Closer

 Lessons born from this notion have been glaring and apparent this week. Surprised? I sure fucking am not. 

I know it's been months since I last wrote here. It's not for lack or want, or ideas, it's been sheer lack of time and mental bandwidth. School has been rough. Between field placement, and three classes on top of 'regular life' stuffs, to say it's been a challenge is an understatement. But here I am twelve days away from the end of the term. Half way done. Half way from some validation that I'm sure I've internalized in some way. 

But what I really wanted to talk about serves a dual purpose. First, understanding that things shouldn't have to happen to you for it to matter to you. Period. That's it. I realized that I've had far too may people who lack this basic concept as a prominent focal point of life in my circle. I will never forget the times that I heard "well they never did anything to me" from the one I thought would protect me as I was on the receiving end of verbal abuse from another. Years of that took it's toll, and I'm just now unravelling that mess of twine. It's hard. It's really fucking hard. I had found myself angry due to their inaction and inability to look beyond themselves and speak up. 

Then it happened to my son. 

I realized my son was in a position where he needs to be stood up for. While I do with fiery passion, I wish I could say the same for others. I found standing there having to explain that this isn't just a black and white situation, and that good people can do bad things, and vice versa. Then I said "you have to stick up for him." What was the response?

BLANK STARE.

That was it. The dead pan sanpaku eyes staring at me was the answer I needed, and in that very moment, I realized exactly what this meant. The complete inability to stick up for others. This complete passive attitude, demonstrated time and time again coupled with the lack of taking responsibility sat there like a man reduced to nothing but blood and bone, doing what they do best; nothing. In this very moment I realized that this wasn't in fact a me problem, it was a them problem. For so many years I had begged to be stood up for. Heard. Listened to. Acknowledged. Recognized. I remember that feeling of the internal scream that only materialized as a few lonely tears dripping down my face. 

In that moment I stared back. The lack of empathy hung in the air like a newborn spider taking flight for the first time, only failing to launch. The first web sent to the wind to catch only fell through the air like boney fingers. I felt nothing. There was no reflection or thought of "what did I do wrong?" or "why aren't they listening to me?". I instead heard that inner monologue say that they did indeed hear my words, but the shutdown to save the ego was the physical manifestation I saw. Passive. Complete passivity wearing clothes was what I saw. 

It wasn't my fault. It never was my fault. This wasn't something I could fix. There was nothing I could do to ever gain that recognition. NOTHING. This wasn't a me problem, it's a them problem.

This whole scenario reminded me of an Elie Wiesel quote. "We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim."

Not taking sides and acting as a passive neutral being is in fact, taking a side. It's turning a blind eye while sitting on the self placed pedestal claiming to be above it. It's seething in privilege. 

You stand up for what you believe in.

You stand up for those you love and care about. 

You stand when your knees are shaking 

You stand up when your voice wavers. 

You stand up. 

.

Beautiful song for a hard realization