I wish I had something hopeful to open this with.
I do know there are people organizing and helping and fighting the good fight.
I also know that hope is a powerful weapon when it fuels righteous action.
But, I have to confess, for the first time in my life I feel old.
I reject wholeheartedly that we should even dream of returning to some idyllic past that never existed in the first place. People often use the past as a denial of the present. As a denial of change and a fear of the unknown. As a denial that in order to exist in this world you have to, at bare minimum, concede that people who aren’t like you are allowed to exist.
Every bit of social ground that has been fought for and clawed for by any oppressed group has been worth it, even when it feels like one step forward, five steps — or decades — back. I truly, madly, and deeply believe that none of us are free until all of us are liberated.
But as another calendar year turns over, I still feel a longing, because some things were better in my lived past.
Social media used to not be driven by harmful, even dangerous, algorithms. Search engines used to find things without prioritizing whoever paid more or manipulated SEO best (see also). Rent used to be more affordable. College…
