Sunday, December 28, 2014

Being a Burden


We all start out as burdens.  Not devastating burdens, usually.  But for the first 40 weeks of a human's existence, he or she is putting a woman in some sort of discomfort.  Be it sciatica, morning sickness, hormones that make her emotional.  Pregnancy is a blessing for most, sure, but that doesn't mean it isn't a bumpy ride.  Here's the thing, though: being a burden is not inherently bad.  I mean, sure, you might be causing a woman to have shooting pains throughout her legs, but you're also bringing her happiness with your kicks and stuff.  


I watched this video a little while ago, and it reminded me of Brittany Maynard.  I don't want to get into my opinion on whether or not physician-assisted suicide should be legal right now, but I do want to talk about something that I've heard frequently whenever that discussion takes place.

"I don't want to be a burden to my friends and family."

I've heard that from people who are sick, and I've heard it from people who weren't sick, but were trying to make a point.

The problem with that particular argument is that it's too late.  We're all part burden.

I didn't have the most, ahem... loving family experience growing up.  But, I distinctly remember going with friends to their families' homes.  I remember walking into a friend's house and greeting her ailing aunt, who couldn't quite feed herself or finish sentences, or make it to the bathroom every time she needed to go.  She was, frankly, a bit of a burden on her family.  But you know what?  She was a total blessing.  They remember her with nothing but fondness now.  And even then, they were happy to visit her.  No one enjoys helping another person use the bathroom.  No one loves the idea of running up and down the stairs a hundred times at night to refill a water glass.  But we do enjoy each other.  We do love each other.

When it comes down to it, I think we need each other.  Mostly for the good things.  The conversation, the support, the laughter.  But we all come with some bad stuff, too.  I have wonderful friends who I love, but that doesn't mean they never annoy me or that I never wish I could have a break.  But I'd rather deal with their problems than not have them in my life at all.

Yesterday, the daughter of a blogger I read passed away.  She was 22 and she had been a special needs child.  This mom wrote about her daughter for months, and people from all over the country prayed for her to have a peaceful death as it became clear that she didn't have much more time on earth.  I think it was probably very difficult for her family to care for her during that time.  They probably didn't sleep much, they were likely stretched thin.  I know that's how I feel when taking care of someone who is sick.  But I think it was probably worth it a million times over.  I think of my cousin who was killed after a motorcycle accident a few years ago almost every day.  His mom didn't get to say goodbye to him.  None of us did.  A man who heard the wreck held my cousin as he died and I'm so glad he wasn't alone as he left this world.  There are so many people who die suddenly, and so many people who never get to say goodbye to loved ones.  I think, even though it's likely the hardest thing anyone can do, caring for a person as they fall ill and as they die is a sort of blessing.  I mean, it's burdensome for sure.  I don't want to invalidate the struggle of it.  But I think getting to witness someone's last smiles or tears or words or breaths is the kind of pain that's also filled with grace.  Caring for someone you love is intrinsically good.  Supporting someone as they die is an act of love and in some ways, a privilege.  Not everyone is able to do those things.  

I'm religious and I think God makes every person, and I think every life is valuable.  But people who aren't religious can also appreciate that every single human being is different from each other.  Unfortunately, I think we tend to forget how amazing that is, whether we're religious or not.  I think if we did, we'd place higher value on life and on lives.  I think we wouldn't be so obsessed with the fear of being a burden.  Being burdened isn't fun, but it is part of knowing a person.  And knowing a person is a tremendous thing.  I mean, every person we know is a one of a kind.  How come we love owning one of a kind collector's items, but we fail to love knowing so many one of a kind people?  I think we need to remind ourselves of what a privilege it is to really know someone, and to remind ourselves that sometimes, shouldering a burden is completely, totally worth it. 

_
Charlotte

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Black Lives Matter

A few years ago a family member of mine, who is white, was chased by police.  He was a felon, he had been in a stolen car, and cops were aware of him.  When he saw them approaching, he ran.  He also had a gun on him.  He entered a nearby business building, pointed the gun (which I'm told wasn't loaded) at a man, and demanded that they trade clothes, presumably so he could get away without the police recognizing him.  His plan didn't work, and the police apprehended him.  The did so without any use of violence.  

