Week Five of my Creator Journey: Fun Times!

Shall We Play a Game?....

If you don't know what movie that quote comes from, you're too young to be my friend! ??????

Being a social justice warrior is incredibly lonely. If someone had told me two years ago how demoralizing and emotionally exhausting it is to amplify the voices of Black people and advocate for Black liberation, equity and justice, especially on social media, I would have told them to play me the world's smallest violin. It doesn't seem possible that people could be so triggered by race relations and take time out of their busy days to argue, threaten and cajole people like me who are simply using our voices to try to bring forth change in thinking and the education on topics that is so badly needed.

Even a post about Black Girl Magic quickly descends into a 30-comment thread about how ALL girls have magic. *sigh* A poll on favorite hip hop artists elicits a threat to report me to CNN for fraudulent poll credibility! ?? The accusations of being a "Race Pimp" have come so often that they don't even bother me any more. And of course people will say, it's just social media. Shake it off! But I use social media daily! Why should I have to change my routine to accommodate people's lack of self control? I compare it to getting in your car every day to drive to work or the grocery store. What if every time you turned the ignition, your car yelled out, "You suck!" That would start to get old after a while!

But it's not the obviously serious posts getting push back that bother me. I know people are triggered by talk of the lack of progress in racial equity, the foundation of racism embedded into the fabric of America starting with slavery, or the essential need for teaching accurate Black History in our K-12 schools. I know many people in the majority are bothered by those ideas that conflict with their contrived reality and cognitive dissonance. It's the seemingly innocuous, "fun," celebratory posts about the uniqueness of Black culture, wins in our community and achievement of Black "Firsts" and accomplishments that confound me. It makes me wonder, if there's no common ground in matters of shared humanity that are completely innocent, is there common ground anywhere?

There isn't a week that I don't wonder if any of this is worth it. Like a Pandora's box, I've opened it now. Can this all be closed? It's a great question. I'd like to think that it can be. I know I have an obligation to use my platform wisely. And many days it feels more like a mission and a compelling force, rather than an obligation. Like my hero John Lewis said, "When you see something that is not right, not fair, not just, you have to speak up. You have to say something; you have to do something." But at the same time I don't want to be like Smeagol from Lord of the Rings, so consumed with this that it eats me alive.

So there's my dilemma. Where do I go from here? I suppose only time will tell. But I know I'm at a crossroads. And I'm not sure which direction I'll take. All of this is so different from the me I have been all of my life. I never asked for it. But now it's here. I've always been someone that avoids conflict. I'm pretty easy going. People are always surprised when they get on a Zoom Call with me. I spend most of the time cracking jokes and playing around. I'm immature as f*ck!! ??????

I think most people expect me to be like Sister Souljah, who by the way I love! But I'm actually quite the opposite. I'm an empath, which is probably why I care so much. I cry very easily. I'm a socially awkward introvert, who just likes to have fun most of the time. I learned to joke around as a coping mechanism. I was bullied relentlessly when my family first moved to South Florida from the UK. People were constantly asking me if I wanted to drink some tea and have biscuits. I was chased home from school almost daily, even had things thrown at me and was assaulted one time by a group of boys in a way that I'd rather forget. So, to combat that I became the class clown. It was to the point where I was getting written up by teachers because I made it my mission to create such a disturbance that no one would ever pick on me again.

So here I am again. The class clown, who is so tired of getting picked on. I put on a front like I really don't care. But I know I do! Deep inside I want to go back to my fun days of two years ago scrolling on Instagram for shoes, matching bags and makeup tutorials. But now Pandora's box is open. I guess there's no way to go back to just having fun?