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Do you ever hear them?

March 8, 2010

Do you ever hear their voices?
Right now, somewhere, a man is beating his wife, his shouting overwhelming her screams of pain. Their child sits crying and terrified in the corner.
Right now, a child is dying of starvation, while his mother cries helpless to save him.
Right now guns are firing, fists are pounding, and knives pierce skin. Voices of pain and of anger rise up over the conflict.
Right now, someone is taking a pill, or tying a noose, and there is no sound as they give up hope.

Sometimes, when I read about what happens in the world, the violence in Iraq or the violence on our own streets, I hear their voices. I picture these people, and cringe that I haven’t found a way to stop it, that I’m sitting here comfortably while all over lives are shattering apart. I picture the people in Haiti, the ones trapped under the rubble that were never found, but survived for weeks before finally dying. I picture the girls in the middle east, the children who are married and the defiant ones who are rewarded with acid burns. I remember the stories I’ve read at Fugutivus, and I know that while she made it out so many are still there. I know that somewhere in the world right now awful things are happening to people.  I don’t know what to do with this feeling.

I’ve been listening to “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman all night.  Y’all should check it out.

“I remember when we were driving, driving in your car
Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped ’round my shoulder
And I had a feeling that I belonged
I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone.”

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