I Think of Charlottesville: One Year Later

Today is the anniversary for the Charlottesville protests. It was not a good look for the United States. Armed men came into a Virginian town, with the police allowing them to roll in, and somehow they received a permit. Counterprotestors arrived, because they knew that we don’t want a country that is founded on racism. A white supremacist drove a car into the crowd, murdering one woman and injuring others. Afterward, someone said there was “blame on both sides”.
There was hope that we would prove this behavior — white supremacy and senseless murder — was unacceptable. Some who marched with the “alt-right” lost their jobs, and their illusion that they were good people. Virginia is preparing to prevent other tragedies from occurring. And yet, the white supremacists march today. The counter-protesters have reappeared, because we can never accept his as unacceptable.
Anger fills me. So does disappointment. I am a woman of color, that comes from a family of intellectuals and immigrants. Being Indian, we are considered a “model minority” and some of my relatives are ignorant of their privilege. My parents came to the United States and built a life for my four siblings and me. The past few years have revealed that people are just utterly deplorable when they become white supremacists. Or rather, when they reveal who they really are. It says a lot about what people decide to talk about, or do. The “both sides” fallacy is utter nonsense because the counter-protesters did not run a car over anyone, or brutally beat them into a pulp. You all ought to know better if you decide to march for “white power,” and you will face consequences.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow that there are people who will always hate me for existing, and they don’t even know I exist. It helps that I haven’t been involved in the gaming industry. Having to keep swallowing this pill over and over again, as more news breaks, means that I feel like a constant goldfish, swimming around and not remembering what this side of the round, enclosed bowl looked like. History is a series of circles, rather than a straight line. Calling white supremacists always rising from the ground like cicadas, or wasps after their nest is destroyed, would be an insult to the cicadas or the wasps.
Do not forget Heather Heyer, or the 19 others lucky enough to survive the car collision. Do not forget the 35 injured, or those assaulted in the dark. Do not forget the Virginian governor bluntly saying that white supremacists are not welcome. We need to find a way to break the cycle.

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