Can I Be Compassion Fatigued in Peace?

Speak highly of us, or don’t mention us at all.

A tired black woman

Lately, I have been a lot more frustrated than usual. If you read my last post you will know I am fresh out of a down period. But after some deep reflection, I realised this irritation came from a brand new source. For us, millennials and the Gen Z population social media is no longer just a marketing or communication tool. Instead, it is how we keep up to date on current affairs, although it can be a very dark place at times, particularly when sensitive matters are at the forefront of the conversation.

As we know, being black despite the gender has always been considered a problem for some members of society, nonetheless being a black woman has its own vitriol tied to it which I think I have now become exhausted by. Every time I step out of my work enforced bubble looking for light humour or spiritual education I am met with another tale of abuse directed towards my sisters be it verbal, physical or even resulting in death and my compassion for those who are inflicting or complicit in such experiences has worn thin.

I don’t want anyone to think that by writing this post I am dismissing the plight of my black brothers or that it is only men that are deciding to adopt this position as some members of the girl gangs silence makes them any less duplicitous. I can only write from my own experiences and if you are a black man reading this post I hope that there is content on this strange inter-web that speaks to your pain or concerns. But the intersectional marginalisation linked to being a black woman is not only something that we are subjected to by those who differ from us, but from our own counterparts who are supposed to be and sometimes attempt to mask as our protectors. In the last month the countless tales of abuse shared from prolific women and our regular-degular average Joanna’s has been harrowing to say the least, and not only are we consistently thrown these injustices but when we talk about these experiences in an effort to spread awareness and educate society we are told that we should be quiet because it isn’t a nice thing to do.

My therapeutic release and educational tools are written right here on this blog, and other women have chosen to use other formats to do the very same thing. Despite me not always agreeing with some of the views shared by some of the women who have been survivors of acts of these kinds, it doesn’t give anyone the right to silence them because of it. We have a right to tell our stories with as much anger, pain, sadness or venom we choose as they are ours to tell. As someone who has experienced abuse from close family members, sharing these experiences with men rarely ever resulted in feeling protected and cared for, but laced with silence or statements that allow the abusers to defend their behaviour. In a world where technology provides us with the opportunity for knowledge to be at our fingertips, there is no justification for anyone to lack the relevant knowledge on these matters and proves it is purely down to the choice to ignore our afflictions.

It is not our job as women to cast aside our trauma to educate or console anyone who refuses to understand that black women deserve to be treated as the beautiful human beings we are and not second rate citizens. I am generally quite a positive individual, yet I have run through my emotional bandwidth of excusing men for committing these awful and degrading transgressions, and then having to listen to a thousand reasons as to why the solution to these issues lay with us. If you were robbed and contacted the police would you be satisfied if they asked you to find the perpetrator yourself?

Regardless of our race, gender, age, abilities etc all people deserve to be respected and valued as this is a basic human right all are entitled to. Since we cannot guarantee that black women will be treated like the queens we are, I will devote all my energy to helping my sisters heal. In addition, I will fight against those who would wish harm on them simply because they were born. Anyone needing lessons on how to stop disrespecting us the library is 2 roads over on the left.