It’s Martin Luther King day. One of the greatest revolutionaries of our time, MLK has been a hero of mine since grade 6 when I first heard his "I have a dream” speech. My own privilege aside, I felt a kinship with the idea that all people should be free to live equally in peace, and I've always felt compelled to shed light on societal injustices. As MLK argued, these cannot be unyoked from the totality of human experience. Injustices experienced by one group have consequences that inevitably impact others. When we let one act of oppression slide, we keep the door open for our own. Our fates are forever and inextricably linked.
So I always have that in the back of my mind, I suppose. The luck I have to be born with the privileges I have. How it could have gone some other way. And I think a lot about why things are the way they are, and I spend time questioning these systems of power. But it’s not enough.
As a progressive mom, I involve my kids in civil disobedience when I can, but it feels like there’s so much more work to do in helping them understand not only the prevailing inequalities and injustices that exist, but also that things don’t have to be this way.
If I look at the career paths I’ve taken, I suppose aspects of humanitarianism are present. I really can't imagine having a career where I didn't help marginalized people in some way. But I often question whether I make a difference, and I struggle with how to contend with the broken systems I operate in. One day I'll write more about this as it pertains to my current job.
As for MLK, well, I can't help but wonder what he would think of our world today. Of his country. How it continues to segregate and enslave people by means of social order, poverty, and criminal justice policies. I wonder what he would think of how America has held the torch for Israeli forces to commit genocide in Gaza?
I wonder what he would think of shipping lines being placed paramount over human lives. Of children being slaughtered and hospitals being bombed.
Spending too much time here gets me in a pretty dark place, yet I know I'm lucky to escape it, whereas the individuals actually living these horrors cannot. Yet as someone who feels things deeply, the cognitive dissonance it takes to live in a world that allows for the peace and safety of some but not others is emotionally taxing. I feel helpless and get a little queasy thinking about how far away we've gotten from MLK's dream. The inhumanity of it all is staggering.
I wish I could do something more than just talk about it. I wish I didn't have to leave my kids this shithole and put all my hopes in their generation to be the ones to fix it.
I'm tired.
Comments