Hard Chew

My website is my place on the internet where I showcase my artwork, try to make connections for selling my artwork and as well as advertising my services as an artist and art teacher for art workshops. I love sharing the artwork that I make and my personal artistic processes with people who are as passionate about art making as I am. This is what this website has been created for. This is what I need it to be.

That all being said, I need to acknowledge that 2020 has been difficult from the get-go. To put it more bluntly, it has really, really sucked on a variety of different levels. Not just for me personally, but for the entire planet. I hit a wall yesterday after being in what I would consider a low-level panic attack space for about a week. I desperately wanted a very large gin and tonic, or two or three of them. Having no alcohol on hand, I crawled into bed to escape into sleep. I just needed everything happening to go away, even for a short time.

When I woke up several hours later, I realized that I hadn’t felt the way I was feeling since the results of the last presidential election were revealed. I just shut down for about 72 hours. I was in shock. I was in disbelief. I spent part of the time crying. Everything just felt so wrong to me. So incredibly wrong. And there was nothing that I could do about it. I just had to get through it.

I felt powerless then, and I feel powerless now. I’m an American expat. I live in central Finland. I adore living and working in Finland. No country is perfect, but for me, Finland is a great place to be, especially here. I live in a university town within a large and incredibly diverse international community of students and families. Living here has given me a greater degree of understanding of the world as a whole. The friends that I have made have helped me to grow as a person. And for that I am eternally grateful. I am a much better person for having known them, talked to them, worked with them, studied with them and eaten meals with them.

When preparing to move here to attend school, I was told by a family member that I had to remember that I was “representing” my country. No pressure there! Seriously? I was to represent the entirety of the United States of America? Was I to represent only the good bits? Was I to leave out all of the icky bits? You know, the things that the US isn’t proud of, or ignores, and perhaps sweeps under the rug and hopes that no one asks about them? I decided to represent myself instead, and I hope that has been enough for the people I have me and the friends that I have made.

This brings to me to the ‘ugly underneath’ part of my post today. The part that is so incredibly hard to chew and swallow. The truth. The really, really, really ugly truth. Made more difficult by those who do not see it as a truth. Systematic, institutionalized racism is Godzilla-sized huge in the United States, and it has been for hundreds of years. I’ve known this for years. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’ve been an unwitting participant in it through my own white privilege. I’ve been shaken to the core of my being at the images of police brutality towards those protesting in US cities. I cannot fathom how the police think that what they are doing to protestors is moral or ethical.

Here’s the thing though, black people in the US are far too familiar with this kind of brutal treatment by the police than I could ever possibly be. Yeah. I’ve been arrested. I was treated with kid gloves. The arresting officer made personal calls for me on my behalf. He refused to ‘put me in the tank’ with the other women in custody, because I ‘didn’t belong in there’ with those sorts of people. I posted bail and was back at work in the same day. I didn’t lose my job. I didn’t lose my car. I was not beaten. More importantly, I did not fear for my life when I was arrested, cuffed, put in a police cruiser and taken downtown. My personal belongings were returned to me. The arresting officer didn’t allow them to be checked-in; he held my crocheted, black bag and waited for me to be bailed out. Then returned it to me personally.

I never once feared for my life. I never once thought, “I might die today.” or “I hope he doesn’t hit me.” or “I hope the officer doesn’t rape me.”

Why didn’t I have these fears? Because I’m white. I’m a white woman. The arresting officer didn’t want to arrest me, but there had been a bench warrant issued for my arrest and he had no choice but to arrest me.

My arrest was a veritable tip-toe through the tulips. I laughed and joked with the officer. I laughed and joked with the nurse who took my medical information. I had everything explained to me thoroughly and thoughtfully by every person I encountered during my processing at the police station. I was treated with kid gloves. I think I would have been given a coffee if I had asked for it.

Now. Let’s contrast my arrest with someone like Sandra Bland. Or Philandro Castile. Neither of these people had a bench warrant. What was the big difference between them and me?

So.

Hmmm…

My heart hurts. I’ve felt so powerless to do anything to help. Then, I started reading my cousins Facebook page and I decided that there were some things I could do. Chief among them was to be vociferously anti-racist, calling people out and letting them know what they were doing and saying were not okay at all.

Confront racial injustices even when it’s uncomfortable” Y

So…it should be incredibly clear as to which side I have chosen to align myself. Because until black lives matter, no lives will matter to those who hold the power.

Thank you for reading, and I will talk to you all again soon,

 

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XTC, ‘The Ugly Underneath‘ Nonsuch. 1992.

Courtney Ahn Design

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