I can’t remember the last time I felt this…hopeless. Today I am sitting here listening to the reporters and journalists talking about what it was like to be at the Capitol Building on the day that thousands of people hijacked American democracy in honor of Donald Trump’s ego and I am angry.
I am still so fucking angry because I remember the moment I heard the screaming, I will never forget the day that I saw Capitol Police opening the barricades to let rioters through because it was safer than trying to hold them back, and I pray today even a year later, that was the reason that I saw the police waving in thousands of white people.
I remember the day I saw grown men and women stomping on another human being, on CNN, the day they broke the glass and screamed “freedom” while trying to steal the election ballots so that Donald Trump could say that they needed to vote again. I remember seeing the men and women that I respect in the US Government being told that they had to run for their lives.
I am so fucking angry, and I’m not even American.
My sister is, my aunt, my cousins, the people I love are American many of them. The people I’ve never met because I can’t cross the border for more than a dozen reasons mostly because we’re in a pandemic and I’m broke anyway.
My sister is there now, somewhere in Lousiana, on her way to a group trip with some friends, and I worry for her Black safety.
My aunt is there now in NYC, with her daughter, my sister, and although I check in with them every single day, I am not entirely sure that they are safe, because they are Black in America, and predominantly Black people, are at risk more than anyone else in that country.
I struggle every day because a person I love is an American man, and the thing that keeps me from letting myself express that love is the fact that he is a white American man, and I am a Black woman.
The racism, the hatred, the fuel that lit the flame of January 6th is very much alive, and I am still scared. I remember calling my mom in tears, “they took the Capitol building, their rioting,” I heard the shock in her voice, and then a second later, as she turned it off, “well that was bound to happen at some point,” or something equally as dissuasive, because she was at work and couldn’t lend me the emotional support I wanted.
Across the room in my living room is a photo collage of Michelle Obama, in the center a photo of her standing at the podium, and underneath the seal of the United States of America.
I see it every single day, and it reminds me that when I was a little girl I wanted to be President of the United States.
I had dreams that are unachievable because of where I was born, so yes, I am resentful and angry at the men and women who thought it was appropriate and acceptable to destroy a building that literally represents the same kind of democracy so many billions wish they had.
Anonymous is something that is so special to my heart because they really did stuff. They fought against and jailed many a pedophile, they raised money for charities that needed food, water, and support. They rallied together during the New Jersey Floods and they contributed to homes that had nothing.
Anonymous as a movement changed the world and made everyone believe that our voices matter, what happened on January 6th made the hunt for anyone calling themselves Anonymous look like a joke.
Members of Anonymous were jailed, beaten, kicked, and had their lives destroyed because they fought against corruption, against vilified governments from around the globe, and they did good work. I was a part of that and I was and continue to be proud of the work that we did.
When I look back a year ago today, I see absolutely nothing to be proud of, I see nothing for these people to remember with joy and pride. Six people died. SIX.
Because Donald Trump couldn’t handle the fact that he lost an election, and his ego was so big, he figured that he could have people stage a coup for him and that it would actually change the results. He actively tried to destroy democracy and he’s going to get away with it.
We all stood there watching him stand there as he did nothing, we watched him encourage the riots, we watched him stand there and do nothing as one officer after another was murdered, and yesterday we saw Republican Voters blame January 6th on Democrats, as if we’re so stupid that we cannot see with our own eyes.
The lies, the shame, the guilt, the fear, the anxiety, the PTSD of dealing with Republican Voters who think that they can shame us into believing their actions are the fault of anyone but themselves is so fucking exhausting.
“Burt, you broke the window we have video,”
“Oh no that’s not really me, it’s a look-a-like.”
That’s the argument these people are making.
I responded to this tweet yesterday, and I stand by my words. If the members of Anonymous or Black Lives Matter pulled this, we’d be dead. There is no question about that, but you continue o say that Domestic Terrorism is not only not a thing it doesn’t affect us here in Canada.
I HAVE FAMILY AND LOVED ONES THERE, IT AFFECTS ME. I have business in America, IT AFFECTS ME.
95% of the members of Writers and Editors of Color are in America, IT AFFECTS MY CO-WORKERS, YES, IT DOES AFFECT ME.
I am fucking angry, I am pissed this was allowed to happen, I am pissed the NATIONAL GUARD was told not to bother coming to support the Capitol Police, AND that they spent days sleeping on the floor in case things got worse. I am angry the person or persons who planted ACTUAL BOMBS has gotten away with it because even more lives could have been taken.
I am angry, disgusted, and all the negative things today, because a grown ass man couldn’t handle the fact that he fucking lost.
Do you know how many people died under the leadership of Donald Trump? Actual millions of people, between riot violence, police murders, illness, and the pandemic that man is responsible for the death of millions. If that’s your hero, get the fuck off my website, you aren’t welcome here.
To the Survivors of January 6th, I am sending all my love,
Devon J Hall
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