Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

The same scene has been repeated many times. We say we want something better for our collective public health, but give into tyranny to prove a point. Some many now wonder what could be done. Honestly nothing. Many of us are tired and sick and tired of being tired. Nothing at this point can sort out a world where we choose incompetence as leadership right as we sail from the brink of a pandemic made worse by said incompetence.

We will always be in this painful muddle, that we deserve every thing crazy coming at us and this is just the tip of the iceberg, electing someone as unfit as RFK for our collective health and wellbeing. If I’m being pessimistic, welcome to the windows of what America constantly puts on display. Only this time, we are not window shopping, many of us are fighting for the dear lives of people we continue to loose all because health isn’t a fundamental right for all.

That is why I turn to the skies and smile at any bright star I see along the way, like the many here at the 36th IPVC conference. What a welcome relief to see science in action and many demanding we do what we already know how to do like eliminate cervical cancer once and for all. No woman, I repeat, no woman deserves to die from a cancer preventable that it’s sickening that we still find ourselves here.

But I want to dream. In times of rain, they say new things appear, like air, grass, even the gentle rain that fall on our heads, nourishes us in ways that speak life. In times of storms, all things cease to remain, air, grass, even the chaos that follows reminds us of how fragile life is. And it is chaotic for many dark like me, many without voice, many female, many young. Being walkers of the dawn, we have been told to not be afraid of the night, not be afraid of the gloom, and certainly not be afraid of darkness. And though we may not know what tomorrow may bring, we sail through the storms to rain, certain that if nothing else, at least eyes will open.