The very least we can do.
I’m afraid. A lot.
Things don’t usually get to me. But lately, I don’t know. There’s just so much going on that feels on beyond.
Control is an illusion. I get that. Somehow the violence in the world is now infiltrating my neighborhood in a way that I never imagined.
My life is one of privilege, make no mistake. I am white. I am educated. I am extremely lucky to have had my parents who raised me to be who I am.
I am also a woman fed up with our misogynistic society and yet still unsure sometimes about how to make it end. I am a victim of workplace harassment and personal relationship assault.
Last Tuesday I can’t get home. My street was closed because a murder, gun violence, happened on my block. My street. The street I chose to live on so many years ago because it felt safe to be a pedestrian.
The unintentionally homeless population is growing and with it a segment, whether due to substance abuse or improperly addressed mental health issues, of predatory and often violent individuals. There are assaults in broad daylight, attacks on men and women, young and old.
These kids in Parkland though, they are something else. These young survivors of have more composure and grace and strength than the theoretical grownups running our government that is supposed to protect them. They are articulate. They hail from a screwy place: Florida ain’t no kind of normal. Maybe that’s what it’s going to take cause these kids reaction is anything but normal. These kids kick ass. And they are about to be of voting age. #NeverAgain
So stand with these kids in the one way we all can. If you will be 18 years old by November 6th, register to vote. Do it right now. It is the very least we can do.