Reflections on a Week of Action in a Life of Action

I've never been one to shy away from a good protest. I've been going to protests and rallies and marches and sit-ins and vigils and celebrations for a very long time. I've walked, I've shouted, I've sat silently holding a candle, I've signed petitions, I've passed petitions, I've written letters, I've written blogs, I've made phone calls, I've knocked on doors.

In High School, in the late '70s, it was mostly anti-Nuke and No War in Central America. Then No War for Oil, No More Wars for Oil, Not Yet Another War for Oil... Clean Air & Water, Gay Pride, No On 8, Occupy, Overturn Citizens United, Women's Rights, Memorial for the Pulse, Memorial for the Tree of Life, No Kids in Cages. I'm sure I've missed a few here, even from just the last few years.

This last week has felt a bit different. How do you protest in a pandemic? How do you go out when you're supposed to stay in? How do you shout when you're winded from the non-stop horrors? But then again, how do you not? How do you remain silent following the murders of George Floyd, Brionna Taylor, and Auhmaud Arbery (and so many more), and just say, "I'm doing the pandemic now. I'll get with you later"?

I took my cues this week from the Movement for Black Lives "Week of Action" website. Each day had a demand, and suggested actions for each day broken down by Safe (yes, you can do it from home, during a pandemic), Medium, or High Risk. I've taken actions each day - some private (such as donations, petitions), some public (social media), and some truly public: yesterday, I did join a rally and march with hundreds of my neighbors.

Today (Saturday)'s theme is Making Meaning from Crisis. This reflections blog is part of my action for the day.

Now I've written this part before, but let me say it again: My life has been probably 98% privilege. I've had my share of incidents with anti-Semites - a lost job (or maybe two), a bloody nose (or maybe three) - but these are rare. In school days, long ago, my preference for longer hair and lack of skill or interest in sports led to a certain amount of anti-gay bullying (despite my not being gay).

But overall, my life has been one of middle-class, white privilege. I've driven away from traffic stops with only a warning and never thought "this is how I die" when I was being pulled over. When shop owners have kept an extra close eye on me I've had the luxury of thinking "what a paranoid ass" instead of "what a racist."

But I also know that justice cannot exist, that all lives will not matter, until we all stand shoulder to shoulder with our neighbors - even in a damned pandemic - and say loudly Black Lives Matter! And say their names: George Floyd, Brionna Taylor, Auhmaud Arbery...