When the pandemic started, I observed that our society was unceremoniously being shown the cracks in our foundation. Specific areas had become incredibly dysfunctional and were obviously in desperate need of dramatic, multi-layered healing.
The nationwide explosion of heartbreak and anger over the last couple weeks has highlighted in a new way the severe cracks that have been there for an unimaginably long time. The awful ramifications of this instability, this fissure, remain with us.
Racism is not in the past, no, not at all.
I knew this intellectually, and yet I still didn’t get it. I didn’t get how insidious it continues to be on a daily basis for people of color, nor how compounded the injustices become from generation to generation. The extent to which the harm of racism flows through our inherited attitudes, our finite-mindset institutions, our hidden assumptions, our careless words, our unintentional silence.
Our silence. My silence. I never had any intention of talking about racism publicly, because it felt political, and not my issue.
That’s done and over with.
Black lives matter, without exception.
My area of influence is not politics and never will be. But I am an artist, and I have a heart for supporting artists. So as a start, I intend to begin to intentionally highlight and encourage black artists and their work, known and unknown, past and present. For their lives matter and their voices also matter.
How are you going to help heal the cracks in the foundation?
One response to “Cracks in the Foundation”
Powerful and sincere.