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I know. I want to make it all go away too.

“A person holding up their tattooed arms in front of their face” by Drew Hays on Unsplash

Right about now, I don’t want to talk about politics. Right about now, I don’t want to talk about children flippantly separated from their parents, taken without proper process and apparently with no intention of return.

Right about now I want to crawl into a cozy cave lined with magically-no-calorie cakes and sweets and fluffy fluffy television and a unicorn to help me pick the shows.

How about you? Thinking the super-plush, yet somehow stylish, recliner next to me looks great?

Well, I can’t blame you and I can’t blame me. Hiding away from all of this sounds so lovely, sinking into a pool of making-it-go-away. Yes, the pool is also in the cave.

See how easy it is to get distracted when you really want to be distracted?

You know and I know that there are thousands, literally thousands of children still vulnerable, still at risk, still separated from their parents. You know and I know that as tempting as it is to edge over to the cave, we simply can’t.

Those children need us.

And so do the next victims of this regime, whether they’re people who rely upon Obamacare; whether they’re seniors who need their Social Security; whether they’re immigrants now kept together but held indefinitely, as allowed by that Executive Order; whether they’re again children, as is likely in this always punching-down regime.

Here’s the thing about us. We also need to be there for them. If you want to talk about “who we are,” that’s who we are. Champions of the underdogs. Protectors from the bullies. Believers in right and wrong, moral and immoral.

We do not cede to the immoral.

It’s hard, of course it’s hard. We have an abusive regime trying everything it can to pound us into submission, to force us to be quiet and compliant. That regime should recognize something by now. Of all the things you can say about our diverse numbers, the single most unifying factor among us is our sheer lack of submission and quiet.

Not a one of us is superhuman (though, hey, if there is a superhuman out there, could you give a wave? I think your skills could come in handy). We cannot push this boulder up the hill all day every single day without relief. And the regime keeps dropping boulders hoping that one of them will knock us flat.

So we take breaks. Not little breaks, full breaks, whole days away from it all, whole days in our cozy caves. We take deep breaths. We use our tricks for relieving stress.

And we get right back to talking about those children ripped from their parents by a rule that seemed based solely on abject cruelty and figure out how to get them back to their families. And hold the regime accountable for this atrocity.

Please call your members of Congress and demand hearings into the purpose of the rule of separation, how the children were removed, apparently permanently, without notice or due process, and why the children cannot be easily reunited with their relatives.

The cave can wait. These children can’t.

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