An essay on America 2020

An essay on AMERICA 2020

2020. This year was supposed to be the year of new, fresh starts. Instead, it is really the year of perfect vision. However, I am not sure I like what I see. As I write this , U2's Bono plays, says in his live recording "America is not just a country, but it is an idea." Well, I'm feeling we might be in need of refocusing, redirecting, and re-imagining our ideas of what America means in 2020. When I am seeing elements of Fascism as a through-line in our current Administration, when nurses, doctors and scientists are getting silenced on mainstream media, when the perspective of what being a "Patriot" means revolves around the white, Anglo-Christian ideal, when misogyny and sexism and patriarchy is the cornerstone of our American "Ideal", I worry that there will be no room for anyone who doesn't fit this ideal. I am white, I come from an upper-middle class upbringing. I am fortunate enough to have a family who made sure I had the best education and best international experiences that my parents could offer. I am extremely grateful for what my parents gave me. They also gave me the choice to go to one of the best private schools for girls in the nation, the same one Gloria Vanderbilt went to, or they gave me the choice to go to a public school but also supplement it with a program for the arts in an urban environment. Because of my love of the arts, I chose an upper middle class public school tied with the chance to go to an additional magnet school for arts. This arts program, then called Greater Hartford Academy of the Arts, was located in the center of my state's capitol, about one and a half blocks from an urban high school, of which we shared the theater. It is most obviously, a city. A city with communities of color. Being in that environment, I learned how to interact with people in the community who did not look like me or come from the same socioeconomic background. To be honest, some interactions were good, some weren't-- but I realized it depended on the person. My classmates also were from various socioeconomic backgrounds, but also had one common thread, a love of the performing arts. BEING IN THAT ENVIRONMENT SAVED MY LIFE AND MY SANITY. It also forced me to think differently, see other people's perspective, and MEET PEOPLE AND CARE ABOUT PEOPLE WHO DID NOT LOOK LIKE ME. This was essential for my development. I learned so much. I learned about all cultures, especially traditional African culture and dance. I was exposed to all types, including LGBTQ, trans and questioning people, and people of color. I credit this environment with making me who I am today, and what a blessing. I am forever thankful that my parents offered this program to me. I happened to be a very shy and perfectionist young woman, who had problems with mental illness, anxiety and depression. If I didn't have the opportunity to meet people who were 'different' in thoughts and attitudes, who simply did not care about what people thought of them, then I might not have made it through my teen years alive. I also was questioning my sexuality, but didn't know it yet, really. Yet, being around a LGBT community in the early 90's, when that wasn't really talked about in my regular community, at first shocked and appalled me, but then broke down my own homophobia, and also allowed me to feel safe among people who thought 'differently' than my own community. Later I realized, much much later, I realized that I actually fit into that community,in my own little way as an openly bi cis woman. The reason why I wrote the large paragraph above is to show how I also had to break down my bias, my hatred or misunderstanding of others, in order to come to a place of love. Where is the love lately? I only see anger, pointed fingers, and hate. I also see a lot of misinformation, mistrust, and whitewashing of BIOPC's experiences. I may not understand the extent of racial issues, but I do know this: I know the pain of bi-erasure. I know the feeling that you are somehow "wrong" and defected and that you do not belong. I know the awful feeling of being told your experience 'doesn't exist' and that I am overreacting, I have been told by some close to me that feeling the feelings I do cannot possibly be real. I have been told by both straight and gay communities that my experiences are not valid. Luckily, that sentiment has been waning in the past few years, and I have fabulous support from my family and friends. Still, for black communities and other people of color, they are told that their experiences are not real, that they are being 'hysterical', for being sensitive that something like a noose is found in a building, or that they are 'overreacting' and that it is 'just a statue, get over it' "it happened hundreds of years ago, get over it". I know a similar pain, of being told that I am too sensitive, that I am just confused, that I do not know what I am talking about. That feeling is the worst pain, and I'm sure it is amplified 400 fold for black communities, multiplied by the number of years of oppression and dismissal of their feelings. I may never know the pain of racism, which is a blessing, but it is also a blindspot. I am fully aware of this blindspot since 2016. I do know the pain of being a woman, who has been diminished, even sometimes by members of my own family. I have been told by people close to me that I'm overreacting, or overreaching to something I know nothing about even though I am educated and research everything like a fiend. MOST RECENTLY I WAS TOLD that my being offended by something--- does not matter--- most interestingly by a white male family member. Another white male family member posted charts that I needed to review, despite the fact that I know of nurses who have said the contrary, and have been an essential worker myself. I do not attest to being a medical expert, but I do have common sense. Lately, I have been feeling like my personal opinions have been belittled by (certain, not all) white males. I also have taken notice that no other gender/racial/socioeconomic group has challenged me, unless I really needed to be checked, as is necessary in the black community. I have never been so challenged by openly racist ideals in my life, and it has left me exhausted. Can you imagine what a person of color may feel? So, I may not know racism. I do, however, feel things like a raw-nerve rubbing against sandpaper. I am intuitive and tuned into people's emotions, especially people who are disenfranchised and marginalized. That is why I wonder what in the world is going on in our country. So, don't come at me with your graphs from an obscure article promoting the benefits of a certain drug peddled by this Administration. I read that chart, and that article, and at the bottom in tiny letters it says the drug may cause heart problems, kidney damage and liver damage. I'll take my social distancing and mask instead, thanks. Don't come at me with your academic papers on racism dismissing voices of colors’ concerns, written by a white man. The fact that you cannot see that is problematic, just proves that racism still exists. Don't send me YouTube videos saying being 'offended' is just a philosophical concept. If someone is hurt by something, they are hurt by it. Emotional pain is real, and creates real trauma. Trauma, in turn can cause dysfunctional behavior, which can have real physical effects, and real consequences. So don't say someone's opinion or experience is not real or does not matter. No wonder there is a divide in our country the size of the Grand Canyon. Don't come at me with your mansplaination of Marxism. I read the Communist Manifesto -- twice. In fact, I agree with some of it. (Not all, but some). (We should be able to keep our own property btw ;P) I research everything, I'm curious to a fault, to the point where I wonder where my day has gone -- because I spent half of it figuring out how all the puzzle pieces fit together. I also know how sometimes, it is hard to be able to formulate the right words when put on the spot - because this is my own deficit, and people have taken that to mean I am not intelligent. I can, however write essays such as this one, and write plays which may feature unsavory characters who resemble my foes. So be forewarned. The assumption that someone like me, who looks like me, isn't aware of her world around her is an example of a core problem in this country. But in all honesty, I am tired of researching. I am tired of trying to make a point. I just really wish our country would come back to center, and simply, find some common sense. Where is common sense, and care for our neighbors? It certainly seems to be lacking lately! If anyone actually reads this, I will be surprised, since no one seems to be listening to each other lately. HMU if you do. However, If you are going to be telling me that my feelings are invalid, don't even bother. Peace and prosperity to the ones I love! - Lauren