Lately, I’ve really been struggling to reckon with the way things are. I’ve known for years that there are so many flaws in this world, this nation, this society, from persistent small-scale issues to horrible cataclysms like the mass deaths in Gaza right now. But recently, it’s been weighing on me harder than usual. It’s just fundamentally wrong that I get to live comfortably and not even think about where my next meal is coming from while there are children being bombed and starving.
This isn’t a recent realization or anything — it’s not as if I haven’t thought about this thousands of times, about how fundamentally unfair the world is — but it’s been occupying much more of my mind than usual, that I find myself unable to relax. I feel like I’m under a blanket of guilt about why I feel the way I do.
I’m not making a “poor me” statement here; it’s a huge privilege that this type of suffering and deprivation of human rights is something I merely feel bad about and don’t have to experience — and in fact, I think we need to remind ourselves of that sometimes. Sometimes, I’ll have had a crappy day, and then just have a moment where I think, “Wow, this literally doesn’t matter. There are people who would give anything for this to be one of their bad days.” Obviously, my feelings are still valid, I’m not saying that just because you live comfortably you don’t get to feel sad, dissatisfied, or anything like that. But I do feel that people often forget their privilege, and it’s been humbling and grounding to have become more cognizant of the benefits I reap simply because I got lucky in the birth lottery.
It’s important to find a balance, though. If you spend all your time feeling guilty for the way things are, taking the weight of the world on your shoulders, not only are you heaping undeserved guilt on yourself, but your own despair isn’t at all helping the people who are suffering. There have been times when I neglected to educate myself or skipped out on protests because I’ve felt bogged down by how much evil and horror exists, and I feel low for just wishing I could change things but not having the power to do so. I regret this. I don’t want to be a sullen bystander. I want to be active in fighting the way things are, in rallying together with like-minded people, and not giving into sadness at the seemingly insurmountable issues that plague humanity.
If you’ve felt the way I’ve described recently, the last thing you should do is rot in bed, read horrible headlines, or drown out your miseries in entertainment. That’s what people in power are counting on you to do. Resistance and persistence are what is going to make things better. I need to be reminded of that sometimes, and I thought maybe others did, too.
You shouldn’t spend all your time taking on global issues as if you’re the sole savior, but don’t let yourself become complacent in despair. Keep the conversation going, and don’t let injustices become part of the normal background noise. Whether it’s the atrocities in Palestine, whether it’s the struggling rights of minorities in the U.S. and worldwide, whether it’s just the general malaise of capitalism or global warming or anything else, your sadness helps no one, including you. So take those moments to feel sad, and don’t let yourself forget how bad it is. Because it’s not going to get better until we are putting these feelings to good use. Go to protests, donate to people in need, help a homeless shelter feed the hungry. Channel these feelings towards something positive. This is as much a letter to myself as to anyone else. I hope publishing it serves as a reminder for me, as well as a wake-up call for some of you.
