I have this thing going where I want to speak up for the voiceless and fight for the hopeless and make a difference. I want to end oppression and make privilege seen. And then while I’m sitting in Starbucks with a slight pain in my throat from getting a surgery that wasn’t necessary to my life thinking ‘maybe I could go to the doctor to get more medicine’ and ‘I’ll just go home and sit with my hardworking, loving parents to bring my mood up’ I start to wonder why I think I have the right to be the voice for the voiceless.
Is there a point where the privilege you didn’t ask for voids your attempt to speak up for the oppressed?
Will I ever truly understand the trials the people I’m fighting for go through?
Will anything ever change? Is anything worth it? Or should I just sit with my 4$ cup of coffee, watching my violent TV show and ignore the cries around me? Continue reading