Every time I go to start this blog I can’t do it. I feel this overwhelming need to attempt to address the insanely messed up world we live in, to somehow unpack everything and make sense of it all. As the weeks have ticked by and I’ve kept putting off, starting felt more and more insurmountable. What do I say, particularly as a white person? Is now even an appropriate time for me to start shouting into the void, potentially drowning others out? What even are my motivations for wanting to shout anything at all? Does it come from a place of justice, or the performative need to satisfy the expectations of others?
This afternoon I decided I was done luxuriating in the frozen valley of perpetual indecision. Silence cannot be afforded, and perfection cannot be demanded. I have no answers, and truthfully I offer no profound solutions. As writers, we have an obligation to question how our work promotes justice. All I can do is put my money where my mouth is + acknowledge my own role by examining my own art and the art I consume with a critical eye.
It can be overwhelming to look into the shadows, but we have to. Marginalized and oppressed people live everyday in a reality the privileged can’t begin to imagine; just glimpsing a fraction of the truth has ignited a conflagration of outrage in the US. But it’s long, long overdue.
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CA McDonald 