Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Internal Struggle

    I have spent most of my adult life circumventing "touchy" issues such as race, ethnicity, religion, and politics. I have been longing to write and share my views, observations, and experiences; yet I find myself wrapped in my head afraid to speak up. Of course, I have had many discourses with myself, friends and family. However, publically I did not find it fitting to recognize or address these issues. I would instead allow myself to sink within the questions that plague me. What if no one hears me? What if someone with an opposing viewpoint comments with a counter-argument? Will I be able to face them?
    I crawl and hide in fear. Choosing instead to adopt the belief that perhaps I am inadequate. Perhaps my lack of merit is proof that I am not qualified to use my voice. When silence is no longer an option, I would opt for easy vague answers and hide behind the opinions of others, whether or not they are in agreement with mine. At the same time, the voice within me would scream and curse in anger for being silenced.
      As I write, I struggle to find the words that convey the reflections of my heart. The reflections of my mind. The ponderings that consume me when I read a Facebook post or comment that compel me to recognize the racial issues that dominate the country I live in. The emotions that swell and threaten to engulf me when I hear a story or rendition of a news report that somehow becomes a race issue. The constant internal battle that I face upon observing and witnessing the systemic racism that I know is the core of colonial construct of  European colonies and their independent offspring. Instead of addressing and working towards a resolution to the crises that are presented before me, I respond by quoting transformational and pacifist sayings that will temporarily put my mind at ease.  Dwelling instead in  the illusion that these problems will disappear on their own.
     But they do not. I suppose I hold on to the belief that nothing I say or do is going to change a person's mind and I suppose that may be true. Perhaps I can write an essay that has the solution to the very issue that plagues the reader and it gets overlooked. Yet, how often do I read a book and completely understand everything that the author is saying the first time around? Indeed, there is no true legitimate excuse for my cowardice.
   Here I am, writing and circumventing, afraid to say what it is that I want to say, yet hoping a reader will read this and somehow magically "get it". It appears unfair to the reader. Why go through all these words just to make a statement that could be made in only one sentence? Who am I fooling and what game am I playing really? I could easily just write it out: I struggle with hypocrisy. Truly, deeply. I am a hypocrite. I feel it in my core. I know I avoid watching the news so that I can pretend that the issues of the world do not exist. If they do not exist, I do not need to acknowledge them or do anything. That part in my heart that yearns to serve, to liberate, can sleep. Remain dormant. Then I will not be troubled nor be trouble.
   I am keenly aware of the role that my upbringing has had on my thinking. I no longer experience an obligation to my upbringing. However, I have a vindictive way of using it as an excuse for playing the coward and winning the sympathetic vote. Playing such a game has taken quite a toll on my psyche. So much that it has led me to write this post. A post that is about hypocrisy and also a direct and unwilling statement of social awareness and irresponsibility. A post that bears a vague and unwilling confession.
      I am very much aware of my own personal power, and the power each individual and collective unit has. Despite that, I find every opportunity to allow the opinions of others to dictate my actions and subconscious thinking. I know that I truly truly wish this war would end. The war of contradictory statements, hypocrisy, dishonesty, manipulation, and egoic attachment to all that is material. But I cannot put an end to a battle that I myself am unwilling to fight, let alone an entire war that have so conveniently ignored.