Poetry series:'between the lines'
[Photo diaries] : Black Lives Matter
Giselle Storm Hyam
In the spirit of protest, in a world which has become all too similar to the inside of Charlie Brooker's head, we present our second of the photo diaries protest, the black lives matter march in London last summer.
Hands Up! Don't shoot!
I feel, especially in these times, it is so easy for us to see the news and change the channel, to scroll disinterestedly past the endless articles cluttering our news feeds, to roll over when we see the guardian app notification buzz on our phones in the mornings. It is so easy to despair, to give up, to look at a world which seems hopeless, seems unfair, which seems so much bigger than any of us. It is easy to simply hang our heads, put our hands up and say 'I'm sorry, but I can't anymore.'
But, we shout. We shout even though it seems like no one's listening, or if they are listening they don't care. We shout and we all shout together. We put our hands up and make fists, we close down streets, we close down cities, we shout and we are loud and we will keep on shouting. Even if we feel like we are shouting into a vacuum. We shout 'fuck Trump', and we shout 'no to Islamophobia', and we shout 'black lives matter'.
Because, more than ever, now is the time to be loud.
