It was just a dream, but I awoke wondering why exactly I would dream of such a catastrophe. Maybe I have a subconscious fear of a hate for not only by race but my *** being institutionalized within my society. I skimmed through my brain searching for events that may have triggered so many tragedies:

My voice is rarely heard.
Swallowed deep into a throat of men who close their ears to avoid
the risk of damaging their eardrums with my pitchiness.
Forever straining to shout a little louder, speak a little deeper, so maybe my message is heard by my counterpart the first time.

Constantly I am undermined.
"it's fine" my male counterpart states to a student that has broken the rules.
He encourages the disrespect of his female counterparts and students simply by being more of a friend than an authoritative figure. He knows his privilege and chooses to sleep on it.

I'm tossed to the side. In a room full of people, I am drowning in myself. Isolated simply because I get frustrated with trying to catch the attention of someone that loves the spotlight. Feeding into his need to constantly be seen, by seeing him it causes him to do more to be seen. He doesn't realize I prefer smaller conversations, inside jokes, lower tones. Those moments when you can hear someone smile and eye contact is unavoidable.

I dreamt of a black women holocaust because I was feeling powerless.
As if my role in the work was losing value. My presence fading away to the point where i physically feel small. Reminiscent of my 12 year old self that didn't know how to speak up, nor how to be strong. My 12 year old self that didn't know it was okay to be prideful of my black feminisms, nor that I can be content in my lonely. All alone in rooms full of people.
But in my dream the goal was to rid me from these rooms, rid these people of me.

Maybe my dream was more than a dream.