The Trouble With Being Informed

When my husband and I first got together, we really connected on progressive political discourse.  We watched the news together, read and discussed articles and books together, tuned in to NPR and were obsessed with documentary and independent film.  For me, it was perhaps the first time I was with someone whose priority was not my body and what it could do for him...yes it, not me.  And for him, it was the first time he could discourse with a woman, a woman of color, and feel challenged.  This mutual interest and connection was really at the heart of our relationship for some time.

Then, we got pregnant and had Myki, the beautiful brown boy that is now the center of our lives.  For the last five years, I have mostly shied away from the news, the radio, non-fiction books and documentaries.  I just opted out of this big part of our relationship and connection.  Layered on top of that was a dampening of our physical relationship as I struggled with my new bigger, looser, stretch-mark ridden body and the new function of my breasts with a nursing baby.  Looking back, this was so unfair to my husband, a man who loved me and gave me love and affection unconditionally throughout this time.

What prompts this relationship confession you ask?   I have just recently started watching the news with him again, a conscious decision to proactively do something kind for this man I love so deeply.  In deciding to return to the news, I had to really dig deep and examine what took me away from this interest five years ago.

Fear, despair and pain.  To be informed hurt my feelings too much, it hurt and still hurts me deeply.

If inequality is rising, if the middle class is disappearing, if poor people are dying and no one cares, people are drowning in debt and no one can help, if young boys and men who look like my little boy all grown up can get shot for no reason (or a litany of reasons depending on your perspective), if tea partiers can insult the President of the United States under the guise of patriotism and there's an entire section of America who fears and hates me and people like me....if all of this is true, than how on earth am I supposed to protect and nurture this perfect child.  How am I supposed to raise him up in this country that is historically and systemically designed to keep him down?

There was a time I felt empowered to make the world a better place.  But after having my son, the embodiment of my emotions and sensitivities, the balance between making the world a better place and survival and prosperity for my little family shifted.  I closed ranks and cared less about the world and more about my small world and what I could do to counter the socioeconomic trends of this country, what the numbers said we were supposed to be and achieve.  

There are more issues here than can be discussed in this short piece and being informed is still a challenge for me.  But recently my perspective has shifted...

My relationship is strengthened by critical discourse and the idea that together, we can build a confidant and compassionate man prepared to navigate what awaits him in the world. 

I want to be the kind of person who can discuss and defend my beliefs about what is happening in this country.

I am strong, stronger than the person I've been these last five years hiding away in trash tv and public interest stories.

And to really know and understand the historical, political and social aspects of these sobering realities is perhaps the only way I can ever make any of it better.