I’ve been here before. This feeling, like everything is falling apart, is not new. This blow after blow, almost comedic in its awfulness, is not original. I’ve been here before at 11, 16, 26, 32, 36, and now I’m here again almost a decade later. My familiarity with this moment is ancestral—woven into my bones, my skin, my nervous system.

We have been here before. No, actually, we’ve seen worse, so I know we will survive it. I know it’s even possible, given our history, that we thrive in it. This resilience, this hope is also ancestral—woven into our bones, our skin, and our regulatory systems. 

Honestly, in some moments I curse this damn resilience because there is a part of me that just wants to sink down in a puddle on the floor and just cease to care, to work, to move. The grief over the lives that will be lost in this battle is overwhelming. Yet, I still have hope for us, even as part of me aches to surrender to despair. The temptation to wallow in my fear and wear my sorrow like a big, puffy coat is too great. 

Instead, I ask myself, “Who are you going to be in this moment?”

Instead, I remind myself that when things like this happen, light can shine onto truths you weren’t willing to face. Like how some things that are now being broken weren’t really working.

In times like these, you can be reminded of what is truly important and what is possible if we can dream it together. Maybe, we can build something more brilliant from the rubble of this. I’ve seen some signs that we can. 

In recent months, I’ve reconnected with some old friends. Why were we always too busy for one another? One friend shared that due to his protest of major corporations, he stepped outside of his home to visit local, Black owned establishments. As a result, he has had incredible conversations and connections in his community. But why were we not doing this before? We know that community is the antidote to dehumanization and isolation. 

Many loved ones and I have leapt into major career and lifestyle pivots. We are all moving towards more alignment, stability, and creativity. Why did we feel so stuck before? I have friends now attending to their health and fitness, or planning trips abroad. Wellness and a global mindset feel critical right now. Many are wondering if it’s time to reclaim their faith, remembering how we once gathered, grounded, and plotted in our churches.

I know these signs of change I’m pointing to are about those privileged enough to find sustainable employment, afford healthy food, fitness, and travel but my hope extends to those of us who can’t. I know this brutality will pummel some of us more than others. My hope is for us in our intergenerational form, that is the us that will survive this. Remember that diamonds are forged under pressure. Remember all that we survived to still be here, vibrant and alive. 

Evil, chaos, and violence rarely ever succeeds in crushing resistance, brilliance, spirit, or love. Instead of succumbing to hopelessness and fear, we can get creative and connected.     

Who are we in this moment? 

We have been here before. And yet, here we stand. Hope is not naïve. Resistance is not futile. Love is not weak. We have always found a way forward—and we will again.