I have to confess that I haven’t been working on “Scraps of Hope” for a while. First there were some family problems that drew my attention away from my book. Then I was sick. I spent two months in bed recovering, and just when I thought I was healthy enough to get back into the manuscript, some more family issues popped up.
Things on the personal front have calmed down, but the world is in shambles. Syrian refugees, African Americans being killed by police, planes bombed, terrorist attacks in Paris and Beirut, knife attacks in Israel – what next? I have no idea what horrible acts of violence will pop up in the coming days and weeks due to prejudice and intolerance.
Now that I have the energy to tune into the problems beyond my little hilltop in Vermont I want to do something. But what? I could wear a “Black Lives Matter” T-shirt – will that accomplish anything in my white Vermont landscape? I could click “like” on Facebook posts about tolerance, but that is just agreeing with people who already share my views. No, I have to reach out to people who don’t understand that prejudice starts small and grows like cancer until it kills. First it kills its host. It makes the person who holds it blind and hateful. Then it kills others – through sideways glances and whispers in the hallways. It kills through slurs and exclusion on the playground. It kills with knives and bullets and bombs. And it kills with poverty and homelessness and starvation.
It’s time to get back to work on my book. I don’t know if I can make a difference, but I hope I can.