Matters

I’m so tired. It doesn’t matter.

What do I do?

What can I do?

How am I supposed to feel?

How do I talk about it?

 

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you were born in a red state or a blue state. It doesn’t matter that you graduated college. It doesn’t matter that you can’t gain legal employment  as a felon because you couldn’t afford a lawyer when you were illegally stopped and frisked. It doesn’t matter that you asserted your right as an American when you rolled your window down only to be faced with the barrel of a gun. It doesn’t matter that you were on your way to work or wearing something revealing or trying to feel safe. It doesn’t matter.

Because you are distinctly un-American. Despite the fact that your ancestors died for your survival, and America has been built by immigrants, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because you are dangerous, aggressive, and untrustworthy. You are a seductive, manipulative home-wrecker. You don’t belong here and you never have.

You used to be no more than an animal. You used to be chattel, ready to be sold and traded for the wealth of others. You used to be naïve and docile. You used to suffer. It didn’t matter that you had a rich culture full of tradition and legacy and with multiple languages that could communicate volumes. It doesn’t matter.

You swallowed the injustice and fought harder. You fought for your rights as a human, as a person, as a citizen of a country that exterminated you. You fought for the rights of others afar because you empathized with their struggle. You fought to exist in a place that embarrassed you and shamed you for who you are. You fought through oppression together to assert your humanity.

You made your voice heard. It doesn’t matter that it was at first a faint whisper because it grew into an enormous roar. You screamed until your lungs were sore and you didn’t back down. You yelled from the bottom of your belly for your children whom you promised to protect. You fought with your powerful voice and demanded more. You didn’t stop until you felt justice and you kept fighting to feel valuable.

Now you’re thinking that it doesn’t matter. That you’ve fought for so long and so hard that it doesn’t matter (anymore). Nothing changes and that it’s helpless. It doesn’t matter if justice is served because we have nothing left. But it matters. It matters that you are a person who is worthy of life and humanity and love. It matters that you have people who love you and want you to keep going. It matters that you are here and you kept going when it got tough. If you don’t keep going, it will all have been for naught. It matters for you. It matters for them. It matters. You matter.