Resisting Defeat

Six more dead Marines. Six more dead from accidental drone attacks. A few here. A few there. Kids dying of starvation in Somalia. Distended stomachs in Haiti across from NGO compounds serving steak. Racist hate spews from the hypocrital mouths of those that would be President. Oblivious masses frozen in front of wide screens watching the "big game". Lavish spending on ads for the Super Bowl. Obscene spending by obscurely named Super-PACs funded by the bastards causing the dead Marines and the families killed "accidently" by unmanned weapons. If they're unmanned, who pulled the trigger?


Who is going to remember the Marines from Hawaii? Who will remember the dead families in Pakistan or Afghanistan? How many care about the sunken eyes of the dying children? How can we walk by the filth and despair of the refugee camps in Haiti.

Just trying to keep up with all the despair makes me weary and think it would be easier to not know. But if I didn't know, would I be human? If I stopped caring would it really make a difference? Too late. I do know. As one individual, the whirlwinds of despair, hatred, volence and bad news intimidates and frustrates me. My mind is always in turmoil. Should I go to the job or make my job one of attempting to change things?

The cold reality is trying to change things isn't primary despite my best intentions. I still need to work in order to eat and have shelter. I want to simplify in my mind but the will to do so is often too weak. And so, I fret and curse and worry. What will become of us?

I look at my granddaughter and wonder if she will still face a world or sexism, misogyny and hate for women. She's seven. Already the brainwashing of institutionalized education has started. Who will look after her that she might be free to be herself?

My oldest grandson faces an unsure future. In two years he will leave high school. What choices will he have. Will recruiters come for him? Will he fall prey to the seduction of war. The narcosis of war. Or will he become indebted to be able to get a college degree worthless in a job market seeking only to pay less than living wages?

My youngest grandson starts first grade. Will there be any freedom left for him when he reaches adulthood? Will his parents see the need to enter the struggle against the hatred and oppression to ensure there are still freedom and rights? Or be too worn out, too exhausted to care?

And, still, my mind returns to the continued wars ripping apart families. Breaking the hearts of parents. Scarring children. Making wives or husbands cry in despair. The images of mothers holding obtunded babies in the hellish camps of the impoverished are hard to forget. The memories of the 9th Ward of New Orleans or the relocation camps of Vietnam aren't going to go away.

It would be easy right here to say it's hopeless. It may be in the long run. I have environmentalist friends who tell me it's too late. We've passed the tipping point. But I notice they keep fighting for their cause. They don't give up in depressive despair.

Helplessness and hopelessness are a deadly duo that leads to suicide. It can be a physical suicide or an emotional one. One where all we do is exist until we die. But in the face of all the reasons not to care or resist, can we quit? Can I ? There are certainly days when it seems like I could. But those days pass. I can't quit because I don't want to just exist.

I like to be around the energy of the young and old who have passion. I like watching my grandkids smile and enjoy life. I want that for all children. I enjoy hearing the idealism of young students and rebellious anarchists. I respect the elders of my generation who continue to battle against the tidal wave of evil that seems overwhelming.

The empathy toward those who face only poverty and hopelessness is a hard thing to maintain. But, if not us, who will it be? Do we alllow the racists, the imperialist without regard for other humans, the narcissistic politicians who sell out to be elected or the masters of war to succeed in their destructive ways?

I can't stomach the idea of allowing the rapists of women, the polluters of Earth or the bigots of this world to think they've won. That they can go unchallenged. Maybe it's rage and hatred that fuels me to stupidly think we can really "overcome". I hope there's also love in my heart. I think there is but the outrage can obscure things. The past has numbed my emotional thought processes. Many of my veteran friends can understand what I mean. But I like to think that same past has made us care.

So, despite the doubts, the outrage and despair I still feel compelled to continue the sometimes hazardous course of resistance. I don't want to be a cog in the destructive machine producing the hatefulness that kills babies, slaughters the innocent and creates the hatred of divisiveness among humans. Rather than just exist I want the adventure of living to fight for peace and justice. How totally naive and unrealistic. I can't seem to grow up!

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