Everyday I feel asked to do the impossible. The expectation of carrying a burden not my own and some how balancing it with what pulls me down in my life. There are moments when I feel suffocated and out of breath, even while I am surrounded by open space. I feel my words slip away and my eloquence is drowned in silence. There is a weight on my chest, that regardless of how frantically I fidget or squirm, it presses and drains the little energy that lingers. My heart pumps at a beat and pace that feels like fear, unnatural, and sleep comes in uncontrollable waves. When I look around the clarity smears into a haze of images and unfamiliar faces. I can’t digest the sentences thrown together with empty words, and the skipping scratches of a record are the only sense I can make of sound. The dark keeps the burn out of my eyes when shut tightly, and tucked away under blankets keeps the terror at bay.
People define it as anxiety, perhaps a fear of the unknown that has come to surface when hate took the helm of our country. It has been labeled as symptoms of clinical depression, or even outcomes of an array of stress disorders, but I recognize it as my fire. It glows and darkens as the embers heat and cool, and with gusts of unpredictable wind it has ignited into a devouring blaze spreading quickly across who I am. In this moment the world and environment are horrifically unpredictable and I need you more now than ever to control the flames.
I know these burdens are not mine, but ours. That while seemingly impossible in the moment, through the generations our triumph will come. In small victories we find the lucidity lost. I find the strength to stand when you reach out your hand and pull me out of the darkness into the light. I can breathe when your breath gives life to the air around me. Your words chip away at the weight pushing down on my body, and as we march the pace of my heartbeat finds a rhythm in our footsteps. I am not alone when I feel lost. I am not silent when I feel I have lost my voice. I find courage in you, in us, and who we are. We are the revolution.
We have chosen the path lined with tears, the blood of who we remember in our everyday, but the very same path is lined our mutual understanding this is bigger than us. Their words will never match ours. We carry with us knowledge; a generational knot tied so tightly to the roots that we sprouted from we will never be lost. We do not choose the advocacy movement of the day, but commit our lives to struggling alongside those we love and serve. They are us. We are more profound than a sign and with our actions reflect or intentions to model change in its truest form.
I carry my critiques; lock away my frustrations and disgust at their ignorance and flighty commitment justice so I can be present and engaged with you. I will be fueled by our courageous virtue, and us, not the naivety and sporadic morality of the masses. I will never be perfect and allow my imperfections to grow from your teachings. You comrade carry my unconditional respect and love for your devotion to grow and create a hope so unshakable that the future will belong those with an ethnical and just soul wrapped in the power of our solidarity.