When I think of Black Lives Matter, I think of… I think of so many things right now. First, I think of hope - the hope that maybe things will change... if they are gonna change this is the movement to do it. Next of course I think of Trump and Trump’s America that has encouraged hatred to dig its heels in. The fact that Black Lives Matter is a controversial idea makes me feel sick. I think of how small and insignificant I feel to make a difference. I have to keep telling myself the little things I do can help just so I’ll keep doing anything at all and not fall back into a stupor. But also, in the context of you asking, I think of a whole mess of feelings about where we came from... DCS... and how badly it prepared me for the roll-your-sleeves-up, down-in-the-dirt bloody truth of the world. I wonder how you must have felt there. I think of the anger I feel for not being taught about racism in our country... in ourselves! Fed to us every day by our world. I feel angry we weren’t immediately and thoroughly taught how to fight it. But ultimately, I think of how much energy and perseverance it must take for anyone who is Black to still be fighting. I have awe and reverence for it. And despite the fragile, flimsy little taped together shred of belief in God I have left, I still pray so hard we see real change and not ONE MORE murder.
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