A Protest For Me

It is a difficult task these days to ignore the rehtoric of social justice. It has become very 'pop culture' to protest the myriad of global injustices that plague our world. It is a movement that has become trendy and fashionable in the 21st century; but then again, so has hypocrisy. We watch our celebrities drive hybrid vehicles while sporting 'Gucci'; our leaders profess environmental protection, yet smooze with those who rape our earth; and, I, unfortunately, am no different. I used to attend protest after protest, fighting against anything from homelessness, to anti-war, to prisoner rights. For a time I felt like I was igniting change and was part of something greater than myself. Then I met a man, a prisoner in a federal institution, who knew nothing of the 'trendy' social justice movement, but everything about what it means to be oppressed, and he taught me what it truly means to be an advocate for social change. He told me it is not enough to make a poster and then parade it around the art gallery on a Saturday afternoon, yelling obscenities and smoking dope as if it's the magic potion that will bring equality, love and world peace. "No wonder our world is still at war; why there are still children going hungry; and people still being executed and imprisoned", he would say, "no one has changed." Through the many conversations with him, that I hold dear to my heart, this man taught me it had to become a way of life; a space I hold in this world, and a way of treating the earth and others around me on a daily basis. The hardest thing about being socially conscious is living it.

I don't go to protests anymore.....

Thank you G. I miss you

Autumn