Evil is not the Answer
I would like to write about the bittersweet moment this morning, of going to my container garden, and harvesting Cuban oregano, and tomatoes, to complete the Johnny Marzetti, I am making for dinner.
Yes, it was wonderful to reap such abundance; but it made me sad to pick the tomatoes, which I tend to save for the great niece and nephews, who so much enjoy, going out to the plants, and seeing what is available to harvest, and consume it, as if it were candy.
I walked by a ruby red strawberry, without stopping; hope does spring eternal.
What I had started to write about, for this column, ten days ago, was someone else’s idea, I have not yet found who to credit the quote to, that we should live our lives, in such a manner, that we do not need to go on vacation. Yes, I know, I have never been one to stay put for too long; I most definitely was born with wanderlust, and I so love the road.
This period of quarantine, has brought me some interesting insights, which I thought might be worth sharing.
But between me planning to write about some of the more positive side-effects, which have emerged in my world, in no small way because of the time covid-19 has created; our world has once again, been too dramatically impacted to ignore the change.
I feel like everyone else I know or have heard speak, or read their comments, regarding what happed to George Floyd is heartbreaking and overwhelmingly sad. There is no way to logically understand what happened to this man; and I certainly do not have the right or the words to try and explain or console anyone in this matter.
Shortly after first viewing the video of Mr. Floyd; I commented to Kate, can you imagine if the police officer was raping a woman? The thought of such a crime being taped and played and replayed, on television gave me pause.
After thinking about how horrible that would be, my mind went to what it would mean to have “proof” of the crime, one which regardless of how many times it happens, the victim is rarely believed.
What would that kind of evidence mean to the countless victims, especially of high profile assailants? You would not have to prove something happened to you, produce medical records or collaborating stories; because there was video. I am in no way trying to usurp this incident.
But then that moment, like the pandemic which has dominated our lives for the last few months, gave way to a whole new trauma. How have you been sleeping? Or are you too dreading what nightfall brings, of late?
Because of the way I was raised, and that wanderlust, I have traveled a bit, which for me ultimately means walked on those cities streets, so many of which I am now seeing the scars of being looted and set on fire. When I see the pictures from Los Angeles to New York City, or Boston to Miami, and Cleveland to Dallas, I feel devastated and find myself crying; no I am not crying for the brick and mortar, but what that building represents.
It is not that the Waffle House, in downtown Atlanta, is owned by a friend or family member, but it is where we shared a waffle with our friends, their first, on what to me was a marvelous road trip; not to mention hotels and other sites in that area, visited on our many different trips to Atlanta, which have all mattered. It saddens me to see what has happened.
I feel like this country that I love is under attack; and not by some unseen virus, which was bad enough, but by mobs of people, who think stealing everything in a Target or at Chanel’s, somehow address inequality.
I hate this; I was starting to feel hope, believing before a dreaded “second wave” we would get a break, and at least be able to go out of our house, without worrying that we were somehow either spreading or being infected by covid-19.
I cannot help but think of all those people, who have lost so much during the pandemic, tried to obey all of the rules, about social distancing, and finally had reopening guidelines, to count on; and now have lost everything.
Historically, we know what happens when we wage a civil war; the casualties are twice as high, as in other wars, because we are fighting ourselves. All the losses are ours.
I can see nothing good coming from these riots. We are destroying our country and setting back the timeline on healing. Do not doubt that America will heal. These wounds will be nursed and we will recover, but at what cost?
I know I should put a happy spin on this, but I am sad. Yes, a list of grievances and suggestions and needs would be nice; I somehow imagine the Oprah’s and James’s of the world are already in possession of those. So where are we?
For me, I go back to the notion of a rape, being captured, on tape. It is an evil, heinous crime, which I will never understand. We all know that it happens, and too many of us have firsthand or secondhand knowledge of it occurring. What can we do to stop it? I do not have an answer, to why evil happens or how we can put an end to it, as a society.
But I do know that perpetrating evil on others, because you have been a victim of evil, is not the answer. As a society, we have to decide that an eye for an eye is not the answer; that action only leaves us all blind. That is all for now.