When There Are No Words

I love and respect language, believing that words, when perfectly placed together on a page, can change the world. When chosen with care and spoken with eloquence, they can motivate, unite, heal, and, yet, just as easily, crush, humiliate, and destroy. “Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them.” Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Words are powerful and, rarely, will you find me at a loss for them. Over this past week, watching such unsettling and upsetting events unfold, I’ve been frustrated that the words won’t come; that I’ve been unable to put pen to paper and, using language, describe the emotions and thoughts careening around in my head. I wondered if the fact that the words wouldn’t come meant that there were simply none to be had and that this was a time to let silence do the talking. But, I also feel so filled up; bursting with anger, frustration, angst, vengeance, pity, inadequacy and guilt. Rudderless and unsure which course is right for me, I want to speak, but fear that no matter how hard I try, my carefully chosen words won’t convey my true feelings and intent, might be misconstrued, or will be woefully inadequate, naive, ignorant and without substance. What could I possibly have to say about a subject in which I have no experience? What do I think I could add? Words, today, more than ever, need to be clear so that you “mean what you say and say what you mean.”

It would be easier and I know it would certainly be safer to say nothing, thereby, avoiding all possible controversy, uncomfortable conversations or backlash. I can change the subject when speaking to my friends or family. I can scroll past posts without “liking” or commenting on anything even slightly provocative and pretend I don’t see the Facebook, and Instagram posts and the Twitter hashtags swinging the pendulum all the way over as I read post after post busy calling out anyone who may have ever mentioned anything that could possibly be considered racist or discriminatory. I actually saw a post on my neighborhood Facebook page; the same page where we ask each other where to find the best roofer, that was advocating firing someone for a misquoted comment taken out of context made twenty years earlier. I’m guessing “judge not lest ye be judged,” is not cross-stitched on a pillow anywhere in his house. I ignored the post and played it safe.

But, I can’t ignore what’s happening in the world especially this past week. Today, I’m not that silent person. Today, even though there are no words to accurately describe it, I feel compelled to say something; inadequate, uneducated and naive as it may be, because what we are witnessing is cathartic, sad, inspiring, infuriating and historic. While, I can try to understand it, I have no framework of knowledge to speak to what the black experience in this country is like. But, as a human being, I can acknowledge the pain, see the damage racism and discrimination causes, condemn it, and try to change it. I was horrified and ashamed by what I witnessed in the murder of George Floyd. I am haunted, not by Floyd’s last words or breath, as horrific as those scenes and sounds were, but by the look in that officer’s eyes as he knowingly suffocated another human being to death. His arrogance, confidence and assurance that his actions would wield no consequence, was chilling and made me physically ill. That no other officer intervened only emphasized that confidence and magnified the horror. In that moment, I knew that I could never again claim ignorance or maintain silence.

There is so much more to say; certainly too much for a simple blogpost from a middle-aged, white grandmother in NJ who is fairly confident, she’s unqualified to give it the coverage and language it deserves. So, for today, when there are no words, I am so grateful to those who found them:

“To sin by silence when they should protest makes cowards of men.” -Abraham Lincoln

“History will have to record that the greatest tragedy of this period of social transition was not the strident clamor of the bad people, but the appalling silence of the good people.” -Martin Luther King, Jr.

“Privilege is the right to remain silent when others can’t.” -Richie Norton