The Center Is Not Always the Middle

June 20, 2018

Dearest Solomon,

I’m writing as I find myself tirelessly challenged. We’re in the midst of what can only be described as a humanitarian crisis. Our government has adopted a policy of tearing apart small children from their parents with wanton disregard for the care, morality or humanity of those actions. As vexing as this is, it’s nothing compared to the silent support of far too many.

You mom said it best the other day. As a parent, we in some ways become the parent of all children. The news is flooded with images and, even more devasting, audio, of small children crying out for their parents as they are taken away from them without any certainty about what’s next. Far too many of these children will never see their parents again and that is OUR fault.

I cannot get these images and sounds of my head. I cannot separate you from them. I cannot feel like a father to all those poor children. It makes me grateful that we have you safely in our home and ashamed for the anguish we’re causing both these children and their parents. There is no excuse or justification for this, other than that cruelty has co-opted sanity. Intolerance, vilification and victimization are now the prevailing pillars of a small collective which casts a horrific shadow on all of us, intentions be damned.

It is in these darkest moments, that I find myself struggling to find equilibrium. At heart, I hope to be fair, balanced, and rational. These tools are powerful and useful for almost every situation in life. But at times, especially times like this, though, they feel like they betray our humanity. You see, I do not want to be fair or forgiving, I am filled with rage.

I wish I could muster anything good to say about our president, his sycophant administration, his subservient Congress, his soulless, selfish supporters and the equally apathetic, pathetic resistance that can’t muster the votes to shut this down. I wish I could be positive, but the sounds of those children scrape the insides of my skull and bring me to tears inside and out. I wish I could stay centered, but fuck the center.

The center is relative. We imagine it as the middle on some imaginary plane. But the forces of our will draw us to the place we need most to be — and sometimes that is far astray from the proverbial middle. Your strength comes from resting atop your place of greatest passion, even if that’s at odds with where you believe you should be.

I don’t want to encourage you to give in to your most fleeting of desires or motivations. More so, I mean to tell you that fair and balanced works when others play by the same rules. When you are amongst peers and reasonable opponents, find the best path. But when the cards are stacked, you cannot rely on your better angels… you must also resist. You must move the center to where you need to be, not submit to it.

Do not be afraid to fight for what you know is right, your silence is an endorsement. Don’t do it to be on the right side of history, just be right.

Love always,

Dad