Category: Uncategorized

Am I Real.

I often wonder whether my opinions of myself are just a culmination of the opinions that others have of me. Is my perception of myself and my value based on how I am perceived? We have all been taught to not care about what others think of us, but what if what we think of ourselves is exactly that?

Let’s simplify this idea for a moment. If I were the only person to exist on planet earth, I would probably love myself one hundred percent of the time. I would be so proud of and impressed with myself. I would believe that every word that I speak and action that I do is correct. I would assume that the way I look is the best and only way for a person to look. Obviously, I do appreciate myself now and I do believe that my existence is special, but I must acknowledge that billions of people on this planet likely operate in a completely different, or even opposite, way than I do. Multiple truths can exist at the same time, but we will always have opinions on which truths are right and which are not. At the very least, the opinions that we have of ourselves are based on the opinions that we have of others.

I would love to believe that I am indestructible. I would love to believe that the value that I place in myself is unwavering, but I would be lying if I said that this were the case. Thankfully, I am surrounded by the best people, and for the most part, they do uplift me. At the same time, I cannot always control what I read and whom I meet. Some people will be rude or judgmental, and while their words could be bred from insecurities, they still hurt. We are not protected from the expressions that we see on another person’s face as we are talking to them, and we cannot control what is said about us behind closed doors. People say upsetting things when they are angry or jealous or confused, and we can internalize these sentiments within the blink of an eye.

The internal battle stems from this: I know that I am a kind person, but do I only know that because others have told me that I am? Am I only pretty or attractive because other people decided that I am? If, God forbid, everyone told me that I am worthless, would I still believe that I have value? In many ways, we have seen this type of nurturing, or lack thereof, manifest through the wonderful and horrible things that human beings have done.

I do not really have an answer to the questions that I have posed and I also do not have a solidified conclusion as to whether my perception of myself is rooted in how others perceive me. I will likely never know, and maybe we are supposed to spend our lives working toward indestructible self acceptance. Maybe we should just believe whatever helps us sleep at night.

The Happy Medium.

If one were to ask me how I envisioned my ideal relationship five years ago, I would have said that I dream of a whirlwind romance similar to those in romantic and drama-filled movies. I wanted the rush and the suspense and the heartbreak and the tension alongside the ultimate happy ending. I wanted the most soul crushing song to play as I yearned for the love of my life in desperation, and I wanted the textbook, cheesy moves to cushion the scene.

In many respects, I have experienced this type of fire and ice relationship, and as riveting as the stories are to hear, they are not always the most fun to tell. For the most part, the romances that we see in our favorite movies, television shows, and books are toxic and unhealthy regardless of their positive endings. As much as I remark about the cinematic nature of some of the experiences that I have had, I also remind myself that we watch movies for entertainment. Love looks and feels different for everyone, and sparks can still fly even when a relationship has a calmness to it. A little bit of peace exists in knowing that your relationship is not the latest gossip or does not to be unpacked.

People will ask me how my current relationship is going and other than saying that everything is going well, I do not have much else to report. I have noticed that people usually have more to say about their relationships when they have concerns or worries about them. I could write novels about the relationships that I have had before this one and they would probably be bestsellers, but I feel so much better now. My relationship encompasses reason and accountability, and the love that we have for each other places our individual happinesses at its foundation. I do not feel like I have to fight for the happy ending; the happy ending will naturally arrive. Obviously, my relationship is not perfect and the seas can be a little bumpy at times, but I am always able to maintain my balance.

My past experiences have definitely influenced the way that I handle or react to things that happen now. For the most part, I am just better at knowing myself and what I need from my partner. I am better at communicating these needs as well. I value myself and I advocate for myself. In the past, I always felt as though my partner and I were on opposing teams and it was unpleasant. I now genuinely believe that Neeraj and I strive to achieve the best possible outcome for our relationship.

I have grown to value the quiet moments and the happy medium. Instead of writing from pain, I write from joy. I still find myself dreaming about that whirlwind romance from the movies, but then I remember how grateful I am to have the relationship that I have. I blanket myself in the ease of my relationship and shudder at the thought of the past version of myself crumpled on the floor. I still have the flowers and the cute dates and mushy moments despite no longer having the drama and the heartbreak and the manipulation. My relationship is exactly where it should be.

Too Proud to be Homesick.

A lot of people have told me that they “love” Boston, but honestly, I do not fully understand it. I do not feel the love. While I experience the occasional gem, I often feel frustration. This city glorifies the idea of having highs and lows, but I think that one could learn a lot from living in it.

