One Word

There are times when powerlessness is the only sensible reaction.

Joe and I were watching a television program and just as it ended, building up to an emotional climax, one of the characters uses the 'R-word.' 

It's like a sucker punch, the whole of the ending is thrown off, our understanding of the characters involved is knocked off course, the time we've enjoyed watching the show is now thrown into question.

Powerlessness.

Nothing I can do will ever fix this.

We are left sitting feeling like we've been slapped by our own trust, the trust we'd given to the writers of the program.

Breathlessness. 

I'm told that I'm too sensitive in my reaction to that word.

I don't understand why I'm expected to be able to let purposeful hurt, purposeful hatred, roll off me.

And I don't know what to do.

 I know people who can be brought low by that word, can be torn up by that word, can be left bleeding by that word.

I know that their pain is real.

I know that their tears are wet.

And I don't know what to do.

I watch people forced to apologize for the language they use because the language they use is hateful.

But disabled people are expected to expect pain.

It's their just reward.

We have people sign pledges, but only good people who already know sign pledges, we need something bigger and louder and stronger.

But I don't know what that is.

This is a ramble.

And I'm sorry.

But sometimes I'm unguarded and sometimes I trust and sometimes I'm stunned by how quickly one word changes everything about a moment.

One word.

One powerful word, so powerful that it drinks up the power from all those who hear it.

So.

What do I do?

Talk to you.

Thanks.