Why can’t we just simply exist?
Without the compulsory, premeditated, awkward hi, hello, how are you, I’m good. A script we already have muscle memorized, that has already been manufactured by who knows who, the only thing we know is to never answer truthfully.
It seems like I’m playing a never-ending game of “are you happy and you know it clap your hands,” with no alternative answer.
Why am I a deviant if I say no, I’m actually sad or angry, or jealous, or scared, or the plethora of human emotions we have stored in our back pocket…but I guess that’d ruin brunch…so we smile through gritted teeth.
Welcome to the performance of living.
It’s odd how standardized it is to maintain our own suffering in the name of upholding power structures. We have to act like we’re okay living in our marginalizations so we too can achieve power or maintain the power we already have yet suffer or eventually will suffer from. Because if we act like we’re okay, pretend that there’s nothing wrong in an already broken system and maybe even align ourselves with the same system we detest, perhaps we too can maintain an ounce of power, an ounce of privilege, a life without suffering.
But that’s a lie and a difficult one to realize.
It should be sensible that if the systems in place disenfranchise a group or groups of people, said system should be abolished or rebuilt. And the people who have been oppressed are justified in their response to their humanity being under attack. But many would argue against this. Many paint the people who vocalize their injustices as “ungrateful,” “violent,” “combative,” “sensitive,” and the systems that uphold their marginalization as “fictional.”
Politicizing who can and can’t get angry, who is and isn’t allowed to show “respect,” who should and shouldn’t grieve, normalizes ignoring the cries of the marginalized.
Black people can kneel, sing, yell, stay silent, march, cry, and chant as ways of protest but are almost always characterized as “violent,” “threatening,” “intimidating,” even by people who are harmed by the same system they’re trying to eradicate. We can say, can’t you see if we establish systemic changes to police, housing, healthcare, and much more that you too will benefit, that there doesn’t have to be a list of losers and winners in the game of Life.
Feminists can say the patriarchy affects everyone, that we don’t have to do what we’re conditioned to believe is reserved for specific genders. That we can also help alleviate the pain of having to perform.
That the liberation of one of us helps the liberation of all of us.
But then who would have power? Who has control? Many people mistake feeling powerful for feeling liberated. That if they can live in a system that is bad to everyone, yet cling on to the privilege they have over another group of people, then life can’t be too bad, right?
The only thing that scares the powerful is the idea that they, too, will be subjected to the same abuse they enlist on their oppressed counterparts.
That’s why we’re taught to perform- to smile through our pain, say things are good when they’re not, to not discuss our oppression. Because when we do, we’re told we have a victim complex, we’re told we’re just not working hard enough, we’re called selfish, we’re called whinny, we’re called lazy, despite the fact this country wouldn’t exist if it weren't on the backs of the marginalized.
No matter how much the powerful and privileged want you to believe- individuals are not at fault for having to put on their performance. Sometimes participating in the show saves you from experiencing discrimination and violence at the hands of the majority. However, there will be no way to protest these conditions that will be praised by the majority for being the “correct” one.
Because to me, respect and revolution are oxymorons.