10-minute session: trust, mountain, truth

This is part of a series called: 10-minute thoughts because I wrote it in that amount of time.

I hate policing
I hate that I police myself
I know a lot of other women, WOC, white women, who do the same
I hate that when I’m thinking about going for an interview,
I have to police what my hair looks like; after all, dreadlocks are deemed unprofessional
I have to police my entire wardrobe

I hate that when we talk about the gender wage gap
The statistic that’s thrown out there is that
A woman makes *78 cents to a man’s dollar
I want to scream and say the truth is that as a black woman makes *64 cents to the dollar
And a Latinx would make *56 cents to that same dollar
Trust me, I don’t want to enter into the oppression Olympics.

I hate policing
I hate remembering how it felt to see Philando Castile in that car
I hate the gripping fear that closes in around my throat when I see a police car behind me
Even if I haven’t done something wrong, I could do something wrong in the moment of fear or terror
When did I learn that fear? Who taught me to carry this burden up the mountain?
I hate that I don’t trust people who are supposed to protect and serve us

It has become a Sisyphean task
To remember to police myself, yet hating to do so

*not exact amounts at time of publishing

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