Many know that I was excited to move away from Minnesota and I have always felt that my purpose extends further than my home state. I love traveling and exploring new places. I love meeting new people. I am still excited to be here, but I really do miss home. I miss the familiarity. I miss my friends and family. I feel a strange sense of nostalgia for knowing a place, as though it is the back of my hand, even though I have been looking forward to learning about a new one. Given that I am in graduate school and have only lived here for about five weeks, I have not had that many opportunities to explore the area. I look forward to doing so as the fall season unfolds, and I hope to find some pockets of joy or solace here.

I have met a lot of amazing people so far, but I feel like they do not fully know me right now. The ways in which I connect with folks in Minnesota are so different than how I do here. I enjoy vulnerability and I want that to run deeply within all of my new friendships, but I know that all good things take time. I also know that my environment is influenced by the people whom I have around me and I want to flourish socially while I am here. I find so much beauty in the differing life experiences that my friends have, and I just hope that we all continue to root for each other throughout the next couple of years. A part of me still feels as though I am making first impressions and I want to ensure that I am making stellar ones. In graduate school, and especially in Boston, everyone is at a different stage in their life, and this can allow for some snap judgments rather than giving each person the benefit of the doubt. The transition is very different from undergrad as we do not have a welcome week or plethora of student groups, live in residence halls, or are given time to acclimate. Collectively, we are all lost over ninety percent of the time (literally and figuratively) and we just take swings with the hope that we see some home runs.

I think that the University of Minnesota, and living in the Twin Cities generally, spoiled me with the view of the Minneapolis/St. Paul skylines. One can see them from almost any location. I used to walk to class and remark at how thankful I am to see Minneapolis skyline every day. When I step outside of my Boston apartment, I do not have this same feeling. I do see a lot of babies and dogs, both of whom I love, but one has to either be intentional about seeing amazing views in Boston or spend a lot of money to live in a prime location. I have had moments that remind me of why I am here and how wonderful life is, but these moments do not happen as frequently as I would like. I would argue that this city is not super navigable or accessible for walking, driving, and taking public transportation (really just any form of movement that gets someone from point A to point B), so energy is required to view and experience the “gems” that I mentioned previously.

I have been feeling pretty ashamed of my homesickness. I am embarrassed to admit it because of the pride that I felt in starting a new chapter. I still feel proud and hopeful, but I do not thrive every day. Graduate school work is time consuming, sometimes the bus is thirty minutes late, and money is emptied from your pockets in the blink of an eye. I yearned to push myself outside of my comfort zone and I have, so I definitely do not have regrets. I just hope that, over time, I fall in love with where I am.

I do not know if Boston is the city for me, and I do think that those who do love it have only been exposed to parts of it, but it is my city for now. I am sure that my perspective will change with time, and I look forward to updating everyone as this occurs. Despite all of the confusion, I trust myself and my intuition more than anything, and this provides me with a little bit of comfort while I am discovering my place here.

A Love Letter to Minnesota.

I have been in Boston for a few weeks now! While I have been taking time to adjust to my new home, I have also had the opportunity to reflect on my experiences prior to my arrival on the East coast. For the most part, I was born and raised in the state of Minnesota. I completed my undergraduate degree there. I had my first full time job after college in Minnesota, and now I have moved away from it. While I have traveled plenty and seen much of the world, settling in a new city is an entirely different ball game. The following paragraphs entail just a few thoughts regarding my home state. I am sure that I could say much more, but these are the first points that come to mind.

I think that Minnesota is a great place for children to grow if they have the right resources. In my case, I did, and I was able to live in a relatively safe environment. The state is home to some of the best education, and educational standards as a result, in the country, but also has some of the greatest disparities between communities regarding these standards. My high school was one of the best in Minnesota and living in Rochester, with access to the Mayo Clinic and other amazing organizations, provided a lot of opportunities. Of course, not every day encompassed sunshine and rainbows, and I think we would see some interesting results regarding mental health and the pressures that children feel to pursue certain careers (Rochester is a very STEM based town, and my high school definitely channeled this energy). Over all, raising a family there is a pretty safe bet.

I have alluded to this previously, but I was dead set on attending a university outside of Minnesota. I did apply to a couple of schools within Minnesota (obviously including the University of Minnesota – Twin Cities) just for the sake of doing so. I applied to ten places in total, and I was fortunate enough to be accepted to most of them, but for some reason, I had so much trouble deciding on the best path for myself. I felt a sort of comfort as I was walking around the UMN campus; the people and the energy of the area felt familiar to me. The university felt like home. Looking back, I am guessing that this is partly why I had so much trouble committing anywhere else. If we fast forward to late August of 2016, we will see a seventeen year old Natasha moving into her freshman residence hall on the west bank of the UMN campus.

