Obviously. I mean...Jesus Christ. Obviously.
  1. I can't say anything more eloquent or meaningful than better speakers and writers than I already have.
  2. But
  3. Silence doesn't suit any of us any more.
    Not that it ever did.
  4. I moved to NYC 6 weeks after 9/11, and today in New York, it felt shockingly similar to the days after that tragedy.
  5. Today, nearly everyone I saw looked a bit shell shocked.
    Mouths slightly agape, eyes a little wild, you know the look.
  6. On the subway, 3 black men were talking about everything, and I just wanted to join them, to give them my heart, and I didn't know how.
    Because they were strangers, and because I didn't want to intrude, and because it's all very hard and confusing.
  7. But I did it, even though I felt kind of ridiculous.
  8. I said "Hi. I want to talk too. I know I'm just a little white girl with a funny headband, but I'm also a person and a mother, and I want to be a part of this conversation. Will you allow me to participate?"
    And you know what? They welcomed me so sweetly. Even with my silly headband.
  9. We talked about our broken hearts. We talked about our fear and frustration and feelings of impotence.
  10. One said "I don't want to be negative, but it feels like we're all leaning towards chaos, like the end days are coming."
    It's nearly impossible not to feel apocalyptic at this moment in history, isn't it?
  11. The other man said "I get stuck because I don't know the right way to behave and react. If I get angry, I might get hurt. If I stay silent, someone else will."
  12. It was so hard for all of us to say these words to each other, and so painful to feel so hopeless.
  13. But it also felt right for all of us to be talking like that. Talking openly about race and fear and love and what to teach all of our children. And it felt like a gift for me to get to *listen* to them talking about their fears and very real and scary experiences, to be allowed into this conversation.
  14. Like in the days after 9/11, today I saw the bubbles of anonymity that protect us in this city kind of crack a little, as I saw conversations like this happening everywhere.
    We all felt busted open inside, and our hearts were yearning for connection.
  15. I guess that this should make me feel a bit hopeful, this tearing down of walls, the communication with strangers who felt like friends because we all just wanted, needed, to CONNECT to our fellow humans, to say "HELLO I AM HERE AND I HEAR YOU AND I WANT IT TO BE SO DIFFERENT TOO."
  16. But how much tragedy did it have to take for us to talk to each other?
  17. And how much more will it take for the talk to turn to useful, effective, and appropriate action?
  18. I really don't want it to be the end days.
  19. I want to have hope that it's the beginning of something better.
  20. But dear God, there is so much hate.
  21. Let it stop with us.
  22. Please let it stop now.