Not one for politics

The more the pandemic carries on, the more apparent it becomes that we are so far behind the rest of the world. I see it now clearly where before it was obscure. A beautiful flag stands in front of it, covering it up. But now there are holes poking through, piercing light against a backdrop of red, white and blue.

Where is all that you promised? We need you.

And everybody is yelling, go back to work! Go back to work! But it’s not over yet. To do so is deadly. Though we have to because there is no one. No one to help. Nothing existing for us to say, it’s okay; to feel cradled in the foundation our ancestors built. Instead, we rock without the crib rails, shaking ourselves to sleep with nothing to catch us when we fall. We have taken care of you for so long and now that it’s time for us to be taken care of, we are standing in an empty room. The children’s book, I’ll Love You Forever but the child has gone away, and the mother sits crying on the bathroom floor alone.

How could it change? How could it when division prevails so much that the reason no longer matters? At the mere mention of the other’s party name, we flood with hate. Our minds have already convinced itself beforehand that they are wrong. Whichever side your mind has chosen does not matter, for hate can only survive when its fed both ways. We were warned. This is not what our Founding Fathers wanted.

Other people in other countries sit at home comfortably because there, being furloughed doesn’t mean forgotten. It means the government will protect you, provide for you while you protect its citizens by staying at home. Your friends, your family, your neighbors. Other people in other countries can walk into any medical facility and find protection, care at no cost, simply because they are human beings, a part of their nation. Other people in other countries can afford to take a mandatory holiday because they are being given a mortgage holiday. They can do so because they have the screwdriver, the wrench, the hammer, they’ve had it for years, and our toolbox lies barren; with cobwebs and dusty space for the critters to crawl and set up shop.

And one side argues that the government needs to do more so we can help others, stay at home, while the other side argues that we need to go back to work so that we can help others. The thought of being taken care of is inconceivable because it’s never happened before. Witchcraft it must be. I see both, understand both. And as we contemplate, any attempts for change must pass through hands stained with corporate blood. The solution sits in the middle of yes and no for as long as it takes until it sadly fades away.

Published by allisonjaewrites

Just a girl and her dog.

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