“Be the light in all the hate. Be the truth in all the lies.”
— to be just // Hina Syeda

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@zenom22
“Be the light in all the hate. Be the truth in all the lies.”
— to be just // Hina Syeda

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Integrity
You cannot be a compulsive liar or gaslighter and be a “good person.” Why not? Most of what goes into being a “good person” is integrity. Can I trust what you say? Do you say what you mean? Is what you say consistent with what you know to be true? What would the upside have to be for you to be willing to lie to someone’s face? Behind their back? What sort of lies do you believe are okay? Is there…
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a dark day... the onion went off
“it’s a beautiful thing to be understood, but a powerful thing to understand yourself.”
— iambrillyant

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a dark day... the onion went off

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a dark day... the onion went off
I know.
You're angry. You should be. You're scared. You should be.
This is awful. It's horrifying. It's deeply depressing. Rage. Scream. Mourn the tragedy we know is coming.
But remember this: what we are about to experience is the world our grandmothers and great grandmothers lived in. This is what they fought against.
Remember that they won. Even if the victory was temporary, they still won.
We can win, too. Prepare yourself. Finish your mourning, and get back to the fight. Yes, it's awful that we have to have this same fight. It's frustrating. It's heartbreaking. But now is not the time to surrender to despair.
Now the work begins.
Today (so far) 18 children and 1 teacher were killed in a mass shooting in Uvalde, Texas at Robb Elementary School.
19 innocent lives stolen at school.
Their parents probably kissed them before they got on their bus or were dropped off in a car line. Their parents never thought that today would be the very last time they'd see them.
I cannot fathom the pain these parents are feeling right now and will feel in the days, weeks, months, and years to come. Or the family of the teacher either.
Something has to change with the politics of guns in America. The people that died today are not pawns in some political game. The laws MUST change. I'm tired of hearing people say "Guns aren't the problem. It's the people who have the guns that are the problem."
NO. Guns ARE the problem.
Integrity
You cannot be a compulsive liar or gaslighter and be a “good person.” Why not? Most of what goes into being a “good person” is integrity. Can I trust what you say? Do you say what you mean? Is what you say consistent with what you know to be true? What would the upside have to be for you to be willing to lie to someone’s face? Behind their back? What sort of lies do you believe are okay? Is there…
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My favorite moment today was hearing Amanda Gorman read her original poem, “The Hill We Climb.” At just 22 years old, Amanda Gorman is the youngest inaugural poet ever, and with good reason. Her speech today stopped me cold in my tracks as I sat there and hung onto her every word as if it were my last breath. She represents the power of women, the power of Black people, the power of disabled people, the power of artists. Amanda Gorman today gave us so much today, and for those of us who are the intersection of all four (Black, disabled, women, and artists), she gave us more than we could have ever asked for.
As she said in her poem, “A skinny Black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president, only to find herself reciting for one.”
I’ve dropped the transcript for her entire poem below and the link to the video is in the sources of this post at the bottom! Please read/listen to it!
The Hill We Climb by Amanda Gorman - January 20th, 2021 Mr. President, Dr. Biden, Madam Vice President, Mr. Emhoff, Americans and the world, when day comes we ask ourselves where can we find light in this never-ending shade? The loss we carry a sea we must wade. We’ve braved the belly of the beast. We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace. In the norms and notions of what just is isn’t always justice. And yet, the dawn is ours before we knew it. Somehow we do it. Somehow we’ve weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken, but simply unfinished. We, the successors of a country and a time where a skinny black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president only to find herself reciting for one. And yes, we are far from polished, far from pristine, but that doesn’t mean we are striving to form a union that is perfect. We are striving to forge our union with purpose. To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters, and conditions of man. And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us, but what stands before us. We close the divide because we know to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside. We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another. We seek harm to none and harmony for all. Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true. That even as we grieved, we grew. That even as we hurt, we hoped. That even as we tired, we tried that will forever be tied together, victorious. Not because we will never again know defeat, but because we will never again sow division.
Scripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree and no one shall make them afraid. If we’re to live up to her own time, then victory won’t lie in the blade, but in all the bridges we’ve made. That is the promise to glade, the hill we climb if only we dare. It’s because being American is more than a pride we inherit. It’s the past we step into and how we repair it. We’ve seen a forest that would shatter our nation rather than share it. Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy. And this effort very nearly succeeded.
But while democracy can be periodically delayed, it can never be permanently defeated. In this truth, in this faith we trust for while we have our eyes on the future, history has its eyes on us. This is the era of just redemption. We feared it at its inception. We did not feel prepared to be the heirs of such a terrifying hour, but within it, we found the power to author a new chapter, to offer hope and laughter to ourselves so while once we asked, how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe? Now we assert, how could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?
We will not march back to what was, but move to what shall be a country that is bruised, but whole, benevolent, but bold, fierce, and free. We will not be turned around or interrupted by intimidation because we know our inaction and inertia will be the inheritance of the next generation. Our blunders become their burdens. But one thing is certain, if we merge mercy with might and might with right, then love becomes our legacy and change our children’s birthright.
So let us leave behind a country better than one we were left with. Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one. We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the West. We will rise from the wind-swept Northeast where our forefathers first realized revolution. We will rise from the Lake Rim cities of the Midwestern states. We will rise from the sun-baked South. We will rebuild, reconcile and recover in every known nook of our nation, in every corner called our country our people diverse and beautiful will emerge battered and beautiful. When day comes, we step out of the shade aflame and unafraid. The new dawn blooms as we free it. For there is always light. If only we’re brave enough to see it. If only we’re brave enough to be it.

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Don’t look for love, look for the one looking for love.
Rumi