One morning, I began to walk to work, walking through the sprinkling airs in delight, until the skies above me drenched me in its tears. An uncontrollable cry that seemed targeted at my persona. The amount of water that began to cover my clothing led me to run under the nearest sheltered bus stop. There, I contemplated between continuing the walk that had started as enjoyable or if it were better to wait 20 minutes for the next bus.

Once the skies suddenly calmed down, releasing little to no tears, I decided to continue my normal walk to work. Eventually, when I reached a curvy sidewalk, a car drives by a puddle and I became drenched by the tears I was trying to avoid. I was avoiding getting wet, but I was defeated. Defeated by the cries of something greater. Perhaps the dampness of my clothes were the imprints of the tears of others who have been harmed by ignorance. The words stated and written have now pecked at the gates that contained such pain. The tolerance has reached its limit as the wound increases.

Through my writing, I find it easier to access my feelings and the hurt that I feel with the exposure of how the world interacts. I try to voice a critique or an idea for the hopes of awakening in consciousness or for change. I use metaphors and comparisons to get my point across. I speak as an able-bodied, USA-documented, male-identified individual's standpoint, thus creating harm toward other experiences I do not understand and will never comprehend. I do not know how it is to be a womxn-identified individual and have to live in fear how you will be treated because of the physical body you possess. I am not undocumented, so I cannot speak on behalf of the fear that exists in someone’s life because of not having a piece of paper to state you're human or the inability to access the right to see a family member in a different bordered land. I am not impacted by the inaccessibility this world exists on for people with disabilities.

I know that my comparisons and metaphors can only lengthen the misinformation and stereotypes that have not been dismantled. It is my responsibility to speak up, but it is my responsibility to not erase people because I have the capacity to voice myself freely in certain areas. I am not the experiencer so I am incapable of knowing all the rights that have been stolen.

I apologize for the harm I repeated with my actions in this cyclical world pattern. I know that I have a responsibility to simply listen to everyone fully. To let people heal through listening and help as they would like me to help. I have the ability to write and voice my own experiences. Writing has been a process for my healing and having others understand my past and current situations. I will continue to do that to create bridges for people with shared experiences as myself.

Only with fighting for my own rights will I be able to support others who it is my time to stand alongside.