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I was ghosted recently. An amicable acquaintanceship suddenly vanished. I could see the 'ghoster' on line, but as far as he/she/it was concerned I no longer existed.
For a fortnight, I was haunted by questions about what I'd done to deserve the erasure. How had I offended? What had I done to become unworthy of inclusion in that seemingly privileged circle. I had been turned into a ghost and it hurt.
Since then, I've been seeing ghosts everywhere. Cleaning uncles we turn our backs on. Overloaded maids we leave trailing. Construction workers loaded on trucks like rubbish.
It appears that as a nation and as a people, we are #1 ghosters. It's an efficient strategy I suppose. Why bother to dialogue about issues that are embarassing, inconvenient or unlikely to generate profit. Far more convenient to just turn our backs, refuse to see.
But ghosting hurts. And not just the ones ghosted. It's easy to make ghosts. But, they'll come back to haunt us. And then, it'll be too late to be sorry.
Let's not be cowards. Let's open our eyes. Let's dare to engage.
Visit fb infrequently- hope YOU didn't feel I was ghosting you:) My life is distracting by way of internalizing racist police murders of my people! I have few words to write in the face of Trump/Covid-19/Life. I always hope you are well. Always sorry for your loss. Mothers are precious. Fathers, brothers and sisters we lose. Sadness finds us as we age. I miss connecting with so many but I am drained of pleasing platitudes/words evade me. Be safe, my friend in the arts. And always congratulations on conquering the world through your inspiring words!🤗 Clara.