Humanity

Plano ISD schools used to send the entirety of the 5th grade classes to a camp in Oklahoma - Camp Classen - for a week in the fall. We spent the week in cabins, hiking in the woods, learning about ecosystems, but for me, mostly maneuvering my way through an awkward age surrounded by a bunch of judgmental girls. Everyone received a fun paper plate award at the end of the week. I received the “Humanitarian Award.”

Humanitarian. What does that even mean? I was a little bummed, always feeling like the world was out to get me (a sentiment learned from my mother). Everyone else received fun gag awards. Did they just make up this word, because they didn’t know what else to give me?

Humanitarian: “concerned with or seeking to promote human welfare”

I suppose that’s always been a part of me. I can’t recall anything in particular that I did that week to reflect the soul of a humanitarian, but here I am. Deeply inexplicably consumed with what is happening under current leadership. I never intended this to be a page for politics, but this isn’t about politics. It’s about humanity. It feels tone deaf to write about anything than that right now.

I am unwell.

Physically ill.

My heart racing with anxiety.

A woman with three kids, driving her car, making sarcastic comments - all with a smile.

I see. me.

A man, A helper, doing his civic duty.

I see. my other half.

Executed.

No investigation. No trial by jury.

Because they shouldn’t have been there.

They shouldn’t be looking, talking, filming.

Breathing.

Three shots should do it. No, this time ten.

No recourse.