Here's a question - how come 12 year old Tamir Rice was shot on spot for holding a bb gun, without any attempt from the police to solve the situation first, but police make every possible effort to stop a grown white man from using the hand gun he is pointing at another person?  If the police wanted to, they could have found a way to get Rice to put the bb gun down and a family wouldn't be grieving the loss of their 12 year old boy.  

After Michael Brown was shot and the country erupted into protests, we saw the rise of #blacklivesmatter.  Sadly, too many white people insist on changing this to "#ALLlivesmatter."  I guess it's a panicked impulse that goes along with colorblindness.  Here's the thing though.  Fellow white people, please stop trying to be included in this.  Society already values white lives.  When a white felon can run into an office building wielding a gun and not be shot, it's because society knows his life matters.  When James Holmes can walk into a movie theater with a gun and kill 12 people while wounding upwards of 70 more and then be arrested - not shot - it's because society values white lives.  

17 year old Trayvon Martin was stalked and killed because he was black, and his killer didn't face jail time.  The boy was unarmed and on his way home.  

Michael Brown was stopped for walking.  He was shot numerous times.  His killer isn't even facing a trial.  He was unarmed.  

Eric Garner was selling cigarettes* when a police officer decided to put him in a chokehold.  There is video footage showing the officer strangling Garner while Garner gasps, "I can't breathe," and his killer is not going to face trial.  

Yes, white people.  Our lives are important.  But no one is questioning that.  We don't get followed in stores because anyone suspects we're going to steal.  We don't get stopped on the street for no reason whatsoever.  And if we're committing a crime, there is a very, very good chance that we get arrested instead of killed.  

Every life has the same moral worth, regardless of race.  But society does not treat people of color as such.  Moreover, we are not all equal by a long shot.  Not economically, politically, or socially.  We say "black lives matter" because the police already know white lives matter.  The government already knows white lives matter.  And everyone who fights for justice already knows all lives matter.  But until black people can walk down the street without getting shot by the very people meant to protect them, yes, we need to make it clear that specifically, black people are important and their lives matter.  

This is circulating around Facebook and Twitter.

This does not happen when suspects are white.  And sometimes's it's overt racism.  Other times, and this is horrible, it's totally internal.  According to his testimony, Darren Wilson felt threatened by Michael Brown.  At some point, white people need to get over our discomfort with talking about race and truly look at ourselves.  How come a cop standing over six feet tall looks at a black man roughly the same height and thinks, "Hulk Hogan?"  How come a man sees a black teenage boy and feels the need to call the police, follow him, and interrogate him, before murdering him?  

The system is built on institutionalized racism, I know that.  That's part of why police officers can kill unarmed black men and not even face trial.  It's why so many black people live in poverty, why minorities face more jail time more often than white people.  

But there's more to it.  I honestly do not think the majority of white people think of black people as equal to them.  It's why we say things like, "you act white!" to our black friends who speak like we do.  We're effectively saying, "You're smart!  You speak the right way!  You're normal!"  

I used to say things like that, and I am so, so grateful that God sent me a professor who assigned The New Jim Crow, two black roommates, and a slew of new friends who were much smarter than me to really open my eyes.  Because four years ago, I would have been using #ALLlivesmatter.  Now I know better.  And I think it's another reason why it's so important to continue the narrative of "black lives matter."  Because we need to understand that not only do black lives need to matter when it comes to the "justice" system, but they need to matter every day.  Because let me ask you (especially any of my white middle class friends) - how many black teachers did you have in elementary school?  How many black friends?  Black doctors?  Jim Crow ended, but segregation is still very much alive.  And it is damn near impossible to understand that black lives matter just as much as white lives if all you've known is white people, if the only time you see black people is when you're locking your doors driving in their neighborhoods.  So yeah, #blacklivesmatter should be here to stay.  White people should be listening to black folks when they tell their stories.  White people should constantly remind themselves that it doesn't matter if a black kid stole a few cigars, his life was still precious.  There is no doubt in my mind that there would be uproar from white communities if a 12 year old named Adam Johnson was shot dead by police for any reason.  

So use #blacklivesmatter when you're on Twitter.  Use it when you're commenting on the legal system and say it to yourself when you're about to comment on how a black man wears his pants.  Use it all the time.  



*It's not even certain that Eric Garner was doing anything wrong.  Apparently, he might have actually been breaking up a fight.  Either way, his murder is unacceptable. 
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Charlotte