The Desire to Erase You
The power to resist and exist in America
Read by Demian
Erasure
What can you do in the face of a fanaticism that seeks to erase you by dismantling education, rewriting history, and whitewashing the national narrative?
They haven’t succeeded yet, but they have inflicted great damage to that end and show no signs of slowing down. This has been long in the making, but now it’s no holds barred. They have expanded their sights from targeting marginalized groups to attacking the very avenues and foundation of democracy through which we preserve our freedoms and can effect change.
Certainly, this calls for us to stand together and fight to not only preserve the imperfect democracy we have, but to protect our ability to address issues, make changes where needed, and move forward into a country that stands closer to her ideals, not further away or at all.
We can hold up that “perfect” world and step up as best we can in this one.
In the face of the effort to whitewash us out of our own American history, we can become our own historians, story keepers and tellers.
We can give voice to the stories they want to erase or silence from ever being told.
Tell your stories, all of them—the stories of your family, born into or chosen, of joys shared and secrets hidden, the dreams you had as a kid, the paths you walked, or the choices you sidestepped, the people you met and the ones you wish you hadn’t, the grace of friends and strangers.
Tell the stories of the night spent in tears and the dawn that wiped them away. Open the damn doors to the front of the house, the back of the house, to closets and attics and basement.
Keep those stories alive. Pass them on.
Tell your stories, all of them—the stories of your grandparents, even if, especially if, you didn’t pay attention when you were younger. Dig deep into your memory, let them speak through you, even if they have to go through the filters of your perception and inattention.
This is war, your life you’re fighting for, your legacy, the evidence you’ve been here, and the trajectory of hope you hold for the future.
Keep those stories alive. Pass them on.
Tell the stories, all of them—the stories of your great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents, the stories that made you avert your eyes or broke you.
Don’t leave them behind in the battlefields, in the wars fought to end all wars, in the ruin of desolated towns and desecrated lives, wiped out, to be forgotten, or worse, denied or cherry picked by those seeking revenge for having lost… that time.
Don’t let the ghosts, of only a few generations back, come home to find it gone, the home fires no longer burning, the door left open for usurpers and thieves to enter and pillage.
Keep those stories alive. Pass them on.
Tell the stories, all of them. Dig them up like buried treasure—the stories of the marginalized who picked the crops and built the railroads. And invented things and discovered things that would shape the future that wouldn’t be, had it not been for their having been here… before their stories are erased, again, and we forget before we have a chance to remember.
Tell the stories of oppressors and allies, of betrayals and friendships. Use every color on that pallet.
Keep those stories alive. Pass them on.
Because Truth matters.
Even if it seems like it doesn’t today, it does.
Speak it. It listens for your voice to carry it.
Speak of what you know. Listen to what you can learn. Give Truth a path on which it can travel from heart to heart, giving and receiving, in the language of story.
Speak up. Speak softly. Speak Truth. Speak Reality.
Tell the stories of every bird that flies and beetle that climbs, the spider that spins and the coyote that sings, and the child who tumbles laughing down the grassy green hillsides.
Tell the stories of the stars and the crescent moon that hugs the horizon, the sky so enthralled with the night, and the person who sits alone looking up.
Tell the stories of the sun and the daybreak that declares that all things shall be known, of the city on the hill and the lamp that refuses to be placed under a basket.
Keep those stories alive.
For as they live, so shall we all.
What can we do in the face of such fear and hatred that seeks to erase you?
To relegate you to a footnote, that sees you as a caricature or scapegoat in their story?
What can you do?
Your heart knows. It says, “I am here, I am here, I am here.”
For every life they write out, live yours fiercely, so that every story is written into your skin, so that even if the lights go out, your voice will be heard.
“I am here.”
And another heart will answer, and another, and another…
Until a story, grander than all before, will arise, and we shall rise-up the sun, together.
From my heart to yours,
Demian ~ Silent No More
QUESTION:
What importance do family stories or stories of your culture have for you?
What story of a person’s life, well known or obscure, had an impact on your own life?
I’m a survivor and artist activist who believes in the power of creativity and using our voice. Please subscribe and walk with me as we define and fortify ourselves through stories, poetry, and song.
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As a Jew, the traditions, history, and stories of Judaism are vital to my self-identity. A well as how I see the current political moment as one of danger. I do not think you can have a coherent view of Jewish history and maintain confidence in any authoritarian regime.