Honestly, I loved my time at the U of M. I thrived (mostly). I accomplished so much more than I imagined that I would and this is because I made the decision to make the most of my college experience. I think that I grew even more grateful for this pocket of the world. Looking at the Minneapolis skyline while walking across the Washington Avenue or Stone Arch bridges still takes my breath away (even after looking at it multiple times every single day for the past few years) and I enjoyed exploring the nooks of St. Paul when I had the chance.

I have mentioned this in previous posts, but love and accountability coexist. I think that Minnesotans have a lot of history and trauma to address in relation to the last couple of years as well as in a general sense of history. I also think that an ease exists in ignoring all of this under the guise of Midwest niceties. Saying “ope, sorry” every five seconds or even having the highest voter turnout rate in the country does not wash away the injustices that marginalized populations face. Black people are still being murdered, Indigenous women are still missing, and pipelines are still being built. I urge my Minnesotan readers to step outside of their comfort zones and ask themselves how they can redistribute their time, energy, and/or wealth.

I also urge my non-Minnesotan readers to consciously negate the assumption that Minnesota is a monolith. Yes, Minnesota is snowy and cold, but the state can also be very hot in the summers. Minnesota does not have earthquakes or hurricanes. It is a home for many different refugee and immigrant communities and offers some of the best healthcare (again, not to everyone). It has produced amazing artists, and the art and music scenes are only growing. It is a land of second chances and wilderness and rivers hot dish and flannel. The state has some of the best women’s sports teams and athletes in the country.

As excited as I was to leave and as much as I believe that my purpose transcends Minnesota’s state lines, I do miss it. I do love it. It has its faults and its charms, and I definitely think that the state, and the people within it, could use a lot of growth. Minnesota will always provide a bit of comfort for me and while I do not envision myself living there permanently, I will always be more than happy to visit.

Sending lots of love to my home state.

Toxic.

I am referring to all types of relationships in the following paragraphs: romantic, friendly, familial, professional, and more.

We have such a hard time with saying goodbye to toxic people. We are encouraged to use pleasantries and always say “yes,” and we often lose ourselves and our own happiness within that. As an extrovert who is generally pretty bubbly and positive, I have morphed into a doormat in too many relationships. This only results in hurting myself and causing a lot of anxiety. I have never really had a friendship falling out, but like anyone else, I have gradually drifted away from people. I realized that these individuals did not add to my life and did not value me in the way that I valued them only months or years after the drift.

We are all aware of the following points, but we hesitate to reflect and act upon them. I think that this is partly due to how we frame them, so I have done my best to define them in a way that works for me. I have only listed a few here, but I think that a lot of other points could stem from these. (in no particular order)
– While some viewpoints may differ, your overarching morals should align. I know that many people can somehow skirt around this, but this is not as easy to do if your relationships have depth to them.
– I have listed a few questions to ask yourself in relation to the first point. What would those around you say if you chose to get an abortion, join a union, attend a protest, quit your job and pursue your art, or accidentally pee your pants?
Even if they would not do these things personally, they should support your agency. This being said, your loved ones do have the right to tell you if they think that your decision is going to cause harm to yourself, them, or the over all community. Support and accountability go hand in hand. If your decisions are causing harm or making others uncomfortable, those individuals have the right to leave (both the situation and your friendship).
What would they say if you told them that you experienced racism, sexism, homophobia, or harassment? Would they support you or would they make you feel worse? Would they be willing to avoid visiting a place, or stop supporting a person or cause for your wellbeing and safety?
– You should be able to spend time apart. Boundaries are so important in all types of relationships, and one person cannot be another person’s saving grace. Loved ones can take part in your healing, but they cannot be responsible for its existence. You have to want to be helped to be helped.
– You should be growing along side one another and be happy for each other’s accomplishments.
– If they schedule a time to spend with you, you should be their priority. They should not be scrolling through their phone.
– Pay attention to who shows up for you in your times of need and in your times of celebration.
– The people in your life should be honest with you, and their honesty should come from a place of love rather than hate or envy. I think that insecurities and jealousy are normal, but being transparent about them is better than projecting them onto those around you. Additionally, if your relationship is having issues, be willing to talk through them rather than brushing them under the rug.
– You should feel your best around your friends and partners and after leaving them. In the moment, I might feel okay around certain people, but after I leave the hangouts, I often have uneasy and anxious feelings weighing on me. You should ask yourself if you feel lighter and happier after interacting with the people in your life. The moment that this changes, do not be afraid to ask yourself why.

