I’ve been thinking about how much we have lost this year. Family and friends, acquaintances and those who we never knew personally but whose work affected us nonetheless. Each life represents a story that is gone and never fully recovered.
I once visited the Vietnam War Memorial in DC and was struck by the inconceivable number of names engraved in stone. It felt endless, not because of the physical length but because of the unquantifiable loss represented by each life brutally ended. That war changed the country, but I don’t know if it was for the better.
The virus has cut short a number of lives that I cannot begin to comprehend, but it doesn’t end there. Unemployment, overworked first responders, essential workers who have had to hold the economy up on their backs. We haven’t even begun the mourning process because we’re still in the middle of the tragedy.
And now we are seeing the result of too much brutality against black and brown citizens for too long. The pent up anxiety of a pandemic has no doubt fueled the rage, but that makes it no less justified. What we need is a government willing to listen to the voices rising up in the streets. What we have is a president who understands nothing but his own ego, who only denounces racism under extreme duress. We all know he is on the side of the oppressors.
It feels bleak, but whenever I check my feed I see posts of support, people who want to do the right thing. People writing of acceptance and love. We want to help each other. So I’ll end on that note. If you made it all the way to the end, thank you. I’m with you.