been raised to believe existed. Astronaut Barbie promised me the Moon. Sesame Street taught me that neighbors from different countries were to be friends and that we’d share what we know and do and they’d share what they know and do and it’d be pretty awesome. Hamilton (the musical) promises hope and if we can think our way out, write our way out. We can still be great. We can be what the forefathers imagined.

OMG, If you have the brain right now, go read this too. I want to go dig up Georges corpse and cuddle with it. What a brain.

They’ve come for my friends, blamed my friends and by extension me. I’ve heard that since history class in 5th grade and it’s what it feels like now. Guess what though? Those that have been in this fight, they came out and marched because they’ve been in this, skin in the game, literally, just waiting for the rest of the world to acknowledge the issues. BLM, Native Americans, Immigrants, they marched with Women, who make up parts of all these segments, but whole movements came out for us, we pushed back. Across the world a message was heard. Lest any forget, We are here, We MATTER, We Care! They came for them first and they are holding on by a thread, waiting for reinforcements. Let us be even half as strong as they have been in this battle. Let us listen, let us learn and let us be un-afraid to SPEAK UP ever again.



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