My Weekend Crush

Damn. Just damn. I’ve watched the video for “March March” by The Chicks (because there ain’t no more Dixie) at least half a dozen times. And each time it gives me chills. And each time it makes me cry. Each time. It’s the names at the end. The names, the names. The endless flashing of humanity cut short by the indelible scar of racism that for 400 years has plagued this country and continues unchecked systematically in every aspect of our lives from policing to education to health care to our political process. My God, those names. Each a life. Each gone because America has never dealt with its racist foundation.

I’ve made no secret about my admiration of The Chicks (yes, really, they changed their name because that’s what good humans do - they grow and evolve). They’ve always been outspoken and brash and unashamed to say how ashamed they were of that previously shitty Republican President from Texas. And you know they’re mortified by the monster we have now. The video doesn’t contain a single still of the faces of the country trio. Instead it shows the power of us, the people. And, just as powerful, it shows our joy. The joy of a righteous struggle. Make no mistake what we are going through right now, what we are fighting for in the streets, it is the most righteous cause humanity can champion. Nothing is more important than equality, the right to be seen and treated as fully human. Plus, the song slaps. Like for real. Have a safe, healthy and righteous weekend, all.