Realizations, feelings, et al
Iāve come to realize my parents think my Facebook account is one big temper tantrum.
I canāt blame them. The statistics (courtesy of a quick scroll-through of my own profile just now) have spoken: at least five out of my last ten Facebook wall posts have been angry. And don't even get me started on my Twitter. My posts, for the most part, are calm, composed and backed up with logical points, but they're angry nonetheless. On the platter today: a heaping serving of worldwide police brutality, disappointment at the government's apathy towards the working class, a piping hot cup of #JunkTerrorBill tweets and a general disgust towards people eager to use the #BlackLivesMatter riots as a way to feed their pro-violence, pro-white kink.
There I go again. Sorry.
Specific opinions aside, I think itās been pretty apparent to anyone who has seen my Twitter tirades, tapped through my Instagram stories or even engaged in conversation with me in the past few months that Iāve got more opinions forcing their way out of my real-life and proverbial, online mouth. Am I more opinionated now? Itās hard to say. Iāve always harbored my fair share of thoughts on issues, but the obvious shift can be credited to the fact that my opinions donāt just live in my head anymore. These opinionsāāno doubt backed by more research and coming from a deeper pocket of understanding than beforeāādonāt just sit there to simmer. They donāt hit a full stop after being given the time of day. The anger and the opinions don't disappear. They shouldn't. They persist, a burning, round-the-clock reality just like these issues we should all be angry about.
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Iāve come to realize that I may have become a little less fun to talk to.
Or perhaps Iāve just a little more intimidating, maybe even annoying. I feel it when people close to me bring up these topics and when I try to to probe their reasoning. This also becomes apparent to me when I slip into a discussion of why our government should be held accountable. Or why power abusersāgovernment officials, police officers or whatever they may beādeserve more than just a slap on the wrist. Or why people don't deserve to be punished for violating the same rules that authorities excuse themselves from following. From the dinner table to the workplace to casual conversation, Iāve seen peopleās eyes glaze over, seen people harden up instead of unpacking the discussion. People reacting by refusing to so much as hear counterarguments. I can't be the only one.
I get it. Itās not easy talking about these things. Especially not on social media, where the norm is to post the tip-of-the-iceberg good stuff, to slap a pretty filter on everything. Can being loud about opinions dampen your social life? Itās likely, and therefore, itās hard to do. But I donāt know, itās gotten even harder to sit with the idea that these issues could just pass us by. If thereās a chance that a deserving candidate will earn a vote, that petitions will earn a signature, that another person will advocate for equal rights across the board, I find that having a shrinking follower count is a minuscule price to pay.Ā
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Iāve also realized that there is still so much left to do.Ā
There are thousands out there airing their feelings out on Twitter, spilling their sentiments via their keyboards, but the number of people going out to carry onto the next step? Not nearly as many. It's easier said than done, but there's more to justice than publishing an empty Instagram story and tagging ten friends. We have the awareness, now we need action. Donāt let the thoughts stop in the mind or within your own circle. Educate the self and then others. Sign petitions. Demand to know where your taxes are truly going. Write and tell stories that need to be heard. Rally online until we can take things outside, and for the love of all that is good, remember to register to vote this time.
Sorry, do I sound like Iām getting angry again?
Art Alexandra Lara