This is me not posting.
I’ve got a war inside myself right now and everything just feels too raw.
So I will stare at the pieces I’m not sure I am ready to post and not share them right now.
This is me not posting.
Today is a hard day.
Not for me in particular, but to deny the reality of police brutality or the fight to protect water is beyond me today.
What did I intend to write today? I intended to eviscerate the coward scum at the Ohio Department of Health who, finally, after eight months, got back to me about our daughter’s birth certificate we had requested in January. Their response: We can’t. We just can’t. They can give us half a birth certificate – exactly how helpful that is supposed to be is beyond me – or refund our money. Then they cite ittle bitty trinkets of law that are supposed to be why their hands are tied. Except they explain nothing. All it shows is that they are cowards because those laws show that Ohio courts are not allowed to order the Department of Health to issue said birth certificiate, not that the DoH can’t issue such birth certificates themselves. The real issue? Someone is afraid of the conservative nasties coming after them. Too bad.
Because now they’ll have us nasties coming after them.
That’s what I was going to write about.
But a man was shot for reading a book in his car while waiting for his child’s school day to end. And another man was shot for having the gall to have a car break down on the highway. And Skittles, always Skittles. And I watched our local veterinarian berate a Black woman and it took me two days to figure out how I should have intervened.
And our native peoples seem to be the only ones who care about protecting our sacred water. I have someone continually asking, “Who is coming to Standing Rock next?!” I couldn’t take it! As I sat there, thinking through the idea of getting myself there, I realized that I had not discussed this with my children at all yet. I have discussed a great many things with them, but this, no. It felt somewhat overwhelming because I thought, “There’s so much history to explain! I want them to understand all of it!” I went online to find how other people were talking about it to their children…and I came up with nothing.
No really, go look. I’ll wait.
Right?! My sister being a teacher and experienced with writing curriculum, I asked her, could you help me come up with something to talk to our kids about Standing Rock? Then I went on Facebook – are you talking to your kids about this? And people wanted to see what I put together for my kids. So my sister and I, with an army of helpers, are creating a curriculum around the issues of Standing Rock for young children (elementary aged).
In moments of anguish, it feels like I am doing something. And the world feels just a little less heinous.