living between the lines.

[glass_icarus]

There's a code you learn if you live outside the system, outside the limitations of words and numbers. It's a code not hackable by anyone who lives inside the boundaries, written in flesh and blood, skin and bones. Tradition, diaspora, culture, race; the stories and histories of generations of people whose voices have gone unheard: we who live in the margins own all of these things, are all of these things, whether or not we are consciously aware of them, and it is an ownership that can never be taken away.

Outside of the system, you learn that people won't listen to you if you aren't always polite; if you raise your voice; if you say or do things that don't belong in their perceptions of reality; if you bring up the system at all, much less question it. Outside of the system, you learn that people won't see you if you dress in certain ways; that they'll only look at your clothes if you dress in other ways; that sometimes even if you were to stand in front of them naked, the only thing that would register would be the color of your skin, and that only when it suits them to notice.

Other people have written about this better than I can, this position of being on the outside, looking in. Other people have spoken in answer to the people who think that fiction is unimportant, that a story is- can ever be- "just a story." Other people have even addressed what it's like to be someone like me. As for me- well, I don't much feel like repeating myself.

Today I will not address the people who profess to be "blind to race," even with the best of intentions. Today I am not speaking to the people who look at me with blank stares and ask why this matters, because today is not for the people for whom I am not in the room when I don't have my model minority mask on: diligent, polite, holding my tongue.

Today is for my sisters and brothers, the people who share the space outside the lines, if not the precise color of my skin. Today I want to sit down next to those who are listening. I want to hear you tell whatever stories you choose to share; I want to hear your voices raised in laughter and celebration, or in tears of catharsis. Today I want to give my voice to this collective shout, so loud that it reverberates around the world, and know that I- that we- are not alone.

Outside these walls, the world is full of glorious color, of beautiful faces and rich, powerful voices. Hold the door for me; let's walk together into the sunshine. &hearts