So, I figured out a good reason to keep a blog. To talk about the things, which I don't bother people in "real life" with. Not because the things are unimportant. They are just.... too serious.... for most people to enjoy.
It was an unusual event on Sunday. My brother, mother, and I were planning to have dinner together. This hasn't happened in 5 years or more and for good reason. After meeting at my house, we spent half an hour driving around trying to find a Chinese restaurant we used to frequent. Finally, we spotted the familiar building complete with it's graffiti and flickering neon lights. The inside is just as we remembered. Empty. We sit at a booth and stare at each other for awhile. Suddenly, a huge grin splits across my brother's face as he begins to update us about his old friend's adventures. I recall the boy he mentions as a handsome boy with ambitions of modeling and, like most of my brother's friends, completely engulfed in the world of drugs and theft. I was happy to hear that the boy started to straighten up his life. He was engaged, has a good job, and just finished up the army with honorable discharge. Then, horror overtook me, when my brother recounted the videos his friend took in Iraq. Videos of this handsome boy driving army vehicles at dangerous speeds and shooting the vehicles that got in his way. Videos of this boy, who used to tussle my hair, playing target practice on any pedestrians who happen to be along that road. My brother ends the story with a laugh and a comment somewhere along the lines of "good ol' Alex." My mom chuckles as I stare at both of them in disbelief.
Are we really that desensitized? I understand that I'm a pretty sensitive and empathetic person. But, this isn't normal... is it? I have stopped reading political magazines at the Y, because I have sprouted tears on a couple occasions. Yeah, I know that it's easy to be oh poor Iraqis while I'm paying money to stand on a machine that simulates running. Running in my puma pants and Nike shoes that are probably made in some sweat shop. What do my tears mean when the next moment I am guzzling the gas that we're fighting this war for. Paying taxes to a country that tries to break their soldiers down until they lose their humanity. People laugh at me when I talk about these things... why worry about things you can't help... you cannot let something like that effect you or you'll get burnt out. Yeah, I probably can't change how soldiers are trained. But, I can't help but feel. I haven't been broken. Yet.
Also, I understand that a lot people don't like this whole Seattle-lite.. I want to change the world... idealist sentiments. But, that's why it's here on my blog and a word of warning... there will be more to come.
3 comments:
jennette! it's okay to be upset about the stupid shit our country is doing, or about politics. it's important to think about that stuff. and you can SO do something about it - you can't singlehandedly stop wars from happening, but you can do educational and political work that will help make the world into a place where wars aren't welcome. social and political change happens slowly, so slowly that it's sometimes hard to see it within one lifetime, but that doesn't mean you have no affect on the world. i'm so glad you started keeping a blog to start talking about this stuff. :)
Lindsay! Lets travel to Prague this summer then move to Berkeley next year and change the world together!
It's good that you had disbelief, and sad that your brother and mom need some too. "Good old Alex" has become dishumanized, perhaps by his experience in Iraq. Be very thankful that you have empathy and sympathy, qualities that will serve you well.
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