WHO THE HELL IS THE SYSTEM--and WHO AM I REALLY FIGHTING?

Who Is the System—and Who Am I Really Fighting?

Today, I woke up thinking about the condition of the world we live in. I thought about the “system”—this force I claim to fight against every day. The System. The Man. The Government. The way things are.

But is it really a “system”? Can you truly fight against something you don’t fully understand?

Google defines a system as: A set of things working together as parts of a mechanism or an interconnecting network; a set of principles or procedures according to which something is done; an organized framework or method; the prevailing political or social order, especially when regarded as oppressive and intransigent.

If that’s the case, then a system is made up of interconnected parts—us. We are the system. If the people who live under the system are the very parts keeping it alive, then why can’t we change it?

That’s the real conflict.

To control a system, you must first be organized. So maybe the issue isn’t just the system—it’s our inability to organize against it. But then, why is organization so hard for us? It depends on your lens.

If we focus on that final definition—the prevailing political or social order—then it becomes clear: those in power have mastered the art of organization. They are winning that fight.

So again, if the only thing standing between us and freedom is the ability to organize, why don’t we? Why do we continue to allow this one barrier to keep us from changing the system?

I believe it’s fear.

We’re scared to change what’s already been done. We fear the unknown—what might happen if we actually take power into our own hands. And when I say “we,” I’m talking about the oppressed.

You might say, “No, Valerie. People don’t want to be oppressed. That’s insane. People didn’t want slavery. People didn’t want the Holocaust. People didn’t want genocide.”

And I agree. I’m not saying we wanted those things to happen. But once they did—why did we ever allow them to happen again?

Let’s look at examples:

• The Jewish community responded to oppression with unity, strategy, and organization. When they said “Never again,” they meant it.

• White women responded with the Feminist Movement. “Never again,” and they mobilized.

• The LGBTQ+ community said “No more,” and laws changed, marriage equality happened, progress was made.

Now let’s talk about the Black community.

Yes, we had the Civil Rights Movement. Yes, we had Malcolm X, the Nation of Islam, Affirmative Action, and years of social justice movements. Every year, we rally and protest.

George Floyd’s murder ignited a global uprising. COVID-19 made it impossible to ignore what we’d been enduring for decades.

But then—almost immediately—it was back to business as usual. Another name. Another headline. Another hashtag. And what did we do?

We shook our heads.

We’ve grown desensitized, weary, numb.

Now, we’re in a time when the enemy is bolder than ever. Our very existence is under threat. Everything we fought for—equality, equity, justice—is being dismantled with the stroke of a pen.

And what do we do? Some protests. Some tweets. A few statements. But mostly, again... we shake our heads.

Don’t get me wrong—I see the barriers. The injustice. The traps that have been strategically placed to divide, distract, and destroy us. I see how we’re turned against one another, made to believe that “they” are the problem.

They’re taking our jobs. They’re violent. They’re lazy. They’re raising taxes.

But ask yourself: Who the hell is “They”?

We buy into this “They Theory.” We direct our anger at the wrong people. And that anger keeps us from uniting, from organizing, from creating real change. We let their narrative define us. We play the roles they assigned us.

You think I’m wrong?

When was the last time we truly came together on anything since Obama’s election? Most of us can’t even come together for a family reunion—how are we going to unify for change?

And let’s be real about Obama. People expected him to be the Great Black Hope. A savior. As if one man could undo centuries of oppression. We’re always looking for someone to lead us, someone to save us…(Except for some—the real Savior—but that’s another conversation.)

So I ask again:

Who is really the system? And who am I really fighting?