My People, Not My People
Clean lines. Work you love. Handled with care, packaged with pride.
That’s what good work is.
The recent indictment of Officer Peter Liang brought mixed emotions. It seemed – maybe – a step in the right direction for accountability in the wretched systems of this world. I was gutted, though. To me, it just looked like another abstract example of systemic racism. How convenient to finally indict a law enforcement member who happens to be a minority. How awfully, disgustingly convenient for an event to happen allowing us utter the word “justice.” The wool is still over our eyes.
The anger made me dig a little deeper. How can I be frought over racial injustice when there is hypocrisy in my own life, in my own building?
I can start by learning the history of my block and my neighborhood. I can smile at my immigrant neighbors and getting to know who they are as people with souls and real human struggles, instead of the caricatures I’ve been fed about them. Keeping the wool over my eyes isn’t helping anyone. And that’s what I always speak about, right? Being kind, understanding, malleable enough that others find comfort in you.
Stone cold is a hard temperature to thaw.