I would run cartwheels right where I stood if you showed up at my doorstep, if you suddenly sat in the audience during my Indian dance or Improv theater performance. I would remember it forever if you showed up at the airport to say goodbye for now or welcome back, I would love for you to ask me where in the world I am at. I would love for you to reach out to me and ask us to read the same book simultaneously and then meet over coffee to share our thoughts, It doesn't take much time out of your schedule or much effort of sorts, just a suggestion, a thought. I would love to go out for a joint run or jog- maybe for once right here in my hood- you could use my studio apartments little one person shower, My home, my little wonderful life- You know you are welcome here too. Meet me in my life, see where I live and what I do, it might not be marriage and children, or a big suburban house with a yard, but it is me, your friend- still hanging on at the other end. Someone who shows u
Remember those illustrated circles of holding hands, with different ethnicities and all kinds of flags, remember the schools teachings of UN children's convention- a right to be safe- and the hope it gave, "From now on they would all be treated the same." If a pact was broken, the protector would never cave- like a lioness it would reach out and save its children (our children) from pain. Instead, when needed, the courage is in hiding, and so are the doves of peace- they hide behind their leaves. The words are visible, but where is the care, where is the lioness in all this despair ? The west was supposed to be a creator of peace and safety, but here we are, digging a grave. Death toll is rising as we vote whether or not to intervene, Children are dying as they flee. This is where my mind is at, it is a mess, all the trust I had for the big ones; our policies- a harbor of safety, it has left. And what about our children in the west ? What are we teaching them at best