VJ’s Weekly Challenge #98: no words

From my place of privilege, I sit and watch George Floyd beg for breath, call out for his mama, and know that I can never truly understand the plight of another, and that I, by virtue of my whiteness, am part of the problem. I have no words adequate enough to express what I am feeling.

I tried. I sent out an expression of disbelief, of horror, and the response came back: This the best you got, white woman.

The author is correct. The comment deserved. I can turn off the TV and the issue moves into the background of my suburban, peaceful life. And no matter how much that image, and his voice haunts me, I am still safely distanced. Such is the nature of my sin. I am guilty of turning a blind eye; pretending.

Racial profiling doesn’t just happen somewhere else. It happens to young men in my neighbourhood – pulled over every time they go out, because we whitey’s are suspicious. It happens the moment we turn on our screens and watch a crime drama where the perpetrators are men of colour.

And it will continue to happen as long as we are willing to look away.

Today, I feel helpless. Inadequate. Guilty.

Today, I have no words.


This week’s focus is inspired by the events unfolding in the news, but is not limited in its scope. There is much in life that leaves us speechless – both tragic and awe-inspiring. This week, think about the moments that leave you searching for words. Responses can be written, photographic, artistic, or musical. I look forward to your input.

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

50 thoughts on “VJ’s Weekly Challenge #98: no words

  1. As a person of color who looks and is perceived as white by others and society in general, I enjoy privilege more often than not. I’ve been taken as Hispanic, my real father was, and called a “wetback” and spit upon a couple times. I’ve was pulled over every time I flew after 911 and my daughter, a baby then, was actually strip searched in the airport, diaper off and all. But I realize I can never know what it feels like to live as a black woman in this country since I am perceived as white. My mother who was half African American was also perceived as white, so not even through her experience can I have any real idea of what that experience is. But I do know we have to find our words so this stops.


    Liked by 2 people

    1. When do we break through this fear of one another and find the gifts? We do need to find the words, and the right platforms to make them count. Thanks for commenting.


  2. Such a touching post! As a fellow white woman, I often feel speechless when confronted with violence against people of color. However, I too easily turn away because I don’t know what to say.

    Liked by 2 people

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