Spurred to Sit Quietly

I had always wondered what it was like for those who lived during the civil war. Not the soldiers, the civilians. How did they feel to watch their country fall apart? Did they even see it coming? Could they tell that the unrest was building to a fever pitch that would split the nation? Was normal life then like it is now?

The riots that fill my TV screen and the hate that is spilled across social media is something that was unthought of then. Would they have been able to read the warning signs? My friends and family have voiced their opinions, split one way or another, but at least not evenly. There’s a decided tilt to the ones who want the world to change for the better. That makes me smile at least.

Smiling is all the good that I can do for right now, I know that the number of those who rally against injustice grow by the day. I support them full-heartedly, but only in spirit. I cannot risk putting myself in danger, or my children in danger, or my children of being in danger without me because that is the real risk of fighting for change. It’s not enough to want it, you have to be willing to fight and sacrifice for it.

That is not something that I can do. I would love it if my children could one day call me a hero, but I do not want them calling me a martyr who died for someone else’s cause. I have my freedom and my children theirs, we are privileged and we know it. The privilege is born of our background, granted to us by our ancestry. We will never have to fight to be recognized, to be treated as human. 

We can sit out this fight. It is not us that is being rounded up, not us that is being trampled, not us that is being slain wantonly in the streets to die as nothing but a name on an ever growing list. This fight is not for my family and I. We can afford to be spectators while those on the front line work to expose the evil within us all and the evil that governs us.

Those in power have segregated themselves into gangs, they even wear colors to represent their allegiance and force us to choose the same. Red or blue, democrat or republican, which one are you? The middle ground is eroding, giving way to the only pair of options that they want us to think exist. Free thought and free will are being ground away until only the two remain. Red. Blue. Black. White. 

Politics have been transformed from a game into a war spurred on by the ones that fight it. Each vote is no longer meant to pick the best to help govern us, but instead to pick a victor in a battle. Politicians and those who walk among them know that the only way to cling to power is to fight this never-ending battle of red and blue. The war is all that matters, what is best for the people is no longer considered, if it ever was. 

The good of the nation has taken a backseat to selective warfare on all scales; political, corporate, even religious. But the war between individuals is where we see the cracks in their hold on us. We know that fighting each other is not in our best interest. We know that the survival and success of everyone is what is best for the country. We know that life is victory, that protecting life at every level is a common goal.

I know that, my children know that, and we believe that the greater good will prevail as it always has. We know that the world is not all sunshine and roses. We have seen death, we have witnessed violence, and we have participated before. Why are things different now? Why am I content to sit back and watch this wave of challenge and change spread when I could be an active participant? Martyrs are often heroes too. I have nothing to lose except my life.

Is it because I am safe, that I can sit peacefully and watch the story unfold on my TV? Is that what gives me the strength to sit by and do nothing? Is that strength at all? The system is broken, that has been clear for years and the architects who continue to prop it up are growing weak. I could be out there fighting for what I know to be true. But I am not.

Does my inaction make me a coward? Does my faith that things will work out for the best make me a fool? I am not at risk thanks to the color of my skin. I am safe. My family is safe. We can afford to sit by on the sidelines and watch the world change around us.

As change takes hold and the tables shift, we will be affected, but we will not be impacted. The police and military that drive up and down the street would pay me no mind if I stepped out in front of them. I would not be seen as a threat, I would be seen as equal, I would be seen as human. I would be seen as white.

Why then does the sudden pounding on my door alarm me? I am not expecting anybody, it has been weeks since a visitor came by. The months of fighting in the streets have driven all sane people like myself to stay indoors. Who would be pounding at my door?

“Police!” 

The shout shocks me. Maybe they are here to offer a helping hand. Then the door crashes in and I am thrown to the ground.

Why is my skin not protecting me? Then I see it on the TV screen: 

MARTIAL LAW: SYMPATHIZERS TO BE EXECUTED REGARDLESS OF RACE OR ETHNICITY