I never write about tragedies because tragedies are confusing. Tragedies evoke emotional responses that encourage people to look at the world and see it in black and white. Tragedies divide people into us and them. Tragedies suck.
The world we live in today is better than the world of yesterday. I know that’s hard to believe if you ever read the news, or if you don’t read the news but participate in any social media platform. But it is decidedly better to be alive today than any other period in history, no matter what color, gender, or social economic class you are from. Now this is a conclusion for the world as a whole, and does not apply to the individual, who may have had better days in their brief lifetimes.
I have no solution for other people’s problems. It’s a selfish response, I know. But these tragedies have reminded me how fragile life is, and how little control I have over it. While I secretly considered how lucky I am to live in warless country, have a skin color that does not elicit fear, and entered a profession that is for the time being still relevant, I know that I can still walk down my street and get shot by a rando who just thought they’d kill some people today. Then there’s the fear of the God-sent tragedies, where you can’t even find someone to blame. Like the really big earthquake that’s even bigger than the one we’ve been hearing about, or the chance that your beautiful daughter has to fight a deadly disease and even though you know it probably wasn’t something you did you keep wondering if you could have done some things differently.
I do to try to do things. I’m planning on sending this letter to mom and dad and there’s a bone marrow donation testing kit en route to my house. I’m registered to vote because Trump scares me so much not just as a bigot and horrible leader, but as the personification of so many bad things in this world. I share things that explain my beliefs way better than I can. And the thing is I know the other side is not dumb, but I still can’t help getting angry when I see people talking about how they would rather vote for Trump than Hillary because the Bern is over this season. And because I’m from Texas, I grew up with people who love their guns and will repost all kinds of fucked up NRA propaganda on how guns don’t kill people, people kill people.
That’s usually when I tell myself to take a breath, and remind myself that choices are personal. If we truly consider each other friends, we can have a sophisticated conversation, come to a mutual understanding, agree to disagree, or at the very worst, let the friendship go if the schism is too great to overcome.
I was in London on an overnight layover the day the Brexit vote results came out. I lost a bet for dinner, but the heartbreak was much more due to the realization that so many people have a different vision of how they want the world to look than I do. It feels like we are going backwards, towards an isolated world where people did not venture out of their own community and hostility took place of hospitality. I think of all the trips I’ve taken, conversations with strangers who opened my mind to new ideas, observations of cultures that shaped my own view on life, and it saddens me to even envision the possibility that the opportunity to do so would be taken away. Not necessarily because of laws and not necessarily in my lifetime, but the changing attitude towards “others”, and the increasing ways in which people define themselves into narrower and narrower categories.
Last night I had pizza with a couple of friends and spent half the time discussing the pope is doing a good job. It was my favorite kind of conversation, the kind where multiple view points were shared, escalating to a heated debate, and finally simmering down to ideas for further pondering. The evening ended with hugs and promises to see each other soon. And life goes on.
Most religions agree on one thing – life is suffering, and we must endure that suffering to get to a better place. They mostly disagree on the part about how to get there. I am not religious, but I do have faith. Even in this seemingly dark point in human history I still believe that we will overcome.
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