I Deviate

Confessions* of
“an older, white woman” **
A struggling attempt

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I Deviate

Work these days
consists mainly of
word choices
page breaks
300 dpi cover photo construction
margin justifications
publishing standards:
Book Release.

But
I deviate.
Stop.
Shift focus
to
mourn
pray
weep
rage
lament
pound my desk
agonize
all
because of
NINE people
attacked
brutalized
dehumanized
slain.
#Charleston

These NINE
represent
hundreds
thousands
countless
who have gone
similarly.
Unjustly.
Brutally.
IN COLD BLOOD.

Deviate:
to branch off
be sidetracked
diverge
digress
detour.
The very
realization that
I
CAN
DEVIATE
is in itself
admission
of
#whiteprivilege

Black
churchgoers
family members
legislative representatives
employees
clergy
athletic coaches
professors
mothers
grandmothers
fathers
grandfathers
drivers
shoppers
students
sons
daughters
…
any human designation
that can be listed
CANNOT
DEVIATE.

CANNOT!

When the news
gets to be
too much
too gruesome
too graphic
too torturous
I CAN–
I have the ability to
change the channel
exit newsfeeds
get some work done
I am in a
position
to say:
I can’t take it anymore
I must
think about something else.
Yes, I can do that.
#whiteprivilege

I choose,
therefore,
to groan
with you
knowing that
those of
you whose
flesh and blood
lie in pools
of blood
cannot
move beyond the blood
because the
blood cries in the streets.

What have you done?
Divine words
query the
murderer described
in the religious
narrative
after killing
his own flesh and blood.

What have you done?
His blood cries out to heaven.

No,
don’t move on
too quickly.
Consider.
Ponder.
Answer:
What have you done?
WHAT?
YOU?
ME?

Calling too
quickly for all
to forgive
reconcile
restore peace
live in unity
denies the blood
that cries.
That blood
still warm
involuntarily
spilled
forced to
surrender
its life-giving
vibrancy
hope
love.

Crying to heaven.
What have you done?

I deviate.
It is
a choice
while you
don’t have one.
I choose to
stand with
those who
feel
reel from
face
fear
live and
stumble in
stagger under
the weight
of a burden
not of your choosing.
I am humbled
by
those
of you
who
rise
despite
unspeakable
terror and
injustice
to carry on.
Survive and thrive
standing as a
beacon of
strength and hope.
Courage.

But I deviate.
Because
I could

…. I truly could
move on as if
nothing had changed.
I CAN
ignore the
earth reaching
a saturation
point
with the blood
of people
who have been
knocked down
chained down
beaten down
cursed down
and mowed down.
I CAN
I COULD.
#whiteprivilege

But
I won’t.

I deviate.

“By your words you shall be acquitted or condemned…”
Words well known to churchgoers.

My life consists of words
I changed
literal “words” in the 11th hour …
yesterday
…just before sending the
manuscript off to be
published.
I wept over my
keyboard
searched my own soul
grasped for
nuances that may
inflict injury
incite malice
fuel hatred.
Because you see,
I can change the words.
My words.
The rhetoric
spoken
written
published.

As if words change anything!
Oh, but they do.

Words change everything
Words seep into our souls
Form in us either compassion
self-justification
hatred
love
empathy
and every other human emotion.

Words are used
to rationalize
justify
lecture
condemn
construe
avoiding some words
while choosing others
to define
defend
decry
denounce
victim,
action
and
criminal.
Words can–
subtly or
blatantly–
change the focus.
If words are
not–read–
IF words are
not drowned in
pools of blood.
On the street
on a playground
in a store
in a church.
Anywhere.
#whiteprivilege

So I do not deviate
at all
for my work
consists of
word choices.
Words are my
vehicle
justice my
navigation system
passion my
fuel.

***

* to be understood (as a very partial response) from within the context of the United States, simply because I have not had the time / opportunity to adequately reflect on what this means globally.
**a descriptor used by one workshop participant I had some years ago.