Video of cops shooting a black man with his hands up.
Picture of a Syrian child covered in dust and blood in the aftermath of an explosion.
Picture of yet another Transgender women murdered.
We share, and share, and share, praying that this is it. This will be the time people will wake up and accept the ugliness of racism, western emperialism, transphobia, sexism, rape culture. We keep hoping and praying. Soon, we change the way we react to news. Instead of outrage when a black is executed by the police, we find ourselves thinking “I hope he was a good man. I hope he volunteered for the homeless. I hope he was a stand up guy. I hope he did everything he was supposed to do”. We keep hoping that this time, the “perfect” person died, offering our bodies as trades for your compassion.
How much more did Terrence Crutcher need to do, to be a victim worthy of unanimous outrage and solidarity? What does the perfect victim look like exactly?
We are dying, and we will keep dying.
Because you keep asking for evidence. Because you keep saying we don’t know the whole story. Because you keep saying we need to wait for the facts. That video probably wasn’t clear enough. Because to you, we are never humans to begin with. We are savage beasts who need to negotiate our humanity and petition for your solidarity. You keep asking for evidence, for proof that we deserve your compassion, your outrage, your outcry, your solidarity.
Your demand for evidence is an act of violence. All these people murdered by the police, all the women who don’t come forward after sexual assault, every transgender life cut too short. IT’S ON YOU. Because you keep waiting. Waiting for an act outrageous enough to jolt you out of apathy. IT’S ON YOU.
How much more?
How many more?
What’s the price to pay?
Isabelle Masado writes about body compassion on her blog "The Dear Body Project". She knows all too well that the personal is the political, is the community. As such, there is no discussing body compassion without talking about the assault on black bodies, trans women, and people with disabilities. Her mantra is, "How can I live in a way that makes room for you too"? She writes to examine, to heal, to redeem.