Sitting this one out

Very thoughtful morning. Lots of impressions of my parents. Our parents are often the gatekeepers of our ancestors and filter the ancestor’s manifestation.

The way in which people, particularly but not exclusively white people, internalize and interpret equity and equality is making me itchy this week.

I’ve been through numerous anti racism trainings of rather varied quality for the last 10 years. It’s been a few years since the last one so I’m sure Mama Lila will call and I’ll find myself in another soon. For me it’s an expected aspect of living in a majority-Black city and working for Black women lead organizations.

I not only need to have an awareness of black history, but also must consider and have a deeper understanding of my history and how I’m placed in the present moment. While I have arrived here under duress, my approach has not lacked strategy or intention.

Let’s start with a few definitions. Equality and equity share the same root, but the blurring of subtleties between them seems to trip well intentioned people up and replicate inequities rather than resolve them.

Equality is what we could have on a level playing field, one without the towers and quarries of oppression. Equity is about everyone getting what is needed to create equality or to level the playing field.

One of the important subtitles lost is here is that, in order to level the field people living in the hills, those who have access to resources and are all set, are not entitled to further benefits or an equal stake.

It is in fact possible that in order to archive any semblance of equity, individuals and groups with amassed power may have to sit out for a few turns at the table or possibly even make sacrifices to the tune of redistribution.

© EschatonLife

Hungry Ghosts


I’m the last caretaker of a few hungry ghosts; they may be ancestral, or I somehow, at some point, drew their attention as a host.

A confederate solider, a rapist, an unrighteous thief. There have been others, though their time in my care more brief.

My goal is to not pass them on, the mission, to take them home with me.
Out past the campfires, at the edge of the infinite, returning to the endless We.

© EschatonLife