S-U-P-P-O-R-T.
Last I checked, the word consisted of 7 letters and not 4, yet from the reluctance people show when it comes to using it? You’d think Support was a 4-letter word (and no, the word is not “G-L-A-D.”)
Support can be given in a variety of ways: Verbally. Physically. Spiritually.
It can be shown in something as grandiose as sky-writing or as simple as a text, “How you doing?”
It takes very little time out of one’s day to show care to another.
It can be as subtle as choosing wisely when confronted with more than one option (for a First World example: 2 Women, A & B; 1 Facebook, C. Which one should you give up? If you chose C, Facebook, you’d be correct. After all, Facebook doesn’t have feelings. Therefore, no chance of it being hurt by them. And if you’re among those who don’t really enjoy or care to use Facebook? Makes the choice kind of a “no-brainer.”)
(Keep in mind that a restraining order is determined by one’s level of attraction, so remember this when wondering whether or not to pull the bear hug move. When in doubt, a genuine smile that shows in one’s eyes speaks volumes and is R.O. safe. LOL. ?)
I wrote a small article for our local paper on Loving Day, a day that celebrates Interracial relationships and marriage, a day informally dedicated to letting Love rule… Yet some douchebag did his best to destroy it in Orlando, Florida. I couldn’t let that go in the small town in which I live without comment. So I did. I tried to keep it short, keep it focused, and end it on a loving, caring note. It was published in that Wednesday’s paper.
As yet, not a single response.
No show of care.
No show of agreement.
No show of support.
Not from the community or any one person in this community.
Yet I know for fact that what I wrote about matters on a personal level to many in this community.
However, as of this blog post, mine is still the only voice speaking out from that long, skinny branch of our local Montana tree.
Not surprising. It’s really nothing new. Same thing happened here in 2012 when Blackface was permitted in the elementary school’s wax museum… at the exact same time it was happening in Colorado Springs. Yet apparently the only person who had a problem with it was me. Even inside my own family.
Sadly, depressingly, it wasn’t the first time I’d received little racial support within my own family, nor the last. That lack of support hurt me to the very marrow of my being. Worse, when it was suggested to me to “remember, they’re just kids” and “maybe you’re being a little sensitive about this”… It’s almost better to have none. And even though 4 years has passed since then, it still hurts. It hurts daily.
Being told to “Let it go” only adds salt to the wound by revealing the complete disconnect and lack of understanding between individuals, which is also painful, because it feels like the other party simply doesn’t care enough about you as a human being to even bother with wearing your shoes for just a moment.
I tried mentioning it, asking for support from those I’d thought would be happy to stand beside me, and hoping it’d offer a better understanding of me. Mentioned how that lack of support when so needed was so much more than a slap in the face… And was told, “I don’t see how a white man can help.” And, “I’m a pacifist.”
*blinks*
So was Martin Luther King, Jr. So was Ghandi. So was Jesus Christ.
Yet they still got shit done.
Empathy.
Hm.
E-M-P-A-T-H-Y.
Another 7-letter word.
Interesting, considering that 7 is a number considered sacred by many.
We need more of both.
And he still gives his love, he just gives it away
The love he receives is the love that is saved
And sometimes can be seen a strange spot in the sky
A human being that was given to fly
– Given to Fly, Pearl Jam
