About twenty-five years or so ago, I began noticing and illuminating what I saw as a series of systemic problems, discrepancies and the impact they were having (and would have) on us psychologically and emotionally, especially here in this country. Many deemed my critique racially motivated, debatable—lacking scholarly luster. In other words, no one was interested in what I had to say.
Why?
Because I am a woman. I am Black. I am a Lesbian. Who wanted to hear a Black Lesbian’s critique of relationships, American systems of injustice, inequities and patriarchy twenty-five years ago? Everyone was thriving and couldn’t see a damn thing wrong with the moral compass in this country or where it was heading. We didn’t even take my friend Marianne Williamson’s best-selling book, “Healing the Soul of America,” seriously because she wrote books based on the secular text called the “Course in Miracles” and was writing and teaching us about life, politics, the direction of this country and spiritual matters. We didn’t want to hear or read about a spiritual teacher (or a Black lesbian) talk about the intersectionality of relationships, systems, politics and spirituality.
I was raised in the South (until I was 20), a descendant of slaves. I’m the first person in my family to attend graduate school. What an honor! I couldn’t un-know what I was learning and experiencing. When someone with my demographics is forced to navigate society sober (gratefully), from the margins—from the social and economic location of an oppressed class—reality is quite clear.
These days, some will attempt to debate or dismiss my critique, experiences and questions I raise. And yet, there has been almost a complete disregard of a confirmed, indisputable global pandemic: a clear sign that American systems and ideologies are failing.
Crises as monumental as these always contain messages, lessons and wake-up calls about past wreckage, failures and future possibilities.
Perhaps, during these next few weeks, the anxiety and worry that will come with being quarantined will give us time to reflect on such crucial existential concerns.
Here is the first lesson that Coronavirus is sending us. And us, meaning, all of us human beings as a whole – The party’s over!
Coronavirus is a warning about the kind of age we face: a slow evolution into possible catastrophe.
No human generation has ever faced such an age before—and we have mostly buried our heads in the sand or in the clouds about it all.
I don’t blame us; it’s not easy to face that.
Coronavirus warns us that it is going to affect us all. No country or society will remain unscathed—and, in order to survive it: we are going to have to change pretty fucking radically how we think, live, behave, and believe!
Things are going to change one way or the other; through our own agency—or by the forces of nature.
My point is not to scare or frighten you.
But the way that we have been living as human beings is similar to a big drunken frat party.
No, certainly not all of us. Our systems and institutions have failed—as well as the ideas and theories behind them.
Nothing matters but consumption—of the stupidest kind, too.
It’s all about consumption—sometimes celebratory consumptions like violence, rape and assault.
It’s about the consumption, not just of idle pleasures—but consumption in a deeper and truer way—exploitation.
The women show up, eager to please the patriarchs, who are mostly hoping to abuse, control and violate them.
The band of patriarchs is founded on violence. This sounds brutal, but you get my message.
Our world is governed by exploitation and abuse, whether it’s exploiting and abusing the planet, each other, democracy, or the future and it’s organized by the patriarchs for their own selfish gains.
This is the rationale of Capitalism—which is precisely why we were vulnerable to a pandemic in the first place, since a lot of us have no healthcare.
Why is it that decades of partying, blacking out, living unconsciously, numbing out have left us depressed, broke, desperate, powerless, and at the hands of the most violent, ignorant, self-centered leaders? That’s what drunkenness and unconsciousness do.
But the party’s over, my friends. That is Coronavirus’ first message and warning.
I was watching an old movie last night, “Planet of the Apes,” and it compelled me to think that, if an alien civilization such as Caesar and the Ape Soldiers and their families took a look at us, they’d probably say something like, “Humans are dangerous. They’ve trashed their planet. They’ve dumped their oceans full of plastic. They’re irresponsible and foolish. The richest top 1% among them exploits the next 10%, who then exploit the remaining 90%. Because their economy is built on exploiting and annihiliating each other, they haven’t even begun to do basic things, like provide every human being healthcare, education and retirement. And even then …they didn’t learn the lesson.”
The Apes weren’t concerned about exploiting or conquering anything; they only fought humans who were trying to kill them. They just wanted to survive—to live in peace.
The party’s over, my friends.
We can no longer treat the planet, the future, human civilization, and our own societies like garbage. We cannot treat everything on earth—each other, our truer and better selves as worthy only of contempt. We can no longer think of nature and her gifts as ours to squander.
We can no longer treat each other as though we are disposable — dictated by a band of patriarchs, assorted in great hierarchies of violence and abusiveness, like, for example, a certain President’s entire movement.
We can no longer have an economy based simply on consumption and over-medicating to numb the pain of the—exploitation, abuse, meaninglessness, emptiness and worthlessness.
We can no longer pretend to laugh it all away on Twitter and Facebook while being tossed and turned by fear, panic and anxiety all through the night.
We can no longer have a world where four hundred people hoard the resources the other 9.99999 billion need to live full and good and decent lives.
We can no longer go on being conditioned by our failed institutions and ideologies into believing that everything that I have just said is remotely sane, thoughtful, good, or desirable.
When I reflect on the world right now, I see that picture in my head. The morning after … coming to … from a drunken blackout!
We’re waking up to the consequences of an exploitative, abusive, predatory way of life, model of economics, and type of society and culture. We are waking up to the consequences of a world still built on patriarchy, repression, supremacy, and capitalism—all horribly corrosive, self-destructive, obsolete ideologies, practices and ways.
The smell of trash is everywhere and there are some of us are still drunk, over-medicated, numb, hungover, and passed-out.
Staggering around in the harsh sunlight, rubbing our eyes.
Thinking, I can’t believe this is happening. Can this be real?
Yes, it’s real.
It’s like we can see clearly for the first time.
My teacher, Hedy Schleifer’s sent this quote which I think is an ideal way to end this essay: “Very few people know that there are special angels, whose only job is to make sure we do not get too comfortable, and fall asleep, and miss our life.” The “angels of discomfort” are indeed all around us.”
In radical gratitude for life and living and this community,
Paula
