#breath

How can we breathe
With your knee on our necks

How can we run
With your sights on our backs

How can we rest
With your boots in our homes

We can’t grow older
The ink gets colder
And they become bolder

Tears enough to drown a nation
But not enough
To fill that basin
Called compassion
For those that think themselves
Up on a higher station

Born with a target
Always seen as a threat
Working twice as hard
Just so that we can get
Half the dream
It’s all routine
Yeah, all part of the plan
Here lies a statistic
Where there once stood a man

Don’t call it racism
No, they don’t like that word
Here in 2020
We’re all free as the birds
Everybody now
We can all spread our wings
That’s right, use that voice
But only if you’re gonna make
The choice
To just say nice things

They say, “Keep your eyes down
That’s right, kids
No need to look
All that violence and hate
It’s tucked away safe
In our history books
When you see something bad
Just change that channel
Repeat after me
Politics have no place
In a comic book panel”

All those struggles
They talk about only in past tense
We say we’re still fighting
They act like we don’t have no sense
To judge for ourselves
How far
That we still need to go
They say that’s enough for now
We’re gonna let you know
When we feel like
Letting you get closer to equal
We’ve had one Civil Rights Act
No need for a sequel

You tell us it’s a choice
Between the black and blue
We say our lives matter
You come back with, “Blue ones too”
But you don’t stop and think
About how it’s a matter of power
When will the time come
Tell us the minute and hour
When you’re ready
To open up your eyes
You sure look close
For a good reason why
An unarmed man deserved to die

You say don’t resist
You tell us you shouldn’t run
But who has control
When you’ve got the badge and a gun
Tell us how it can be
That when you’re scared
We’re the ones who got to suffer
You think you’re the only one
With a father and mother?

What’s the worst
That could happen
Why are you so scared
Of what comes out of our mouths
So sorry to darken your day
With all of these clouds

No, wait
It’s actually smoke
You’re gonna listen now
It’s your turn to choke
So while you complain
About what’s burnt and broke
About how woke is too woke
You sit and whine
About all these things with a price tag
This is the cost
Of turning a life
Into just another hashtag

Truth, Justice, and Atychiphobia

You know, it’s a little strange that one of the talking points of anti-lockdown folk has become about “living in fear.”

So, let’s talk about fear.

After all, I certainly understand what it’s like to actually live in fear.

I’ve made references to the decade I spent holed up in my room following the death of my little sister, but few people have been given a peek at my mindset.

What’s important to understand about living in fear is that it’s being afraid of living. You are so consumed with fear that you are terrified of building anything that resembles a real life because you know how fragile a life truly is. You know what it is to see the hopes and happiness of a life full of potential and purpose snuffed out. You lose yourself in the pit of nothingness that you see everyone tightrope-walking over with every step. You let fear take you. You let it change you.

But, fear can be useful.

When people talk about fear as a tool, they tend to speak of it as something wielded only by the powerful. They rarely speak of it as something that can be used by the fearful as a path to something better, as yet another source of strength.

Yes, fear is a utility built into our instinct and our conscious self. We learn to be fearful of the things that hurt us, the things that pose a threat. But what happens when the thing we’re most afraid of is ourself?

That’s what we’re seeing now.

Being afraid of our potential is what freezes you in one mode or another. For me, it was about being afraid of building something that could be stripped away from me in an instant. But, for others, for the kind of people who would insist that it’s really others who are afraid, what they fear most is their potential weakness. Or even the appearance of weakness.

They feel the need to press on because doing otherwise would compromise the sense of self they’ve built up in their own minds. They would rather put their physical self at risk than take a good hard look at their own self-perception and challenge it.

They’re afraid, too. They’re afraid of vulnerability. Of anything that undermines the concept of them being so star-spangled awesome that they can’t be touched.

But they’re wrong.

And I get it. We really just want this ride to be over. After 9/11, the financial crisis, the War on Terror, we just can’t handle more.

Well, too bad. That’s not how life works.

The fear is already here. The challenge is already here.

We have to admit that sometimes the best thing we can do is recognize the fear of what’s in our hearts can connect us and push us harder than we ever thought possible.

Some of the best things we’ve ever accomplished, we did so because we were afraid. We were afraid of living under British rule. We were afraid of what we’d become if we allowed slavery to continue. We were afraid of being hypocritical by denying women the right to vote or gays the right to marry. We were afraid of being overrun by the Axis Powers and the wave of communism. We were afraid of losing the race to the moon. We were afraid of failing to avenge 9/11.

Really, we are all afraid of letting ourselves down.

It’s okay to admit that.

It’s okay to be a little afraid sometimes. No one who ever accomplished anything worth a damn was fearless.

The universe is throwing down the gauntlet. It’s demanding a new Greatest Generation.

We can’t be that if we aren’t around.

We can’t be that if we don’t care for each other.

And we sure as hell can’t be that if we’re unwilling to admit what we’re afraid of.