When I heard about the shooting death of unarmed teenager Michael Brown in Ferguson, I was terrible sad and terribly angry, and frankly, only a little shocked, because yes, we live in a racist world. Predictably, some people are trying to explain why an unarmed teenager deserved to be shot to death by police, claiming that he looked dangerous, or that he behaved in a way that suggested that he was dangerous, or that maybe he had done things that were criminal or threatening. The same gross, icky, stupid logic that racists used to discredit Chief Theresa Spence: that people (especially people of colour) cannot be innocent or credible if they're guilty of anything at all. Maybe Michael Brown was dressed in a way that would make a racist police officer think that he was a criminal. Maybe he got lippy. Maybe he didn't. The thing is, he was a kid. Just a kid. Maybe he was being "good" and the police officer shot him anyway. Or maybe he wasn't being cautious or sensible or respectful, because he's a kid and kids are supposed to push boundaries. Cops are supposed to protect kids, not shoot them. Anyway. I'm angry, and I am sad. And I feel completely helpless, especially when I watch the anger and sadness of his friends and families and members of his community who are expressing their own grief and rage and frustration in Ferguson. And I wish I could do something to help, but I can't.
Not long after Michael Brown's death, I learned that a friend of mine has been diagnosed with ALS. And I felt terribly, terribly sad. And frustrated. And helpless. Because ALS is an awful disease, and I wish that I could do something to help, but I can't. I can offer a hand to her and her husband, and I can donate to www.als.ca, but really, there's nothing that I can do to make her better.
A lot of times, when I read the news, I feel frustrated and helpless. I feel helpless about Somalia and the Boko Haram kidnappings and Ferguson and polluted rivers in Alberta and BC and the ISIS militants and Gaza and Ukraine. I fell helpless when I hear about crimes and illnesses and losses in my own community. And I do my best to help out the people that I know and love, and I donate what I can to charities (though, if we're honest, I could probably give up a lot of luxuries and give more...). But a lot of the time, I really just feel helpless.
A friend and former colleague of mine, El Jones, is really good at getting people to think and act. She organizes rallies, and she uses her poetry to make people see things like racism and violence in a different way. I wish I could be more like El, but that's really not my thing. If I tried to organize a rally, I'd probably end up alone on Barrington Street, getting in the way of perplexed passers-by.
And you know what? I'm okay with that. Because when it comes to activism, I'm a sheep. I pick up other people's great ideas to help raise money and awareness, and I lend my voice on things that matter to me. Because really, the world needs sheep--sheep who care about things, and who may not be organizing the rallies, but who are ready to join and, and stand behind a leaders, and say, "I'm not OK with this either!"
So today, I'm going to donate to ALS Canada. Then I'm going to dump a bucket of water on my head. It's unoriginal, I know. And it doesn't mean that I don't care about Michael Brown or the people of Ferguson. It just means that this is one thing that I CAN do that makes me feel a little less helpless by--I hope--helping out in a small way.
