I remember being a kid and what it meant to grow up. Bare feet, neighbor kids, attentive parents. We had friends our age and created these elaborate scenarios inside of which we played: War, school, Partridge Family … we made up plays and sold admission to the show. We did laps underwater in a 10 foot long pool that was filled on yhe hot mornings with a hose.
We had big “Thing Sales” at the top of our neighbors driveway. We played in the giant ditch across the street. We walked to Glenn Nelson Park, we played tennis ball hockey in the playshed at our elementary school. We ate butter and sugar sandwiches, drank a rainbow of Kool Aid and begged for money when the ice cream man played that tinny tune out of the speaker on the tiny ice cream truck.
We had sleep-overs and caught bees in jars. Our Moms got together and made cookies and spaghetti sauce. If we were out with our family past dark, my Dad would swoop us up into his arms and carry us to bed.
I listened to the Seattle Super Sonics on the intercom system. I had my own room, my own bed and more toys than I ever found time to play with. My greatest fear was caterpillars, my worst injury a couple bonks on the head and skinned knees.
I never felt alone, unsafe or unwanted. That should really be a given for a young child.
This morning I read another story about children being held in cages. Now I don’t know about you, but it is something that cuts straight to my heart and I can’t help but feel broken because of it.
Here’s the thing: If you still support this President for whatever reason you have told yourself in order to justify it, I don’t want to know you. Your support, whether vocal or silent, tells me everything I need to know about you, and I have to cut you loose from anywhere near my orbit.
It feels sadly and eerily relevant to be quoting Elie Wiesel, but here it is :
” We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”