(in progress)
I must preface where I rest on the corrupt pyramid of racism and inequality. Although I carry my own intersectionalities and generational trauma, I hold a position of privilege for the complexities that exist within the systemic barriers and colonial society we seek to abolish—being a part of a larger community of marginalized people that have historically and presently been lesser than the white folk. My ancestors and upbringing carry forth internalized racism and have conformed to the stereotypes that have been placed upon my people, whether subconsciously or not.
Despite this acknowledgment, I carry on the burden of said intersectionalities. So please, allow me to have the space to cry, complain, confuse, and comfort.
Within these four walls, I could exist as a raw being, with control of which eyes perceive me and who can enter. The moment I leave this room, I become a statistic, a keyword, a checked-off box. My intersectionalities are labeled within the alphabet as x, y, z, and contrariwise. These identity factors are starting to have a great influence on how I view myself and how others do so. I am beginning to lose myself within these endless overlaps of Venn diagrams, which are parts of me but they do not make up the entirety of who I am.
Forgive me for wanting to simply exist as nothing, I am tired, but I cannot help but think about those who carry more letters and are unable to be nothing within their four walls.