Do turn and look. Do something.
There are places, people we have loved that still astound us by their backwardness. And because we love or loved them we cannot fail to name hate there as Hate, call out violence as Unnecessary and Cruel. Recognize a bully is a Fool.
<>I love the sticky-green of Santa Cruz, Bolivia, the crush of cars, the stop signs, broken lights, the food, the food, my tia's empanadas, pan de arroz, music, laughter, dancing, bandas, El Fuerte, the waterfalls at Cuevas, roosters echoing past 2 am.
Perhaps, eventually, we'll all be blinded by the glitter of some thing we want. Maybe it's one more bite of cuñapé, a fulcrum one more centimeter high to give more leverage, one phrase or word unchanged, or edited. Who has not been triggered when they see how clearly that thing glows, how easily it could be grasped and held? Who has not allowed frustration, fear they cannot get that thing, to bubble over into ire and unkind words?
And, perhaps, we all are nothing more than bystanders, watching from the sidewalk, cheering, even, as a grown man, looked up to by his sons, his nieces, neighbors, friends, hits a woman he loves on the street. We will say it is because she, overcome by her own anger, screamed unkind words at him. But we know that ultimately, it is because she will not obey him.
And me, I'm here hiding behind these words, behind my righteous rage.
Yet, I want my sons, and all the ones I love and loved to know that we are BETTER than this. We can think our way through problems, imagine, and articulate new outcomes. We can CHOOSE to not embody violence and hate, but look each other in the eye, breathe together, love, and speak.
Perhaps, eventually, we'll all be blinded by the glitter of some thing we want. Maybe it's one more bite of cuñapé, a fulcrum one more centimeter high to give more leverage, one phrase or word unchanged, or edited. Who has not been triggered when they see how clearly that thing glows, how easily it could be grasped and held? Who has not allowed frustration, fear they cannot get that thing, to bubble over into ire and unkind words?
And, perhaps, we all are nothing more than bystanders, watching from the sidewalk, cheering, even, as a grown man, looked up to by his sons, his nieces, neighbors, friends, hits a woman he loves on the street. We will say it is because she, overcome by her own anger, screamed unkind words at him. But we know that ultimately, it is because she will not obey him.
And me, I'm here hiding behind these words, behind my righteous rage.
Yet, I want my sons, and all the ones I love and loved to know that we are BETTER than this. We can think our way through problems, imagine, and articulate new outcomes. We can CHOOSE to not embody violence and hate, but look each other in the eye, breathe together, love, and speak.
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