Sunday, March 2, 2014

My History Is Your History


We often forget to remember that we're all human beings living on this planet Earth together; though distant and disconnected more often than not, yet we all share the same space and breathe the same air. One could argue we're spiritual beings who go through human experiences, and I would like to have a drink with that one, incoherent fantasies pushed to the side... If we're all together and some of us more than others, why is it that nothing changes even when injustice; that dusty-filled word, is still being stuttered, spitted and echoed with the coming and going of a new generation.

Are you familiar with the phrase: "Put yourself in their shoes"? something resembling that, is perhaps what your mother used to tell you as a kid, when you complained about the beans in your rice, or the tomatoes in your vegetables, or the fact that you were served with a plate of vegetables even though you're clearly not a fan of green, your mother would then say something along the line: "What about the poor children begging in the street, put yourself in their shoes; that is if they even have any" you'll look at her, then look at green and you'll stuff your mouth with those -awfully red circling things- that taste of constipation and guilt. 

Is it fair? A question that's torturing an empty cycle, we all find ourselves asking that using our inner voice, hoping that just by questioning we would have paid some kind of debt to spirituality, so that when the questioning is done, we could roll around, chasing indulgence through an endless cycle. 

What it must be like to knock down all the boundaries to reach all of those children and embrace them like they're our own? A baby born out of wedlock is preconceived by society as an outcast, unwanted and wrong that'll grow up to become a thief and so much worse,  revenging and "getting back" at the society that rejected it. That's what society wants from you; to reduce that child to an it wiping away the humanity born within him/her so that apathy will turn you away from them. 

What about the grand thieves that run the countries? Stealing every single day, dictating what we're shown in the media, how we should act, what we should talk about, re-writting history using their own false words and treating every citizen like they're born yesterday. What about our "supposed" leaders that couldn't even level up to mediocre, that are everyday criminals, that hide under an umbrella they call religion which isn't even wide enough to shade them all. 

When you read a story about a woman who was harassed, kidnaped, raped and then killed, identified a few days later with only her disfigured and dismembered body thrown somewhere, your guts are filled with rage and disgust, whilst attempting and before quite unlocking those "Whys?" you're presented with another story of different origin and similar unfortunate ending. 

What if it was your mother, sister, daughter or female cousin; what if it was them? Victim Blaming is a tendency; an anchor that is to be removed entirely, because its now attached to every one of those stories. Why do I even call that a "story"? when its clearly anything but. A natural human characteristic is to try and distant ourselves from horrible circumstances that others face and we don't, the same tendency that makes us shudder our shoulders when we see all the graphic photos of war to immediately click next distracting ourselves with whatever random the internet has to offer. 

Slut Shaming (a phrase I despise, always) is another form of Victim Blaming, only this once there is no victim, there is no human, there is merely a thing; an object that is to be ridiculed, exploited for reasons I don't nor wish to know.  The need to ask "What if it was your..." won't even apply here. An object is the lowest reduction a woman can face, belittling her, dehumanising her, I would even go as far as pulling the Slavery card to compare this to that. You can't make omelette without breaking the eggs, and I can't emphasis how racism and sexism are the worst form of evil and prejudice I have ever experienced and witnessed. 

Remaining hopeful in a world that might be plunged in darkness can seem like an impossible path to stick to, but that's the only way to do it. I am reminded with the pureness of the human soul every time I interact with children who keep on reminding me of how magical everything around me is. If you only look at it in a different way; from the eyes of a child, that sees beauty in everything, that everything is a first to them, there are no expectations or disappointments, there is merely existence; infinite beautiful existence. 

My history is your history, these words I'm writing now are the same ones you'll read later on. We're all connected in a way or another, the prejudice one person faces affects us all as people. One woman's misfortune is mine; even if the very same act didn't happen to me, as a spiritual being first and a woman second I placed myself in her shoes and I felt what she went through. That's the only way to help each others is to take the time to think and reflect upon the less fortunate of us, shortening the distance then erasing the space, and connecting, through our compassion that drives our courage to stand up for others, and say: 'I won't tolerate this any longer' and make a difference, that's all it takes, is for us to connect, relate to write history the real way.