9. Ach―!
A History of Stifling
Alice ate a cake that made her gigantic. She shot through a brick roof. And here we are today pressed up against a glass ceiling. Girls across the world are given a potion to shrink themselves.
Sometimes they don't even see it coming. Roofied by "are you really wearing that?", "you don't want children?", "here let me help you with that." And sometimes it's a little more deliberate; cat calls, wage-gaps, no justice on the premise of athletic excellence.
We've shrunk ourselves pocket-sized, inside and out. Starved, so that our weight matches what we were told was our worth. 0 in tennis is love. Muted our bright blue lipstick so at least one part of us conforms. Taken off the heels so we were small enough to hold. Small enough to finally love.
And on the inside, shrinking women is systematic.
"People don't like bossy girls."
"Who would believe you?"
"It's different."
Chipping away until we're finally small enough to sit in the palm of the hand of a man who's got you and the whole world convinced he's divine.
Blood in the streets, no justice, no
peace
No hateful beliefs, no rest 'til we're
free
A slave in mentality is just as bad as a slave in physicality. A phantom limb of handcuffs, whips, fists, hands on your throat. For as long as there is supremacy, there will be a slave. A slave to money/power/OPPRESSION.
We will never forget the towers coming down, or the death camps. Nor will we forget the whips and the nooses. Sticking your head in the sand does not make the blood wash away with the tide. It turns the ocean a deep scarlet.
There is a lot of black history. Enough to fill museums upon museums. But we cannot ogle at the things in the museum until we understand the foundation of the building. Ornate structures built from the stones once pressed on chests. A tombstone marking the graves of those who toiled the land until they became part of it. Black history matters, and so do black lives.
Blood in the streets, no justice, no
peace
No hateful beliefs, no rest 'til we're
free
You step out of your home for just a moment. Your father's father built the house. Your dad grew up there. You grew up there. Your children are growing up there. It's every piece of you in one place. Whole.
Until suddenly it's not. You walk back in and there's strangers in your home. They've scribbled on family portraits. Tipped the furniture. Painted the walls with the blood of your loved ones. Claimed it as their own.
This is not the story of you in your suburban home. This is not a headline. This is the story of Native Americans. Pillaged and raped in their homeland by strangers who saw them as inherently lesser. We celebrate genocide and appropriation.
They are not empathized with. They are silenced. They are overshadowed.
"It was practically a million years ago."
"We're just celebrating America."
"GET OVER IT."
Blood in the streets, no justice, no
peace
No hateful beliefs, no rest 'til we're
free
1.2 out of every 10 people kills themselves over love. If I told you I was going to kill myself because I loved some boy, you'd probably have a heart attack. Because that's not okay. It will never be okay.
But somehow it is. Because the 1.2 children killing themselves are part of the LGBT community. Boys and girls all across the nation are afraid to love! To hold a hand, to kiss a cheek, to go on a date.
We've perfected the system of shutting up queer kids. If you were put in a box and surrounded by guns, ready to shoot as soon as you stepped out, where would you go? Stay in the closet, walk out and we'll kill you, or make you hate yourself so much that you do it yourself.
Blood in the streets, no justice, no
peace
No hateful beliefs, no rest 'til we're
free
In our school systems, we've adopted STEM learning. Science, technology, engineering, math. The perfect recipe for robots. We're reaching for the future to blur our pasts.
In an attempt to become the Children of Tomorrow we've forgotten our yesterdays. History classes have textbooks from twenty years ago. As long as we're building skyscrapers who cares what they're built upon?
Art, dance, music. Fool's errands. Why waste your time painting the present when there's a future to propagate? Who's gonna hear the rhythmic stomping of feet over the bullets of World War III? There's no use in music unless Beethoven's symphonies are a proven catalyst in genius.
Languages are underfunded and underappreciated. Who cares why the caged bird sings if you can't figure out the volume of the cage? Nobody teaches us how to speak or write or draw or sing because nobody wants to hear what you have to say.
We can't speak English. We can't speak Spanish. We can't speak French. Because the second we can start reading and speaking and knowing we've rewired our brains. We're robots with conscience. And conscience is not a key quality in the World of Tomorrow.
Blood in the streets, no justice, no
peace
No hateful beliefs, no rest 'til we're
free
Silence is a luxury. Here in America, we are 19 trillion dollars in debt. WE CANNOT AFFORD LUXURY.
You cannot sit at home and watch the horror through the window. Seeing is not changing.
It's been made quite clear that most people in power do not care about our bodies. They can touch them, grab them, destroy them. The only thing we have left are our voices.
For centuries we've been told to be quiet. And it's never worked. We've screamed and shouted and made ourselves heard. We've grown and changed, ourselves and the world. And today, I urge you to march. To speak. To write. To paint. To dance. To sing. TO BE HEARD.
We're pressing play, not rewind. They won't mute us this time.
Blood in the streets, no justice, no
peace
No hateful beliefs, no rest 'til we're
free
Blood in the streets, no justice, no
peace
No hateful beliefs, no rest 'til we're
free
Tags:
inspiration
0 comments