El falso sueño que cimienta a los imperios

 

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Hoy terminé “Between the World and Me” de Ta-Nehisi Coates. Me entristeció como entristecen las cicatrices que sólo nos alcanzamos a ver con ayuda de un espejo.

He visto lo que “el Sueño” le ha hecho a mi país. “El Sueño” en México es la creencia de que los pobres son pobres porque quieren, de que los indios/nacos/proles deberían de dejar de tener tanto chamaco y de que deberíamos de “limpiar” las calles y construir más cárceles. Puras falsedades construidas para perpetuar la opresión de la clase dominante.

Coates habla con lucidez y furia sobre cómo el imperio gringo se construyó a base de robo, asesinato y esclavitud. Debajo del Capitolio, del mármol níveo de las efigies de los padres de la democracia estadounidense, yacen los huesos de miles y miles de cuerpos negros, dice Coates. Y a pesar de que hay quienes quisieran olvidar a todos esos cuerpos rotos, violados, vendidos, latigueados, colgando de puentes; también hay quienes como Coates nos enseñan porqué es importante levantarle las costras al pasado, mirar de cerca sus llagas, invitar a que otros lo hagan. Gracias a Coates recordé que el conocimiento es una forma de resistencia.

 
“Back then all I could do was measure these freedom lovers by what I knew. Which is to say, I measured them against children pulling out in the 7-Eleven parking lot, against parents wielding extension cords, and “yeah nigger, what’s up now?” I judged them against the country I knew, which had acquired the land through murder and tamed it through slavery.”

“Very few Americans will directly proclaim that they are in favor of black people being left to the streets. But a very large number of Americans will do all they can to preserve the Dream. No one directly proclaimed that schools were designed to sanctify failure and destruction. But a great number of educators spoke of “personal responsibility” in a country authored and sustained by a criminal irresponsibility. The point of his language of intention and personal responsibility is broad exoneration. Mistakes were made. Bodies were broken. People were enslaved. We meant well. We tried our best. “Good intention” is a hall pass through history, a sleeping pill that ensures the Dream.”

“The writer, and that was what I was becoming, must be wary of every dream and every nation, even his own nation. Perhaps his own nation more than any other, precisely because it was his own.”

“You have to make your peace with the chaos, but you cannot lie. You cannot forget how much they took from us and how they transfigured are very bodies into sugar, tobacco, cotton, and gold.”

“The Dreamers will have to learn to struggle themselves, to understand that the field for their Dream, the stage for where they have painted themselves white, is the deathbed of us all.”

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