Good Grief
Estranged family, distanced friendships, and burned bridges lay in the wake of my simple assertion that dignity is a human right. Early on I was hurt by these people who called themselves my colleagues, my friend, my family and still treated me as less than human. And, despite these losses consuming me, the grief was good.
The loss of colleagues and co-workers was very much anticipated. I know that the idea of treating all human beings with dignity has a price tag. And if it’s not profitable, then it doesn’t fly. In the world of corporate marketing in the US, everything has a price tag. That’s how we calculate ROI. In that world even those who advocate for dignity do some with the hopes that will increase profit. It’s gross. We call it virtue signaling. And it’s transparent as fuck. Like any good business leader I prepared for the losses, and developed a strategy to replace them with assets that return more valuable gains.
The friends were on the way out. The masks off racism following the Black Lives Matter movement put strain on relationships that were already tenuous. I had held on to hopes that the closest friends would someday come around. I put a lot of effort into being there for them. But they all kept their distance, and grew more comfortable in their catharsis of cheetos, beer, and sportsball. It was a lesson learned, and I have good memories from our times together. No regrets.
The members of my family who I scared away by this assertion that dignity is an inalienable human right was the most heartbreaking. What the fuck are they hiding? Ultimately, however, this only confirmed a nagging feeling I’ve had since I was a teen that my family was full of racist bigots. The exceptions were my dad and his brother, who taught me that this idea is not radical.
The reality is I can’t trust anyone who has not spoken against the terror we are being faced with. With each bridge burned, and each relationship broken, the fact was reinforced in my heart; all life is equal, and deserves to be treated with dignity. The empty spaces left behind by my lost family, friends, and colleagues backfilled with people who are aware of their fears, not overcome by them. And, between us all is the very moderate and simple idea that all humans are deserving of the same dignity and respect regardless of gender, race, or creed.
Today I am surrounded by people who share this basic belief. Those ruled by greed, fear, and aggression have gone out with the tide. I have been blessed with a new family that I never believed would be possible. I have new friends who are confident enough to voice their support for a world where all humans are treated with dignity and respect. And I have a new vocation to write hard and clear about the things that hurt.
Those normalized to the horrors of genocide, forced starvation, and ethnic cleansing will likely no longer find companionship in my company. But that’s a them problem. I’m confident that my moderate stance that all people have a right to dignity is correct. Good grief.