A Numbness to Iraq

September 11th was the first time I ever felt scared to walk outside. Every night, I was secured in a safeness when I went to sleep. That night, I could hardly sleep at all. When I turned on the television, channels were plastered with coverage and talking heads. The word "terrorism" kept popping up. It was a word I was never used to. Comedians were crying on national television. They finally revealed a more human side to themselves, instead of a rehearsed script. It was frightening and refreshing at the same time. I wanted it to be like that forever.

But soon, that all changed. We stopped hugging random people in the streets. We all returned to work and to our social constructs of looking down when were walking in hopes of not greeting anyone. Something in everyone died. It was that sense of vulnerability. We were back to being comfortable, over-fed, and powerful. Weakness fuels humanity?

It's all still going on. There is a war happening, and we just might take a hit. But even if we don't, shouldn't it shock people to know that there were 77 corpses found in the Iraqi capital this week? Shouldn't it sadden people that the killings are at it's highest rate this week during the holy month of Ramadan? Peace can't even be granted for a religious observance because there are people that are that numb.

I'm numb too. I cannot relate to being caught in the middle of warfare. "Sunnis" and "Shiits" are just words in the newspaper. They're possible answers to a current events quiz. They're not people. For that, I am truly sorry for myself. If I can't help the situation in Iraq, I can at least show respect by knowing what's going on. Instead of involving myself in an argument about the situation, I can inform myself and discuss it with people in a rational manner. Then, we can see what we can do. There are plenty of organizations out there.




One other time I felt scared to go outside was when there was a swarm of dragonflies outside my door.