One of the most powerful things to emerge from this week’s events has been watching countless others like me telling their stories, wherever and however they can, with as much level of detail as they choose, using their real names, or with complete anonymity, or somewhere between.
And the response has resonated like a thousand-year curse being lifted: We believe you. We believe you. We believe you.
That’s all many of us ever wanted. To be seen, heard, believed. It’s happening now, unequivocally. So why create a platform like The Word for This? I’ve told my story, and in telling it, I’ve started to release it. From here, it’s about you – now, and going forward.
I want us to create a record, to document, to make us tangible – figuratively if not literally, though I’ve had flash-forward images of a future in which anthologies of our stories line bookshelves, solidarity and healing rendered timeless in paper and ink. A collective reminder of a driving force behind the uprising that, surely, will someday be studied, analyzed, interpreted. We are, we will continue to be, our own evidence.
Wherever I can, I’m trying to bookmark the stories I see, but they’re scattered across platforms, buried in comment threads overflowing with solidarity. My soul-sibling survivors, let’s make sure we don’t get lost in our own whirlwind.
Let’s tell it. All of us, together.
Much love,
Jess
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