From an outside perspective, we are all able to recognize toxicity in an instant, but this is harder to do when you have to consider the relationship that you have built and the history that you have with someone else. Necessity exists in recognizing that toxicity is a state of being; one may not be a toxic person just because they play a toxic role in your life specifically. It might even be fair to say that both people contribute to the toxic energy or were toxic at points in the relationship, and this does not make either individual a “bad” person.

We also worry about losing the connections. Just remember that you do not need to maintain a connection with every person you meet because enough room exists for you, and everyone else, to succeed without it. We pressure ourselves with the idea of competition and we push ourselves to accept toxicity because of it. We have been fed that some will make it and others will not, and we do not know who our bosses could be one day. This is just frustrating. What do bosses matter if you are jeopardizing your peace? Is working at that one specific organization really worth it if you could have just as much, or even more, success at another? As I stated previously, your entire life cannot sit in the hands of one person as that one person alone will not be able to carry it. While a lot of injustices exist in this world, I do think that we are also guilty of using the excuse that our hands are tied when we could take the initiative and leave what is not serving us.

Growth is not a bad thing, so do not make it out to be. Some paths diverge and some join. We do not have to be close with everyone, and we do not have to put ourselves through the discomfort of trying to do so. I write all of this as someone who falls into this mindset often, but I also have learned to trust my intuition. The only person who can tell me whether a situation or person adds to my life is myself.

What a World.

Despite a pandemic from which millions of people have suffered and are suffering, oceans on fire and ice caps melting, people being murdered, racism remaining rampant, pipelines being built, young and poor folks in never-ending debt, and technological vortexes swallowing us wholly, we are expected to wake up every morning and sit in a classroom or at our nine to five jobs. If we do not have either, we experience sleepless nights during due to unemployment. We are expected to perform our tasks well and respond to every email in a respectable amount of time. We are expected to do all of this while making sure that we eat, exercise, and look our best. We are expected to have amazing relationships and form picture perfect memories every weekend. We are expected to be well-read (whatever this means) and keep up with pop culture. We are expected to check in on our friends and be there for them in their downfalls. We are expected to do all of this with sound minds. Couple this with any health problems, disabilities, or having vaginas and everything becomes a little more lemony.

If we reduce, reuse, and recycle, the ocean will stop burning, right? Right, because the day that I forgot to compost my banana peels is why we are in this predicament – not the corporations exploiting the environment and their workers while their CEOs sit atop billions of dollars. Personal responsibility is important, but the collective is too. Collective consumption from brands that market everything as cheap and affordable is commonplace in the cyclical pursuit of survival.

This same thought process is given to everything else. If everyone shares the same Instagram infographic, the world will be absolved of racism. If our resumes are formatted well, we will be hired immediately. If we exercise for thirty minutes every day and eat some fruit, our mental illnesses will be cured with the snap of our fingers. We tell ourselves to journal, tweet, or podcast away all of these worries because these will all be great stories to tell when we’re in better places.

With parts of the world opening themselves to the public again, I find myself overwhelmed (and I am an extrovert!). The virus and its variants are still present, but we are suddenly thrown back into society as though the pandemic did not exist. Obviously, we have to move forward, but are we approaching the matter in the safest way possible? I do not know how I am supposed to respond to emails while this is looming over me, in addition to the never-ending news regarding our planet and the violence it, and its inhabitants, face. One would probably recommend that I take a break from all of the things that cause my anxiety, but how does one take a break from this world? Even if I did not read it on the news, I would see it in the streets.

Of course, this is not about me or any one specific person. We all have tough days or even months or years, but we forget this and, like I have stated in previous posts, view each other as commodities. We expect so much from one another and internalize it so deeply that we expect twice as much from ourselves. On a personal note, I am doing as much as I can to prepare for my move to Boston while also seeing as many friends as possible before I depart. On a global note, I am constantly in panic regarding the state of our earth. Everyone is worried about this, but nothing changes. I know that people and corporations with power and money see the same disasters that I see, but I also know that they are comfortable, likely not as young as I am, and enjoy “circling back” and “following up” and “workshopping the language” rather than actually acting.

