It seems that people in power, the people who know of nothing but privilege love to gaslight the less fortunate. They accuse others of lacking grit. The people of privilege know nothing of grit.
They don’t know what it’s like to wake up at 3AM because their spouse cannot wake up on their own for their new job.
They don’t know what it’s like to be ignored in meetings, only for the white male colleague to be praised for saying the same thing they were ignored for saying.
They don’t know what it’s like to do everything perfectly, because to not do so, or to even protest will cause them to be labeled as manic, difficult, unreasonable.
They don’t know what it’s like to allow people to use them, because to ask for their needs to be respected is contingent on being an asset, a fantasy.
They never grit their teeth when someone calls them kind, knowing that their kindness cost them so very much.
They don’t know what it’s like to cry at precisely 9:34 PM every Sunday night, tears spilling from clenched eyes, sobs quietly dying in their throat because there is no break, there is no mercy.
They don’t know what it’s like to sacrifice, only for every system to close around them.
They never were given the empty balm of “it’s a them problem”. They never wondered how many them problems more it will take to break them.
They don’t have grit. Not one microscopic grain of it.
These train conversations are passing me by
And I don't have nothing to say
You get what you pay for
But I just had no intention of living this way
I need a phone call, I need a plane ride
I need a sunburn, I need a raincoat
– Counting Crows (Raining in Baltimore)