Recovery

Last week I took a certification exam and passed. Passing was the result of almost three months of pretty intense studying. And pretty much right after that, the news of George Floyd’s death and the circumstances surrounding it started to make its way across the pond. I am still livid about everything about it, I’m livid that that man was allowed to stay on the force after the first time he killed an unarmed POC, I’m livid that only one of the three officers who murdered Floyd was charged, and I’m livid that the charge was as low as it was. The bastard knew that he was killing the man he was strangled for almost 9 minutes. And I’m fucking livid about the coverup that’s already happening as the county tries to protect those murdering fuckers. I’m livid but not surprised about the response of the police. And I am freaking angry that there are still people calling the police right now anywhere in the great Twin Cities area.

But none of that anger is useful from all the way over here. So I’m amplifying the voices of dissent and uprising, especially the POC ones, as much as I can, I’m adding books to my TBR pile to educate myself and entertain myself with fiction written by black writers, trying to donate to bail funds and generally trying to help where I can. Which is not a lot. That feeling of helplessness is nothing to what others are going through, believe me, I understand. But it’s what I have.

Today, I hurt, physically and mentally. I hope y’all are doing better. It’s the first day of Pride month. Pride started as a riot by people who had had enough. It’s way past time to support the people who have had enough now.