The fact is that people were beaten, jailed, and then some and with full permission from the state itself before we got the right for everyone to vote and black women got the worst of it not being able to vote until 1965.
So when it came time to vote for state representatives this week, I want to tell you that I made sure to be at a poll. However, don’t let these fiery words fool you: that was this year.
A year ago, I didn’t. Two years ago, I didn’t. I think the difference is knowing down to my bones that, regardless of how faulty and broken this system is, I cannot afford to be apathetic when it comes to my participation and critique (toward improvement) of this system. Of this government. Of this country.
I stood outside of the office feeling radicalized; what could have happened to move me so squarely out of believing that “it doesn’t matter, so I guess I’ll ignore it”. The only answer I have so far is blood. Strange fruit. My wish that my neighbors and I will live through this presidency and the feeling that if I don’t step up, we won’t.
Maybe it’s selfish, but that will have to do.