What Now?

An “all-generation community organizing meeting” was called for this afternoon to brainstorm about the way forward for social justice. The questions were important. How can we build on the momentum of yesterday’s marches? Did the horror in Dallas, Texas demand a change in strategy? What can we do? Will anything change the culture of policing? Should there be more marches, in more neighborhoods? Does it help to “shut shit down,” to chant in the streets? Does anything help? Is it time for revolution? If so, what does revolution look like?   

I’m tired, and I hurt my back during the march, so I feel cranky. We met outside, and it was sprinkling rain. Few people came to the meeting, and those who came didn’t agree on the answers. These young people strolled by us, laughing, not interested in joining the conversation. I snapped a quick photograph of them, but I forgot to change last night's camera settings. Checking the photo after they left, I felt inadequate in every way, and I wondered if I am as useless as I feel.

Then my friend Devorah sent me this open letter from Rosemary Bray McNatt, entitled “What Now?” Considering all the injustice, the extremism, the fear, and rage, what now?  McNatt writes, “Unclear, unsure, largely unprepared, we go on.  We cannot know whether it is too late to turn the continuing tide of hate and violence on the ascendancy.  We cannot know who will win an election or declare a war.  We can, however, know and live our own intentions: we can look at what is evil and not turn away; we can speak peace in a world that delights in conflict; we can struggle relentlessly for justice, even when we cannot immediately see the results.”

Thank you for your beautiful, heartfelt comments on the pictures of the march yesterday. Thank you for your empathy, your anger, your despair. We can know and live our intentions. We can look at what is evil and not turn away. We can speak peace. Maybe we can even muster a little self-compassion and cut ourselves a little slack.