There is no escape. These walls of yours will come tumbling down one way or another.
You will be left no room but to heal.
There comes a time when I can no longer do emotional labor for you.
I don't owe it to you in the first place, but I am doing what I can to help us both heal.
Your words tell me I need to have an open mind, but you've long since stopped trying to understand my difference.
You cannot separate what you feel from me from another, different kind of pain.
And I cannot stop my life's work just to make sure you're comfortable
I would prefer if people could stop uncritically referring to themselves as white.
I would much rather they refer to the privilege that their light skin affords them.
Or harder yet, to acknowledge that by having grown up lodged to this social formation we call "white," that they carry with them a constructed ignorance formed by that social group's deeply flawed relations to the rest of the world.
And related, but still even more difficult, to be open about the way their attachment to whiteness resulted in a generational white form of trauma, an arrested development passed down through centuries.
This is a sickness we need to heal.
