The Summer of Solidarity

Midsummer. This day is supposed to be a celebration. A party in honor of the sun who has reached its highest point in the sky. The days are long and the evenings endure. Solar energy drenches the northern hemisphere and Spring closes as the Summer is born. We are supposed to draw upon these energies to keep us sustained through the remainder of the year as the light dies each day. The summer solstice is supposed to be a celebration of everything it means to be a human alive on Earth.

But I don’t feel like celebrating.

I don’t feel like celebrating because, on top of a global pandemic, the last three weeks have seen protests and uprisings all across the nation. The people are sick. The people are tired. The people have had enough. Sparked by the police murder of George Floyd, the protests, which started in the United States, have spread all over the world. And the message is clear — Black Lives Matter.

I don’t feel like celebrating because it is clear to me that I live in a society that privileges whiteness, wealth, and systemic power over the sick, suffering, and marginalized. I have been blind to my own privilege for the majority of my life. But now is the time to use my privilege to extend privilege to others, no matter the risk. To use my voice and my platform to say with resounding clarity that Black Lives Matter.

This midsummer I don’t feel like celebrating. I feel like rising up. I feel like speaking truth to power. I feel like giving power to the people. I feel like standing in solidarity with the world.

It will be easy to slip back into some semblance of normal over the next couple of weeks. As so often happens after a shooting or the murder of another black body, it occupies our attention for days or weeks then fades away as we are lulled back asleep by the dizzying distractions of the world. But this time. Don’t. Let. That. Happen.

As the summer is born, rest for a moment to watch the sunrise or sunset—preferably both. Set an intention to be more mindful of your privilege, to make space, to uplift the voices of the marginalized. And then get up and do something about it. Let this solstice inaugurate a summer of change and healing. A summer of solidarity.