Sometimes, I wonder why I had children.
I look at this world and my heart weeps.
And wonders, “What will be left for the children to inherit?”
There is so much violence, so much hate.
So much willful ignorance.
So much death.
Natural disasters erupt around every corner,
Driving families from their homes and shattering worlds.
I feel guilty.
That thick blanket that threatens to smother me, whispering in my ear,
“Your children are here, in this broken, battered world.
How will you protect them from the unknown?”
Our skin affords us undeniable privilege,
Privilege that is denied to so many.
It’s not right.
While Mother Nature doesn’t discriminate,
The people who come to help after her rage do.
I feel helpless.
I feel hopeless.
I feel horrified.
This is not the world I want for my children.
But it’s the world we have.
It’s the world that we have built, stone by stone,
With misguided thoughts of superiority and supremacy;
destroying so many beautiful cultures and people,
and destroying our earth in the name of Progress.
So I try my best to do better.
To emulate kindness, respect, and compassion for others.
To prove that there is still good in this world.
I throw the heavy weight from my shoulders and scream to the sky,
“This is my world.
This place that is so broken and tired.
This place is my home.
It holds such beauty, even underneath all of the tragedy.”
When my children ask, I am honest.
“I am scared too, little ones.
But in times of crisis and division, look for the helpers.
The ones reaching out to bring aid to those in need.
The ones standing tall for what is right, even when it’s not easy or popular.
Be like them, and you will be helping to make this world a better place.”