A few months ago, we had a rare snowstorm on the weekend, with a total of eight inches. (Don’t laugh. It was a big deal. We’re a snowplow-optional state.) It was a rare weather event for the Mid-Atlantic, where the forecast for a snowflake or two sends everyone running to grab extra milk, bread, and toilet paper. Rare enough that I peeked at the online snowplow map and found out we wouldn’t be plowed out until Tuesday morning, at the earliest. It was time to chill. I baked bread and read… a perfect snow day!

The backyard flock tried to find food and quickly took advantage of our feeding stations. Juncos, cardinals, wrens, bluebirds, woodpeckers, and sparrows provided great entertainment for Stewart, my constant companion. The snow, once sparkling and pristine, was covered with bird tracks everywhere. What once was smooth, gently drifting piles of snow, quickly shifted to some kind of bird Morse code.

Watching the little bird tracks all over my yard intrigued me. The littlest of feet transformed a whole landscape. The purest of situations marred by every bird wanting to be “head bird.”

Microaggressions are like this… impacting what once was beautiful and new, i.e. our human relationships, and transforming them into a mess. The birds’ footprints were a visualization to me of the phrase, “a death by a thousand cuts”, one that is used by those writing about microaggression. Being a person of privilege, I rarely stop to think about the toll that microaggressions have on my friends and colleagues who are not white-skinned like I am. I have listened to my friends and coworkers stories, read and educated myself, but never really got the full impact. Not really. Something as simple as footprints captured my imagination and curiosity.

What if I could “see” the impact my behaviors cause in real time? What if I could hear myself and shut up before I say hurtful words? What if I had the courage to call out those whose actions and words wound people, who, because of their politics and power, seem unable to advocate for justice and kindness and inclusion? How can I validate those who have been deeply hurt, and not make excuses for myself, my education, and my ignorance?

Questions which have no answers…

Microaggressions create an impact that does not just go away. Blow after blow, the words, questions, and assumptions made by those of use who are (still) clueless really add up. Generations and generations were and are being affected. And my “little” mistakes contribute to the pile. I know better. I will do better.

Blessed be.