I just think, after the past year and a half, that we should be better at giving each other grace than we currently are. So much suffering is happening right before our eyes, but we are expected to submit our timesheets without any accessible support to keep going. We fold into the darkest parts of ourselves, but plaster smiles on our faces when the Zoom meeting starts.

This post might be all over the place, but it is just a tiny reflection of how I (and I assume a lot of others) am feeling. Humans can handle a lot of stress and trauma, but we should not have to do so every single day. We all deserve the very best.

I Feel Small.

I share my thoughts and opinions, often based in fact, and they are invalidated. As soon as he shares the same thoughts and opinions, everyone is ready to adopt them. They are even considered revolutionary, but I expressed the same takes last week. I am never right, but if he repeats exactly what I say in a louder voice, he is praised. My research is diminished to meaningless letters and numbers, and my feelings do not matter, so I spend more time wondering which aspects of myself do matter.

I am always interrupted. Apparently, I need to be opinionated, but not opinionated enough to have bodily autonomy. I cannot be too fat or too skinny. My hair is too thick or too curly. My legs and my hips have to be “just right,” but I do not know what “right” is. They will honk when I run or whistle when I walk because I am viewed as an opportunity rather than a human being.

I cannot be smart, but I cannot be dumb. My music taste is not cool enough, or is too cool to be acknowledged. I cannot be too emotional, but I am a bitch if I do not cry at my wedding or refuse to share a laugh and smile with every man who has taken advantage of me. Cookie cutter femininity is desired, but I am teased and told to shut my mouth when I do not know anything about the football game on the television screen.

I ask what I can be and I am told that I can be nothing. I can make myself as small as possible. I feel as though I do not deserve to exist as I am, all that I am, in this world.

And they will tell you that they are feminists. They will tell you that they admire strong women. What they really mean to say is that they admire strong women as long as they are weaker than their counterparts, and they are only feminists for straight white women who choose to stay at home. They grow angry when we start demanding compensation. They run away from sex workers and trans women and bisexual women and women of color, but will exoticize these groups when they grab beers with the boys.

The patriarchy bleeds into misogyny. It is so subtle, but it is there when you exit the meeting room with an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. It is there when you feel the slightest touch in the wrong place. It is there when they give him the check or the tool box or the car keys.

But we can do everything that they can do and more. Enjoy the show (as long as you pay us).

Face.

you’ll hear someone say that they want their face to forever be the one that their partner sees as they open their eyes every morning
or the face that they see standing across from them on their wedding day

but i want more than that

i want my face to be the one that inspires you
the one that pushes you to climb that mountain or run that mile
the one that sparks your idea for the world’s next technological advancement
the one that writes your songs for you
the one that beams when you receive an award or promotion
the one that cheers when you quit your toxic job and smiles when you say that you do not have a plan
the one that kisses your cheeks at any given moment
the one that makes your pupils dilate
the one that stops your breathing and has you breathing deeply at the same time

my face should be the one crossing your mind at random moments
while you are eating that bagel
or washing that mug
or reading that book
or driving through that town
or eating your vitamin gummies

i do not want to leave any room for my face to be forgotten
and maybe it is selfish
but my i want my face to mean more than the clichés and the instagram comments
i want my face to change your life

A Million and One Flip Turns.

If we’re assessing speed, I was a pretty average swimmer. My technique was great, but I was never in a place to go for the gold. This being said, I would not have wanted to participate in anything else as my primary sport while I was growing.

A part of me is always hesitant in writing about swimming because I feel as though I am an imposter. I know plenty of folks who continued to swim in college, and plenty who participated in junior nationals and the Olympic trials. I did not do any of these things, and I was not even close to doing any of these things, but the sport still means a lot to me. One can see it in the way I talk about it or while I am teaching others how to swim. Swimming is a life sport, and I truly believe that everyone should at least know the basics. In my opinion, it is important for survival.

The resilience that swimming requires extensive. We’re talking a five am wake up to plunge yourself into cold water for three hours. Your goggles or cap breaks during a race and you keep swimming. You run into the lane line or, god forbid, smack heads or hands with another swimmer while doing backstroke and you keep swimming. Your hair freezes in the winter and all of your things may smell slightly of chlorine, but you are back at the pool the next day. You slip and fall on deck, you feel embarrassed, and then you stand up and keep walking (don’t run!). You swim thousands of yards, and then you swim thousands more. You have spun yourself into too many flip turns to count (and you’re, surprisingly, not at all dizzy), and then you flip too many more. For those of you who are wondering, yes, swimmers do sweat. Our cheeks can flush and our bodies can feel warm in the water if we’re working hard enough (which, as a competitive swimmer, was always). Though it may seem obvious, swimmers truly do understand the phrase “just keep swimming.” It holds a different meaning for us.

