Yesterday, I closed my eyes. I tried to take a deep breath. I hoped it would course through me like a cold current. I hoped it would scrub me clean. I hoped. But it lodged in the pit of my stomach and try as I might, I couldn't pull it through. I couldn't take it in. I couldn't. I think that I've been holding my breath my entire life. I've been caught with fear of release.
Have you ever been afraid to breathe? I sometimes wonder if that lump has broken apart and leaked into my bloodstream. I wonder if it disguised itself as Focal Segmental Glomerulosclerosis, if it's disguised itself as Lupus. I wonder. But, just as breath is vital, so is adaptability. Fear never won any battles and no one ever moved forward while standing still.
This week on the Trumpland Fuckery show we're baby snatching, in the name of God. Just like they used to snatch & sell slave babies, in the name of profit. Just like they snatched my ancestors, in the name of domestication. Just like they snatch my brothers and fathers, in the name of law and order. Just like they snatch benefits and programs, in the name of invisible bootstraps. Just like they snatch pussy, in the name manhood.
I watched as Sarah Huckabee Sanders tried to take a deep breath. I watched as that breath caught in her throat. I watched as she pushed down her humanity and locked her heart away. Some folks say that she doesn't have a heart. But, I know enough people to know that we are all dark creatures. Just check our closets and ask the skeletons. I know us enough to know that we're self righteous about any base instincts that aren't our own. On Tuesdays I'm a pot, by Friday I'm a kettle. But I remain, me.
My relationship to God has never been particularly complicated. I love him. He loves me and occasionally we get into it. Sometimes I call him The Universe. Sometimes I call him The Creator. Sometimes he's a she. But no matter what I call him, he is always love. The things that you do in the name of God, must be done in the name of love. Quoting scripture you don't understand is like reading poetry in a language you don't speak.
If brown folks make you feel weird, you're racist. If accents make you irrationally angry, you're racist. If a child has to look like you to have value, you're racist. But the thing is, racism is simply a lump in your throat. You can choose to breathe through it or you can let it choke you...but whatever you choose, call it by it's name.