Kate Oliverさんのインスタグラム写真 - (Kate OliverInstagram)「I kept waking up last night, afraid each time that it was all a lovely celebratory dream. That the drive we took as the sky turned to golden red and spilled over everything, where we listened and sang along to songs about waiting and hoping and overcoming couldn’t have possibly been real. The joy I felt yesterday is still present, but I am seeking a calmer acceptance this morning, that the hell that our family (and so many other marginalized people and families) has/have been put through in these last four years is going to truly be over, at least in one way. I am afraid, I think, to trust that this can be true. I’m sitting in my rocking chair this morning, coffee in hand, feeling whatever comes. At moments it is joy, at moments, fear. Sometimes overwhelming sadness. I am still aware that families like mine are still hated, that Black people are still afraid for their lives, that the virus is still running rampant, that the division is still there, even as millions of us dance in the streets. It is OKAY to feel all of this at once - I say this for myself and for anyone reading. Every emotion is okay. Throughout them all though - I do feel hope. Joy. A little bit of peace, even. There is still work to do, but the loads we are carrying have been lessened. With less on our backs, we can do more. Fight harder. Rest a little more deeply when needed. Celebrate and then get back to work. For now, check in on your LGBTQ+ and BIPOC friends in the coming days. The things we and they have been carrying are heavier, and there is still so much to carry. Reaching deep to find joy in these moments is to pull back layers of trauma and pain to find it, expose it, to bask in it. Look for the most marginalized in the celebrations. Watch the faces of those who’ve carried more. Look closely. The layers and stories will be written in every movement, every smile, every eye crinkle and tear.」11月8日 23時40分