Editor’s note: If you or anyone you know needs immediate help, please call or text 988. Visit www.988lifeline.org for more info.
For more information about suicide prevention, visit www.cdc.gov/suicide/resources/prevention.html.
For more information about suicide prevention in New York, visit www.preventsuicideny.org.
Earlier this month, Dr. Antoinette Candia-Bailey, vice president of student affairs at Lincoln University-Missouri, died by suicide after experiencing bullying, harassment, and mental harm from her colleagues. Her death reminds us that we need to talk about Black women and suicide. And the constant struggle of hope.
Have you seen a squirrel chase a butterfly?
I have. Some might say there’s nothing special about seeing this. It’s nature. But for me, it was a moment that changed my life.
One day, I was out walking my regular route. As I walk past one of the houses, I look in the front yard and see a squirrel chasing a butterfly. “Huh,” I say to myself. “That’s adorable. I’ve never seen that before.” It was the first time in a long time that I found life.
I was experiencing severe abuse and I wanted to die. I hated myself. I wanted to escape from this world. Instead, I chose to escape through walking. I have always loved walking in nature. It’s when I feel the freest. It’s how I can move my body the most.
“I’ll take it.” I said to myself. “If it keeps me alive, I’ll take it.” Seeing the squirrel chase the butterfly gave me hope. A will to live. Something to fight for.
The moment lasted only a second, but it was long enough for me to receive the message. The squirrel nipped away at the air as if its mission was to eat this white butterfly. I have always thought of the butterfly as a universal symbol of transformation. Metamorphosis. Although I never thought much about butterflies before, at that moment, I saw it as hope. I laughed to myself. Hope was flying in front of me. Change was going to come.
We need to be more hopeful about hope. Hope is what anchors us in chaos. bell hooks says, “There’s a light in darkness, you just have to find it.” Something was telling me I still had some things to see that I hadn’t yet seen. Even if it’s just to see a squirrel chase a butterfly again, to keep living. I found the light in my darkness.
My focus shifted. I made the decision to leave my ex and to keep going no matter the obstacle, no matter how long it took, no matter how much he begged me to stay.
I couldn’t give up. I set the plans in motion and let trusted people know. The battle was hard. And I came out with scars. But I left. And today, I have my freedom.
Hope is not inaction. David Orr says that “Hope is a verb with shirtsleeves rolled up.” Hope is useful.
Hope can be nebulous. It’s the residue that’s left after destruction. I use an example from the comic book “The Sandman” by Neil Gaiman to illustrate. The Sandman must play a game of wits with a demon to retrieve his stolen item:
Sandman: I am the universe, all things encompassing, all life embracing
Demon: I am anti-life, the beast of judgment. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universe, gods, worlds, of everything…
Sandman: I am hope.
Because what can defeat hope? Hope may be residue, but we can do something with the residue. Make something new. Hope may be nebulous, but that means it is flexible, like time. For example, research shows that people with more access to economic resources have more time than people with fewer resources. In other words, people with resources can spend their time how they want. Hope, like time, is flexible. It can be whatever you want it to be, irrespective of your circumstances. You may not have many resources, but you can have as much hope as you want, or as little.
“Why won’t he let me go?” I would ask myself. Because the oppressor will not free you—you have to free yourself. And in those moments, I would think of Harriet Tubman. She had hope. To do what she did: escape to freedom, only to return several times to free others. Freedom was her hope. Freedom drove Harriet. And freedom drove me. Because sometimes, the only way out is through.
So whatever your hope is, let it drive you. As Mariame Kaba says in her book “We Do this ’Til We Free Us,” “Hope is a discipline.” And to be disciplined requires practice. Keep returning to whatever your hope is, even in the darkest of times. Become disciplined with your hope.
The adage is that “There is nothing new under the sun.” But as Octavia Butler says, “There’s nothing new under the sun, but there are new suns.” Each day is a new day. A new day to be hopeful. A new day to fight for hope. To be hopeful about hope.
If you feel hopeless, look for hope. Search for it. Practice it. It may take time. But one day, you will see the squirrel chase the butterfly.
So’Phelia Morrow is a Ph.D. candidate in the joint Social Work and Sociology program at the University of Michigan and a Public Voices Fellow with the OpEd Project and Equality Now.
