This writing is for all Black bodies. Black bodies feeling the potency of this moment. Black bodies riding peaks of hope and troughs of overwhelm. Black bodies navigating fogs of anxiety. Black bodies who are angry. Black bodies feeling called to do more. Black bodies who are tired.

Lately, it’s been hard to do much more than the essential. As federal troops occupy and threaten to occupy blue cities, as the country reckons with its violent foundation and perpetuation of systems of racial injustice, I’ve felt I should be doing more. Protesting. Educating. Calling folks in. My body though? It wants to sit in the sun on my front stoop. Eat cherries. Read. Cuddle with my dog. Nap. That’s about it.

In addition to the obvious challenges of being a bi-Racial, Black woman in a racialized society in a pandemic, in this time of racial reckoning I’ve felt an additional pull on my time, energy and attention from white bodies. For the first time white folks are showing up in my inbox requesting time to “connect,” “partner” and “vision.” I’m increasingly getting pulled into conversations about racism, privilege and identity among white friends, family and folks I don’t really even know. Side note: No, there is no such thing as “reverse racism.” My Instagram and Facebook followers are inexplicably growing. I’m receiving more requests to facilitate, contribute and speak — for free. Rather than questioning, “why now?” I’m left with an exasperated, “of course.”

This is an article originally published on Medium.com. Click below to read more.