Sunday, January 20, 2019

How Much More?

© Utmost.org

The story and image of the day in social media on this Saturday, January 19, 2019, is of a smirking teenager in a "Make America Great Again" ball cap harassing Native American veteran of the Vietnam War Nathan Phillips as the elder was engaged in the Indigenous Peoples March on the mall in Washington, DC. Every time an incident like this happens, I hope against hope it is the final straw, that the country will finally come to collective agreement that this kind of hatred is wrong and must end. I am now at the point where I have nearly given up on that prospect.

I do not want to ever reach the point where I am immune to the pain and suffering of others, deaf to the news no matter how horrible and unjust, but I am running out of energy to fight it. It is daunting, it is incredibly fatiguing physically, psychologically, emotionally. I feel splintered as basically everything I hold dear is under assault by a government that is supposed to protect those things, those ideas, those ideals, those...PEOPLE. You call your senators and representatives about one issue today, and another fire flares up the next day.

I try and do the things that are expected of me by my spouse, my employers (when I have them, I work mostly on contract these days), and myself, and lately it may be a major accomplishment to go for a walk and get a load of laundry done. I feel largely defeated, depressed to a point where I am surprised to find I am functioning at all. Guilt consumes me that I am not doing more, and it feeds into the weight that has me at a standstill. I find myself falling into bad habits to numb my brain. It is not healthy.

Meanwhile, I keep waiting for friends whom I know voted for Trump to finally say something, anything. You can admit you were wrong, that you blinded yourself to the horrors on display during the campaign. You can be forgiven for wanting something and someone "different" for a change. What you cannot be forgiven for any longer is your acquiescing silence. The brutality is all around you, eroding those values and interests we share in common. Stand up for what you hold close to your heart. Do it now. We'll take you back. In fact, we never left, but you are on the verge of being someone that we used to know. It is not about you being wrong and me being right. There is nothing right about what is transpiring among the bigoted citizenry who has been empowered by our government leadership (and I use that term loosely). We should be able to agree on that.

We do not have the luxury of being spectators, waiting for the results of the Mueller investigation that, to my present understanding, has our President as one of several targets in its sights on an international scale of organized criminal activity centered around control of fossil fuel industries. We need distractions here and there, but we cannot allow ourselves to be consumed by mindless entertainment, the lure of drugs and alcohol, and the escapism of our own fantasies of an idyllic personal life, much as they tempt us.

Our best weapon right now is empathy: feeding each other compliments, supporting each other emotionally, financially, however we are able given our own flaws. Facebook and Twitter only go so far. We should probably start visiting each other in person, carpool to the next march for peace and justice, share a conversation over coffee afterwards. Stop sharing other people's memes. Make your own. Do art, do poetry, make music. In essence, use your talents to provoke in a good way. We can take turns so that while some of us are re-energizing, others can take their place.

Let's overwhelm the flood of crap out there with a wave of empathy for everyone from Native Americans to out-of-work federal employees. How much more disappointment and frustration and hurt can we take? How much pushback and solidarity from their victims can they take? We are far more creative than they are. We can be victorious in spite of them. Our heroes are bigger, better, and far more numerous than theirs are. You can see one of ours in the mirror.

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