But imagine what would happen to a capitalist society if we were outraged at the condition of every unhoused person we came across. If the very fact of poverty in the face of wealth drove us apoplectic with rage. What would happen to white supremacy if white people saw black people as… people?

I can’t force white people to offer black people kindness. Even if it’s as small as seeing their pain and acknowledging it whether you can alleviate it or not. It is a form of empathic violence many of us are conditioned to perpetuate in order to allow the systems we live in to function.

And the damage is hard to shake off. It lingers, like the deepest traumas do, because it’s such a fundamental repudiation of your humanity. The knowledge that the same white people who would swarm each other to help a lost dog would blithely let you die in the wilderness, alters you.

And it is incalculably harmful. In every case where I’ve experienced this brutal form of erasure, I walk away seemingly whole only to explode in pain later. Like a decapitated body that doesn’t at first realize that it has lost its head until it’s taken a few steps.

This form of violence isn’t limited to black women, obviously. We extend it to the unhoused, to the mentally ill. But it’s particularly vicious because its passivity allows its perpetrators to maintain an illusion of moral wholeness - an idea of themselves as good - even when committing harm.

The list goes on. I haven’t always been able to intervene in every case I’ve witnessed - often I’m not able to get to the person in need. Instead, I’ve watched those who can help steadfastly refuse to do so. Refuse to even *see* the need.

I’ve seen a black mother with crying children fending for herself because no one will acknowledge that she needs help. Just this evening, a black woman on the bus fell over when the vehicle braked too hard and no one offered her a hand, or even inquired to see if she was ok.

I’ve seen this happen to others: an older black woman, clearly ill and fragile, forced to stand on a crowded bus in a predominantly white part of the city because no one would acknowledge her presence enough to offer her a seat.

When I finally joined the group, sweaty and upset, there was no apology for the act. There wasn’t even an acknowledgment of what could have happened to me and my baby in the wilderness. My distress was made invisible and it was utterly devastating.

I’ve experienced this form of violence. On a group hike with my then 2yr old, I had to slow down because my child was upset. The group lead, and the other mostly white hikers, chose to forge ahead, leaving me and my child behind. But for the kindness of one other hiker, they would have stranded us.

I think this is more than a microaggression, but rather a form of violence that is designed to reduce the person in distress to something less than human. Because it tells them that they matter so little that even the basest level of empathy that can be given to an animal is not available to them.

You’ll love it.

That is not true. The interviewer’s tone of voice and phrasing showed she was not coming with honest intentions. She just wasn’t prepared to be played like that. And as a grown woman in my 40s, you can never insult me by calling me old. I’ve earned every single one of my years.

I disagree. The interviewer opened with an inflammatory question designed to shame and humiliate her guest and wasn’t prepared when it backfired and the energy was turned back on her. My people say if you try to hold someone down in mud don’t be surprised if you get dirty also.

Agreed. The “interviewer” was trying to shame her guest and get a rise out of her and got played instead. If she couldn’t stand the heat she should not have entered the kitchen. Besides, being called old is not an insult if you know the value of your own life experiences.

Long Live Evil by Sarah Rees Brennan. Surprising ML with an ending that had me cheering - in a deeply unsettled way. lol!