discharge.

WARNING:  This one’s a bit dark.  Just bear with my discharge of negativity.

“It is the realization that the most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed.” - Steve Biko

The powerful keep their power by making the powerless feel like they’re crazy for wanting the power they deserve.  Any time I’m made to feel like I’m crazy for seeing injustice and speaking out against it, I remind myself that people actually thought it was okay to take away a person’s (a CHILD’s) freedom - human rights violations all across the board - simply because of a physical trait designed for sun adaptation.  And that’s how the powerful kept their power, by psychologically torturing the powerless. 

I stood in front of a mock solitary confinement room at the Apartheid Museum.  They’d put a bucket in there for human waste and empty it once a week.  

There were like 8 showers for 2,000 people in the prison we toured.  The bathrooms were right next to where the prisoners ate, no cover provided.  

Human dignity didn’t exist.  

How can you not hate your body when you’re ridiculed for it’s functions?  When you’re forced to sit in its waste, which  makes you ill?  How can you not kill yourself?  

Most of the time they’d do the deed for you, covering it up like you did it yourself. 

How do these people who did these things live with themselves every day?  They’re likely not there, not really living, not really present in the moment to let the destruction of what they did overwhelm their being.  I’d be interested to see how they numb themselves every day and if it’s predictable.

I just kept walking through these museums, one foot in front of the other.  I’d find myself unable to ignore the intensity of the fear I felt in my chest, radiating through my body like a scream stuck in my throat.  Now, I feel a bit numb.

Sometimes I have these moments where I think if anyone is watching the world from above, seeing all these little human beings interacting with one another, this world bird would be filled with despair at the ways in which humans kill one another over such meaningless difference, all based in fear.  I mean, really, I keep having this thought that it really is that simple.  People are afraid of things they don’t understand, they’re afraid a certain person or group of people is going to violate them in some way, take away their human rights, their privilege, etc., so they rob them of their rights first.  Kill or be killed.  

WHY CAN’T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG?

I know, it’s all so much more complex.  But when I’m filled up with despair like a glass that’s half empty and the frustration is brimming and I’m so sad and afraid this is what I go back to.  

Be the change you wish to see in the world.

May the survivors of these museum honors find solace that there are those of us that recognize their agony.  May you find peace in your own way, in your own time.

It’s that damn black hole again.

And I’m grabbing at a hand outstretched above me, not sure who’s it is, but does it matter?  Because we’re all equal, and above all, we all have the capacity to love.

ubuntu.  

We are who we are because we are. 

Okay, on a lighter note: I’m up early in the morning to finally head to see those fabulous animals.  Nothing like a safari to ground me in environmental existence and remember the world’s natural beauty.