Although I run a lot more now, and do more dry land workouts in general, I still try to swim occasionally (at least pre-COVID pandemic). Every time I do, I realize how much I miss it. Every time I walk, drive, or fly past a body of water, all I want to do is swim. I think back to my swimming days with a lot of nostalgia. Even though swimming is an “individual” sport, one can never grow closer to a group of people. The energy at a swim practice or meet is unparalleled, and this makes sense as we all have to cheer a bit louder considering the races, well, happen in the water. You do an open turn during breaststroke or butterfly and you have friends screaming, practically in your face, to keep going.

Swimmers work their entire bodies. They can pull muscles and have severe injuries, and their shoulders are pretty broad. The sport can be scary to watch at times, but it is also beautiful. The ripples in the water and the perfect butterfly stroke can compensate for all of the negatives. Swimmers’ legs and feet work so much just under the surface of the water, and all of this is invisible to the standard eye. We had pancake tans from swimming outside in the summer, and we would always joke that the football team could not get through one of our practices.

The best part about swimming, though, is the fact that it taught me so many life lessons. I know that a lot of sports do this, but I learned to visualize, which is an important part of calming one’s mind and meditation, from swimming. Imagining oneself gliding through water provides a new level of tranquility. I exercised my math skills during every practice while counting laps or calculating time, and I could (and still can) do all of this quickly. Practices did, quite literally, consist of quick maths. The sport also pushed me in so many ways that I did not know I could be. I would be awake at five am and head over to the pool for a couple of hours. I would come back after school and swim even more. I would swim thousands of yards and then head to my next extra-curricular activities, and I would do my homework on top of all of that. Would I dive into a pool at five thirty or six am anymore? Probably not, but at least I know that my mind and my body can do it. The pool was the best, and my personal favorite, tissue. I could cry and no one would even notice because we were all immersed in water. I could be so angry at the world and express all of it through my strokes and kicks. My first job entailed teaching kids how to swim, and I learned that I really love doing so.

I learned that even though we were all participating in the same practices and meets, we all viewed success and felt pressure differently. I learned to be okay with not being the best, or anywhere near it, and I recognized that not being the fastest swimmer gave me so much opportunity to excel in other aspects of my life (and I think that I have!) while still holding the sport close to me.

Keep your pools cold and your hearts warm.

Don’t Worry, We’ve Seen the Data.

Why, after centuries of injustice and violence, are we still pulling up statistics and stories to explain the existence of said injustice and violence? Why do I have to find articles to explain that humans deserve to live and have basic human rights? I have literally sent friends and past partners articles, including graphs, because they did not believe that people of color experience racism or that white privilege exists. Apparently, my words, or the words of the community, are not enough. Apparently, a picture or video taken and seen by the masses is not enough. The “profits over people” squads asked us for the facts and figures, and now those are not enough. Is this not bizarre?

Why do folks find so much difficulty in believing us when we are screaming from the rooftops and asking for drastic change? How many people need to become statistics, how many books have to be published, how many films have to be created for folks to be convinced? We have repeatedly seen that tragedies have to occur and become commodified for our family members, let alone those in power, to even send a generic tweet.

I do not need to provide you with the facts when you have access to the internet and books. Marginalized groups do not have to defend their experiences by quantifying themselves when you could easily do the research on your own. At this point, an unfortunate plenty of people have relived their traumas just to send a message to those who will never understand, and their stories are easily discoverable. Beyond that, how many facts and figures do one need to realize that people are suffering, and we should be doing something about it?

I often think about the number of papers in which I have been required to discuss a human rights issue with the standard of “if you can support your claim, you will receive a good grade.” If one really thinks about this concept, does it not seem a bit twisted? Our first instinct is to question one’s credibility instead of simply believing them and finding a solution. At the end of the day, how much is the millionth dissertation on the prevalence of racism, for example, going to differ from the hundreds of thousands before it?

The dependency on research, when so much has already been conducted, to enact change is honestly disrespectful. It erases the experiences of so many people, let alone the people themselves, and only pushes them and their communities further into grief.

We are all exhausted and we do not have any more words. I have mulling with frustration over these thoughts for a while, and of course I know that folks do not believe us because they do not want to believe us. I feel as though a lot of you will relate.

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