so many fires burning

Last night, plopped on the couch watch­ing the dis­mal news flow­ing in from the world, or only parts of it be­cause it is CNN, I felt the need to apol­o­gize to my daugh­ter. No amount of AP class­es will pre­pare these kids for the mess of a world we are leav­ing be­hind.

SO many fires burn­ing.

I can’t even fo­cus my hope­less­ness on one is­sue or coun­try. Both my coun­tries are chang­ing course in the hands of peo­ple who have al­tered the mean­ing of hu­man­i­ty. It is no longer the coun­try I left be­hind. And this is no longer the coun­try I made my sec­ond home.

I don’t care any­more what your po­lit­i­cal views are and am tired of healthy de­bates when all that spews from your mouth is hate. I am a ma­jor­i­ty in one coun­try and mi­nor­i­ty in the oth­er. Yes, I am le­gal, sur­round­ed by le­gal peo­ple evad­ing tax­es, treat­ing peo­ple in­hu­mane­ly, ly­ing, cheat­ing, brib­ing, lit­ter­ing, and killing oth­er hu­mans and an­i­mals.

But some­how we are bet­ter, pro­tect­ing the bor­ders of our own mad­ness from those who we have be­come. Be­cause we did not have to flee our homes to pro­tect our kids from the dan­gers we don’t want to even think about.

And what is pol­i­tics if it doesn’t af­fect you di­rect­ly? It is just a tool to con­tin­ue your priv­i­leges that you have so well earned in the warmth of your home where your chil­dren play freely with­out their limbs be­ing ripped apart.

Peo­ple who sup­port the Trump gov­ern­ment have one fun­da­men­tal flaw. They are NOT think­ing of oth­ers. They do not have first­hand knowl­edge of im­mi­gra­tion and/or the world in gen­er­al. Their world is only this one that they think they are pro­tect­ing.

And at this point, I think we have gone be­yond right or left in this world. Ex­treme any­thing is not a good thing and aren’t we all fight­ing the ex­treme in the first place? Have peo­ple just for­got­ten that? Then why are WE turn­ing ex­treme?

So, to our chil­dren, we are leav­ing you with a LOT of blood, that is now seep­ing from our hands into your beds, book­shelves, and play­grounds. Which par­ent does not want that, right?

 

—mala paul

Flom­mist Mala Paul is a pro­tégé of the god­dess of ten hands. Form to form­less all in a day’s job. A moth­er, de­sign­er, dancer, food­ie, fash­ion­ista, blog­ger, who is al­ways ready to be the change. Copy­right © 2020 Mala P. Mullins.

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