It’s been a tough ten days, tougher for some than for others.
I’ve swung from crying to numbness, from anger that feels helpful and focused and productive to frozenness, and back all over again. I’ve snapped at humans I love, and have wanted nothing more than to retreat into their arms, or to take them into mine. And I’ve felt frustrated with folks who feel the need to remind us incessantly that perhaps it won’t be that bad. I get the desire to avoid panic and to feel like all’s not lost, but compulsory optimism right now feels fantastical, irresponsible, and, frankly, unethical. We can resist hopelessness and stagnation without giving up grief, despair, and an aim to mobilize around the fact that this is, ...
It’s been a tough ten days, tougher for some than for others.
I’ve swung from crying to numbness, from anger that feels helpful and focused and productive to frozenness, and back all over again. I’ve snapped at humans I ...
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