Injustice League

Where to begin?

What do you do when you feel injustice happen in front of your eyes? When you see people try and manipulate your good will right in front of you, and the look on their faces reveals lack of awareness, that moment when they realize they’re trying to gaslight you? Right then and there, what do you do?

Do you say, hey—stop. Do you hear yourself being manipulative, being self-serving at this very moment? Do you realize that you’re trying to gaslight me, and I’ve caught you and it won’t work. I see you. I will remain firmly planted on my own two feet. I will remain grounded, while I watch you spin your circles, swirl around and spin stories, go on a merry-go round of concepts, precepts and conditions— while you do that, I will watch you, whilst seated at a table, drinking some hot tea with Oatmilk.

I see you. I will watch you work really hard for weeks and months, trying to create a narrative that just doesn’t exist, that never existed. At some point the current narrative you’ve created in you circus tent will change, because people get bored of seeing the same acts over and over again, and you have to pay rent and pay your actors, lions and bears, otherwise you’ll have to pitch your tent elsewhere–all that and with no talent. Your animals will die on your watch. You’ll need to change your ways, or die.

Somehow. At some point, after trying to make money off the people around you, who then realize that you’re no longer worth investing in because there is no real return (empty promises of one), you’ll have to put on your big girl pants, your big boy suit, and take responsibilty for a circus life that doesn’t make a profit. Unless, you find a nice lady or a nice man to take care of you, once you’ve spilled enough clown tears, and have run enough makeup down your cheeks and onto their clothes, that they feel convinced, no obligated, to come a rescue you.

***

It’s not your fault all of this is happening. It’s happening to you and there is nothing any reasonable person that could have a expected anything but compassion and help from everyone around you, to lift you up. This is where you’ve found a new place to put your tent up, and raise a new circus flag. Here is where you have found a new land, untouched, with rolling hills of grass for your animals to roam, a place to play again while someone else takes care of the business side of things. Who has time for that anyway? There are masses of people waiting to see you! The hordes of customers are waiting! No one understands the talent you have and they are simply awaiting the chance to be convinced to see what they’ve been missing in their lives all this time. You can make them believe because you already believe, and that’s what the followers of faith know how to do. You too, will not be stymied. You have had your wings clipped and been failing to soar because you’ve been denied the chances is all. The right platform.

So convincing you will be, that those like minded friends will pick up your cause and carry you along too. At some point, just like with an addict, the crash will come and it will come hard. Rehab, is just around the corner. Justice, although it may take months and years, justice is wide-eyed, focused, clear and calm. Lady Justice puts one firm foot in front of the other, dropping seeds along the way, so that fledging freedom fighters follow along the path, and grow up thick behind what has been paved in front. A mighty forest, roots ever deepening. All the while you had been distracted finding a new spot to pitch your tents.

I see you.

Justice doesn’t give up. She works quietly. Endlessly. She gives birth to a new generation of scale carriers, balancing and tipping. Even when the body gives up, the work does not. The power of justice gets picked up over and over again. Every time a gaslighter tries to set a forest ablaze, the roots of the trees grip down deeper into the ground, coming back stronger. Every time a master manipulator places a new shiny coin of greed to tip the scale, the circus tent gets upended. A tornado mysteriously roars through. Each generation carries the pain forward and looks for the final salve of peace and rest. I see you.

© Isabel Alvear, July 2020

#sight #gaslighters #privledge #change #NYC #BLM #Writing

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