a world full of blinders
Too many people make a transcontinental move to 'escape' the dangers of America, only to ignore everything in the land they now call home.
I’m finding it more and more difficult to engage in the already surface relationships I am tethered to because of circumstance. Five minutes with me, and you know right away the type of person I am: engaging, thoughtful, deep. I love deep conversations. I don’t like arguments, and I don’t believe in changing someone’s mind. I believe we are who we are, until we aren’t. No amount of my persuasion will interfere with that unless you are at your own precipice, unless you are yourself in a transitional state. when your windows are shut and dirty, no amount of light will seep in.
I was never afforded the illusion of innocence. My curiosity for knowledge, my household—devoted to the afternoon news at 5pm and evening news and newspapers in school from a young age—that took away my innocence. My desire to read everything showed me early that this world takes. There are three types of people: those who cause harm, those who seek justice, those who keep their head in the sand.
I’ve always pitied “innocence”. Wondering how long, how many years it will take for them to realize there is a real world beyond their four walls. Like those who believe in Santa then find out it’s not true. I don’t think people realize how damaging it is to be fed a lie, even as innocent as Santa, then have it ripped from you, and worse, ridiculed for believing in it in the first place. It feels like a trauma response to watch those same people become parents decades later and resuscitate the lie. I’ve never understood the appeal of thinking a man was breaking into your home to give you presents. But I also didn’t grow up with a chimney. I grew up with Jacob Miller and Inner Circle among other classics:
So there’s that.
I’m fascinated by this obsession to “preserve innocence” and wonder what cloaking the world we live in is really supposed to do for your children? Or is it that you don’t want to engage in thoughtful conversation with your children? Or be challenged by them? Seen by them? Is it even responsible in this century in any country on this planet?
It is infantilizing. It reads like there’s a level of personal growth that hasn’t happened yet for the parent. A mother I know doesn’t want her kids to see the news because it’s always “bad”. Another watches the children’s version of the news with their child that is presented “neutral”, but it isn’t if you are actually aware of what’s happening in real time.
We live in a time when you don’t have to wait for the evening news to know that neutrality is actually select censorship. It’s propaganda. How are we always back in this same place? Why are people still disinterested in being inquisitive and challenging what they are being told? Disinterested in raising their kids for better?
I live in a country where everyone wants to approach me about America, and not pay attention to their own backyard. To their own home countries. Then they get uncomfortable when I mention the white women who consistently fail America. They get uncomfortable when I mention that where we live is absolutely no better and in many ways much worse. Heaven forbid.
I’m realizing I have less and less space in my body for interacting with these types of politics. It is dangerous to keep the future unaware. To teach them colorblindness. This isn’t a new feeling for me, but in the past few weeks it has intensified. To a point where I can’t make nice anymore. Another thing to know about me, I can’t always hide my feelings. It’s gone show.
I want to be in community with people who feel and are similar to me. People I can touch, send my kids to school with, break bread with. It’s not an easy accomplishment in Europe. Too many people make a transcontinental move to “escape” the dangers of America, only to ignore everything in the land they now call home. They either swallow themselves whole, or worse. And I get it. Especially for Black people. I get wanting to take that heavy coat off, but as an immigrant and a child of immigrants, who are we throwing that coat down on? Who are we aligning with for a good life? Who are we befriending? What are their politics? That is what always gets in the way for me. I want relationships that see me. I’m always forced to see everyone else. Most of the time I don’t love what I see. What parts of us are we willing to sell?
I’m not willing to sell any parts. I have to be earned. And those kinds of intense relationships sometimes feel like they only happen in America.
Sometimes it feels like I’m asking for too much.