Being Overwhelmed.

I have to be honest. I am overwhelmed. Completely.

I’m overwhelmed with gratitude to see people speaking up but also mad that it took so long. I’m overwhelmed knowing I am supported by most of my friends but sad that some still don’t get it. I am overwhelmed because I have to move soon and I don’t get to say goodbye to this place I love so much. I am overwhelmed because I want to slap the hell out of Candace O. for being what the racists want a Black person to be. That’s docile and quiet and “yessir massa” to following orders and putting down Black folks. I’m overwhelmed because I want this movement to mean something. Black people have been fighting against racism since we got here. I’m overwhelmed because I keep having to explain common sense stuff to people who don’t really want to know the truth. But I care so I keep doing it. I’m overwhelmed by the silence of my white friends. Silence. I’m overwhelmed by the noise of fighting for me from my other white friends…in a good way. I’m overwhelmed because I don’t get why my skin color is so offensive that legislation has to be put in place to protect it…specifically. I’m overwhelmed because I’ve lived under this shadow of racism and white supremacy for so long that it’s normal. I’m overwhelmed because I’m feeling that weight of racism and that shadow of white supremacy and the cloud that we’ve been living in.

I’m overwhelmed because I want to have children but I don’t want them to be in a world that’s against them…because they’ll be Black. 

Love always, Monica

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  1. I’m so sorry you’re hurting. It freaking sucks and it’s not fair. I know that nothing I say can ease the pain you feel right now, but please accept these virtual (((hugs)))

  2. I can definitely relate. This entire year has just been acutely stressful. I am not moving this year, but we can definitely agree that the year leading up to the move itself can be stressful. My workplace feels wierd. I’m mentally exhausted, emotionally torn, and yet still trying to stay both produtive and positive. My shipmates ask if I am okay, but I question the sincerity of it. I feel obligated to speak on the “civil unrest”, as they’ve so eloquently named it. And that in itself is exhausting. Relating to a statement you made in your post, earlier today I admitted, that I refused to raise my family here. When asked by my non-black coworkers what can they do, I said our organization needs to clean house.

    I’m just over it.

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