conviction

I struggle quite a bit with holding steadfast in that which I believe, while also making space for those who would never so much as feel empathy towards me. To be clear; I perform this understanding flawlessly. I grew up in a place which fostered a hatred for me and who I am, I had friends who would refer to me in such terrible ways under the guise of "irony", and biological parents who were...complicated. There isn't a word left in the world which can harm me in any meaningful way.

However, when you work with your community, you're bound to reach your hand across, and support someone who would rejoice in your suffering. I've given food to individuals who truly do not remember calling me slurs. Exchanges that become lodged in my mind. I can recall the day, their clothes, the reason for having been there at all. We lock eyes, they thank me, and move on. I say I don't mind, and there is some truth to this, but when I look back waiting for some regretful exchanged glance, one in which our eyes might catch for the last time, and I can see them remember; I am left staring at nothing. I don't think I want an apology, I think I just want to be remembered.

I'm agnostic in my materialism, but I can understand the conditions which lead an individual to where they might be. I've had to escape such environments, unlearn many hateful ideas, make apologies where necessary. But ironically, this empathy of mine is the very thing from which my struggle emerges. I'm both angry at these people for not having caught up, but I'm also unsure that it is even worth my time to do anything other than leave them alone. If you truly find conviction in an ideal or ideology, would you not evangelize? Would you not do everything in service of this concept which is held so close to your heart? What does it mean when I think to myself "god, they're just not worth my time"?

I perform this understanding flawlessly. Advocate for "meeting them where they are." Hold myself accountable when I fail in my convictions. But still I struggle with this, day in and day out. The tale as old as time, the argument of a "true and pure" altruism. Do my actions absolve the nature of my heart? Does a warm bowl in the hands of one who hates me, wash clean the hatred I have for them? I want to be remembered, but not as they've forgotten me.