Maybe it is nihilism. Maybe it is realism. Maybe it is pure exhaustion by the barrage of daily chaotic events that feel 250 years in the making, at the same time as we went back in time by hundreds of years. The disappointment I feel is grave.
I am not disappointed in those who are conducting themselves precisely as they told us they would. Afterall, they are living up to the exact expectations we all should have held of them. I am disappointed in the swaths of others, those who always claim to “do what’s right,” or be on “the correct side of history.” It is becoming more taxing by the day to pretend that their silence as things burn faster and brighter, is not complacency, and complicity.
You may take that as you will.
About whatever scenario you envision it for. The sad fact is, there are currently many to choose from.
That is what makes it all the worse.
The fact that we can easily play a game of person-place-thing to quickly check which societal catastrophe we are discussing, or not, and most are choosing the latter. Whether it be a mix of privilege, laziness, concern, or outright petrification, many are too tightly lipped in a time where voices are vital.
One might ask what else could possibly enter the news cycle before people start speaking up? Before, instead of reaching for your Saturday plans, you attend a protest. Before you take the next Instagram outfit photo, you post a bail fund or a link to resources.
I recognize that it takes an enormous amount of gumption, backbone, and some may even say insanity, to fight for the things we believe in. We do not wake up every day hoping or looking for a fight, but sometimes it is brought to our feet.
People love chatting about history as if it is some holy rule book, in the same breath, they love the adage of repeating itself. The enigmatic nature of this conversation has always been lost on me. As a person who does not love contrarianism by nature, this has always felt the ultimate example.
If history is supposed to teach us, why do societies so gleefully acknowledge that it tends to repeat the same cycles?
It always comes down to the same things, complacency, and silence. People will always believe that it cannot happen again. Then when it does, they shriek about how it was never supposed to happen where they are. As if geography is some deciding factor of human calculation.
It is becoming harder to understand the silence of many. The lack of thought for the collective while only focusing on the few is not something I find palatable. Our society has become jaded by phony ideals of Instagram lives and faux activism, that when the real moments show themselves, the same few are called upon to use their voices, while the others get to plan their next outing.
If we really believe in history as our guide, then have we not been taught it takes the collective to stop wrongdoing? It takes good trouble. It takes platforms and voices. It takes peacefully marching in the streets and, as the french have taught us, allowing the garbage to pile so high they just cant take the stench.
They need to be uncomfortable.
While silence seems like comfort, it is only hurting the sphere of good. Claiming to be a good person, “on the right side of history,” only matters if the people you claim to care about are there to see it. It only matters if you put in the work to be on that side.
Speaking things into existence is an adorable concept and all but you must actually open your mouth.