I Used to Know Some People

Before any of you become overly concerned, I used to know a lot of people. I am the oldest of five, great with kids, was a high performing student, had great manners, went to church and volunteered. Basically, I was a hot commodity on the church & homeschool circuit as a babysitter, mentor, driver, helper, you name it. Plus all the other kids had a healthy fear of my mom, which meant parents knew I was not going to cause any trouble. I couldn’t afford to, which meant I got invited to all kinds of random stuff. I am not openly attacking, criticizing, or throwing anyone under the bus with this post. Don’t come at me for that. For something else maybe, but not for that. 

One particular couple came into my life in what turned out to be a critical time. I started babysitting for this couple shortly after my dad died. My parents were the healthiest marriage I knew. The other healthy marriage I knew moved away. After his death, the marriages that were left I absolutely did not want to replicate. I was starting to give up on the whole concept. If you have other views of relationships, this isn’t a critique. I just always wanted this, therefore it was disheartening to be surrounded by a lack of examples. Try to remember how you felt when you found out when Santa Clause wasn’t real. Or in my case in 9th grade science class when you realize ponies are real - unicorns aren’t.

Back to the original story. I started babysitting for this one particular couple. They weren’t perfect, but holy cow did this couple love each other well. From what I can tell from my instagram deep dives...they are more in love now than back then when they openly welcomed me into their home. 

I wish this kind of healthy longevity on anyone who so desires it.

Prom 2008. Too busy studying to comb out my bangs. So clearly an excellent babysitter.

I babysat for them, and lots of families, from high school through parts of college. With that kind of imprint on my life, as you can imagine I’ve always held these interactions in high regard.

What I didn’t realize is how much I was still filtering myself all these years later. 

As a babysitter, you absolutely do not say a lot of things to other people’s kids. That’s how you keep your job. If kids ask you big questions - you redirect and/or get them to ask their parents and/or distract them with super fun babysitting tactics. 

It wasn’t until last year that I realized how much, somewhere along the way...I had been letting other people’s opinions silence me. It was honestly as if I was still incredibly worried about losing my babysitting gigs..at 29. Most of the kids I once watched are married with jobs, careers, and cars now. Some even have their own kids. I think I’m in the clear. 

Let it be known that I have not seen or had in-person contact with a lot of these folks in almost a decade. Let it be known that at no point did they ever ask me to be silent, or act small. I took that on all by myself. When I thought about potentially - if ever - getting married, I always thought about this one couple in particular. I always thought highly about several of these families. No matter what comes next in this post, these statements remain true. 

One day I saw a story posted. Then I saw another story, and then ANOTHER story. All with the theme of - “Black lives matter is a terrorist organization (antifa). Black lives matter is all about rioting. Masks are for sheep. Democrats are xyz. [These] people are communists/socialists…” Honestly I could go on, but I won’t. They are seared into my brain. 

Side note.  Like the tweet/meme/gif going around says - If wearing a mask is the most oppressed you’ve ever felt…

I digress. 

It wasn’t just these families who had somehow played a bigger role in my life that I had originally realized. It was SO. MANY. PEOPLE. that I grew up with. People that had been pivotal in me turning out the way that I have. 

You are probably wondering why I kept looking at people who seemed threatened by my brown skin. Well, first I “muted” them. But…then I just typed their name into the search bar. Every time I looked my ENTIRE day would be thrown. I’d either burst into tears, have INCREDIBLY high anxiety, or have a pit in my stomach all day. Let me remind you, this was in 2020. On top of all the chaos. This couple whom in my mind’s eye was this beautiful, strong, loving group - thought most of what I had come to fight for was a terrorist organization. That a movement of people who looked like me, who simply wanted the same rights as everyone else - was a terrorist organization. Terrorist. Organization. Let that sink in.

Yes, I stand firm on the statement that it feels they are threatened by my brown skin. Because yesterday, January 6th, 2021 there was no condemnation on the chaos at the capital. There was…understanding. So, people who were upset that their team lost had a right to behave like children. However, people who were upset that it wasn’t safe to live in this country - had absolutely no rights to attempt to peacefully protest? Was I angry? Of course. Mostly, I was devastated.

For some reason, it became imperative for me to know that people who I do not still talk to thought *my* life mattered. That they knew that people who looked like me, that had historically been disenfranchised over and over again in this country, were asking to be recognized. That they were teaching their kids the whole entire history of this country. The broken, murderous, horrendous history of this country. That when they read their Bible, they also read about the Jesus of justice, who recognized and challenged broken systems. That this movement has never been about violence. 

That is a whole hell of a lot to telepathically ask of strangers who I haven’t spoken to in almost a decade. 

u(My friend Kathy sent this quote to me from @latina while I was typing this post. She had know idea how fitting it was for the moment.)

DDuring these very dramatic internal monologues which occurred in the shower, sprawled across my floor, and sometimes on the toilet - I realized something. I had not been saying things...FOR YEARS...because I didn’t want to hurt some ambiguous person who I don’t know. Sometimes specific people whose specific addresses I very much do know.

M

I have never wanted to stop being kind. Whether or not you think I’m kind...that much I don’t necessarily care about anymore. I need to be kind to myself, and I need to be my authentic self. I can love people who provided me with some beautiful memories, and a lovely hope at the possibilities of my future. I can also recognize our paths may never cross again. I know black lives matter, I am in support of the movement, and I am not going to apologize for that. For some people, that is apparently threatening for reasons unbeknown to me. 

This is only one example of the countless times I’ve felt unseen.

Another picture of high school me for kicks. I wish these bangs could be unseen.

That is what is happening again and again and again and again in this country today. Though it hits more personally when it’s someone that you know. When it’s someone that you’ve had a conversation with. It hits more personally when you see people getting away with absolute chaos when brown people have been murdered in their sleep, walking down the street, holding everyday objects, and peacefully protesting. 

Feeling unseen is exhausting. Feeling unseen and not ever using your voice? That is soul crushing. No matter what anyone else is saying, it is time to choose what you need. I don’t intend to choose what I need at the cost of everyone else. I do intend to choose what I need so that I can be there for the community of people I am called to support. I am choosing to stay true to myself. I am choosing to stand up for what I believe in. Yes, I can do this by also supporting and loving others. I can also do this by challenging others. I still choose to do all of this respectfully, with kindness, and occasionally with humor and sarcasm. If my belief that black lives matter is somehow threatening to you, then maybe that’s about you. 

The point of all this? Right now, we all have a choice to make. Either we will allow ourselves to acknowledge are feelings, hurts, and truths. Or, we will remain silent and not honor that part of ourselves. One of these decisions will suffocate us, and one will set us free.