Loss and 2020

My first post of this little adventure started with the idea that I was going to discuss things from a perspective on life in our times from the gender and hue the majority tends to ignore unless we’re hauling a ball, singing a song, acting a role—or having our heads pushed into a police car.

And 2020 has provided one hell of an opportunity to provide perspective and have a few discussions that have not been comfortable.  I appreciate those who have followed and were willing to have those conversations.

Hoping you’re willing to end the year with one more conversation…

A conversation about loss:

Loss of life on a scale we haven’t seen in our lifetimes—and the selfish reaction that too many people had about the steps put in place to stop its spread.

Loss that has some—too many—on the precipice of economic disruption that will impact not only their lives—but potentially the lives of their children’s children.

Loss of illusions on just how far we’ve come when too many people are more upset about the reaction to a recorded murder than the act—the murder—that caused people to go into the streets.

Loss of the concepts of decency and civility, that after 5 years of the game show host—and those who support him—calling their “enemies” everything but the Children of God, that they have spent the last 8 weeks falling back on the “we got caught” response: “well they started it,” and “two wrongs don’t make a right.”
 
The loss of perspective: sometimes perspective comes from the reality of the part of the “elephant we’re touching” and it’s time to acknowledge that perhaps there is some gray in the world of Black and White.

And for many of my melanin deprived brothers and sisters, loss of the thing they sincerely believed they would always have.

Because at the end of the day—the greatest loss for them was the loss of control.

And the response to that loss of control was to strap on their weapons and:

Try to take over state legislatures.

Defend statues erected to celebrate those who committed treason.

Menace those who were trying to vote.

And openly discuss committing their own acts of treason to prevent the peaceful transition of power.  

Ironically, many people of color can understand this loss—because even today we live with the knowledge that no matter how far we’ve advanced, no matter what we can afford to buy, no matter where we’re now (possibly) allowed to live, that we are a set of flashing lights from losing the ability to control our lives. The reality for people of color—especially us Brown folks—is that even today, the old joke about “What does a cop in the south call a Black doctor?” still holds true far too often.

I really want to believe this singular loss of control, a control they have seen exercised by people who look like them across all economic strata (after all, it was LBJ who made this fear of losing control crystal clear) all their lives that caused them to vote in record numbers for the most openly racist candidate for the presidency in the last 150 years. Some of these people are not hiding the sincere hope that insurrection occurs even though the electoral process has done what it was designed to do, allow for the peaceful transfer of power after a candidate loses and election.

Why do I want to believe this?

Because the alternative, believing  that some of the people I know who voted for the former game show host are so OPENLY RACIST that they truly don’t care about marching us back to the days of Jim Crow and “Separate but Equal” is OK as long as they stay in control.

Because the alternative, believing that they want an America, a world where colored folks remember their place, poor people have the courtesy of staying in places where they can’t be seen (Is it irony that a local TV station aired a sequel to their piece about the “death” of Seattle the week before Christmas? All the host of the special missed saying was “are there no prisons?” “Are there no workhouses?”)

Because the alternative, believing  that they are comfortable with this as long as it allows them to continue believing the statement from the play “Purlie Victorious” that “God is a White Man.”

Would drive me beyond despair.

As I’ve grown older, I have become a little more cynical, I don’t deny it, but I still try my best to continue following the premise that I was raised on—and continue to believe.

That there is essential goodness in every person, no matter how twisted, vicious and cruel their world view may be.

2020 has been about loss—but even amidst the loss—I continue to believe in the essential goodness of people—even though people have tested that belief so much this year.

So as I—as we—prepare to get the hell away from this “plague year,” I enter 2021 still believing that:  

“The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice,” 

“What our mothers and fathers fought for we will not let die,”

“Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.”

“Tomorrow ain’t as bad as it seems.”

May 2021 be our first step toward reaching the “Beloved Community.”

Until Next Time.