I feel as if I’m in a fog.
All attempts at parenting or homeschooling my children have gone to the wayside. I don’t even bother. I mean, if one of my kids remembers it’s a weekday and that they have to do some semblance of work, I will help them, but otherwise, I just let them play or run around feral. I am grateful that Netflix still has Avatar: The Last Airbender so my kids can watch it for the bajillionth time.
I have told some of my kids some details about the Atlanta murders, as well as a bit of the other acts of Asian violence. But I just can’t bring myself to do more than the bare minimum. It has nothing to do with me wanting to keep their innocence or protect them. I’ve taught them plenty about anti-Black violence, of the racism and white supremacy ingrained in our nation, of our country’s genocidal roots. Usually, I get criticized for telling my kids too much versus too little.
Instead, it is because I cannot bear it
It feels as if I’m willingly allowing myself to be harmed by these white men — and I cannot allow it.
I refuse to allow these white supremacists another means to access my heart — and my children are my heart. I refuse to read articles about their whys or their poisonous justifications. I refuse to hear about police officers excusing white supremacist murderers with talk about their bad days.
I want them all to burn.
I am behind on pretty much all my work
And yet, I zone out on YouTube, read fan fiction (I can’t even concentrate on reading an actual novel), chat with friends mindlessly, and just kill time on the internet.
I am unable to write words related to work — but I did finish writing two chapters of a fan fiction that pays me zero dollars. That seemed like a wise use of what remaining brain cells I have that are functioning.
I both wish to avoid social media — and yet, am compelled to doomscroll.
Please, I beg you. If you are quoting or sharing articles about anti-Asian racism or violence (or any kind of bigotry in general) that includes actual racist or violent language in your post, please start your posts with [Content Warning (CW)] or [Trigger Warning (TW)].
I cannot tell you how many times I have burst into tears after inadvertently reading what these hateful people have uttered — what they think of me, my children, my mother, and anyone who outwardly looks like us. Even writing this paragraph, I feel the edges of panic seep in.
I see article after article about the Atlanta shootings — and just from reading the headline, I know it will break my heart or infuriate me. Unless it’s written by a friend or someone famous, I usually scroll past.
I feel conflicted
After all, I want to honor these Asian women and read about their lives — it seems the very least I can do to mark their time on this Earth and their passing. But then, I am unable to do anything afterward. I just go numb.
I feel like a bad Asian.
Instead, I continue on like my ancestors who suffered before me. I go about the business of keeping my children alive; I go about in my own bumbling way to make a world where they may never have to read one more article about anti-Asian racism. That we will have finally wiped the evil of white supremacy off the face of this earth.
