losing to racists

only after i made it loud and clear that i didn't want to talk about politics or what's on the news or this election or anything that nears controversy did someone feel compelled to bring up race. not only race, but their racist theory on how black culture is a culture that likes to keep itself down and doesn't want to succeed or work hard or chase after opportunities.

i had been trying to keep my head in the sand. how many times can i beat my head against the walls of politics, racism, and social media till i realize i've said my peace? everyone knows where i stand. why beat my head against the wall any longer? my head hurts and i just wanna take a break from it all.

i know that sounds irresponsible and coming from a place of privilege. and i'd be hard pressed to debate either point. but i feel like i'm a dude who screamed till his throat went hoarse. what good is yelling gospels at dummies if my voice is absent? i need a break, a time to heal the soreness. when i feel my throat is up to code, i assure you i'll be back to yelling gospels at dummies once more.

but last night was not that night. i was beaten into submission. a white man cornered me and it was just the two of us and i attempted to politely joust opinions that were different from his but he wasn't having it. it was the last conversation i wanted to have. maybe i shouldn't have left the house. if i'm not ready to fight for what i stand for, then i should never leave my cave because that fight is waiting around every corner and i knew i had no fight in me last night. somewhere in the middle of things, i tuned out as he blabbered on about bootstraps and how his racist views didn't make him a racist.  i  stared at the clock, waiting on time to pass, waiting for an opportune moment to leave, to excuse myself, to go home.

i found that moment and pulled a, "well, will you look at the time," and excused myself. i left. i ran away from a fight. last night i played the coward because i didn't wanna handle having to leave my comfort zone. i came home to hide from the racism, the news cycle, the politics, all of it, like a turtle ducking into his shell. it all started to hit me hard on my drive home. i felt defeated, deflated, and disappointed all at once. disappointed in myself but also disappointed that i have to once again find the strength in me to accept that the world can still very much be an awful and disgusting place and as much as i'd like to ignore it, i can't. it won't go away. i have to fight against it.

today i'm a fighter. i woke up with a fury in my belly. but no amount of courage and good intention going forward will ever make up for yesterday. it'll stay there in my past forever, like a fighter with a loss that'll always itch at him no matter how many wins he can string together. it'll always claw at my psyche as a blunt reminder that there are times in life when being fragile is not an option.