Why are you silent about Black Death?
This isn’t a rhetorical question.
When I open my phone, every post and tweet is about George.
About loss, about death, about pain.
Yet nothing feels foreign.
A week ago I cried for Ahmed. Today I scroll through my tl and discover the death of Breonna.
I think to myself, ‘it never stops.’
But before outrage, I just feel numb.
Like this country is slowly chipping away at my soul.
I wonder, ‘how I did become numb to death? when did I lose my humanity?’
Or has this country been priming me to accept black death since they murdered Trayvon?
The world is demanding I act, but truthfully at times I’m silent because my lungs swell with pain, my chest hurts, my heart aches.
Because I do not know what to do.
Social media feels performative.
Yes, a hashtag raises awareness — but what am I actually doing?
Death is not something I want to retweet — nor should death be something I can retweet.
I can donate and make phones calls, but to be honest, I’m tired of screaming black lives matter — I just want people to act like black lives matter.
I’m emotionally exhausted.
So I do nothing.
Then I realize — no, I’m privileged so I can afford to do nothing.
My immediate reality will not change, if I do nothing.
I will not die, if I do nothing.
Tucked away in the suburbs I can log off and sign out of this issue because challenging the status quo won’t impact me.
But for some people silence means death.
Death of their community, their children, their lives.
So inaction isn’t an option.
There are no bystanders in this issue.
Silence means you are complicit to the system in power, because if you aren’t challenging it your inaction is upholding it.
So I asked myself, “if I will use my voice support my friends, talk about trends, and everything else — why I am silent about Black Death?
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Consider donating to the Minnesota Freedom Fund.
The money is used to help bail out protesters/low-income individuals who can’t afford bail.
