The Musings of Jaime David

The Musings of Jaime David
The Musings of Jaime David
@jaimedavid.blog@jaimedavid.blog

The writings of some random dude on the internet

1,089 posts
1 follower

Tag: Kindness

  • The Struggles of Compassion: Why Empathy Should Be for Everyone, Even Those Who Don’t Deserve It

    The Struggles of Compassion: Why Empathy Should Be for Everyone, Even Those Who Don’t Deserve It

    In a world full of division, conflict, and hardship, the concept of compassion is often pushed to the back burner. We are living in a time where it can feel like kindness and empathy are in short supply, and even the idea of showing compassion to others—especially to those we deem “undeserving”—can be met with disdain, confusion, and judgment. The struggle to extend compassion and empathy to everyone, even those whose actions we consider “evil,” is a deep and personal conflict for many, myself included.

    One of the core beliefs that shape my understanding of compassion is the idea that there is no inherent good or evil in people. Instead, these concepts are subjective, shaped by individual perspectives, experiences, and cultural contexts. This belief is challenging to navigate, especially in a society that often divides people into categories of “good” and “evil” based on their actions. It’s difficult to reconcile the idea of showing empathy for someone who may have caused harm or suffering. But it’s a struggle I believe is worth exploring, especially when we consider how empathy, if truly universal, has the power to change the world.

    The Debate Around Compassion for the “Evil”

    Many have told me that showing compassion for those who commit harmful actions is equivalent to tolerating evil. They argue that empathy and compassion should not be extended to those who choose to do bad things, as it could be seen as excusing their behavior or allowing them to escape accountability. They argue that by showing empathy to those who commit atrocities or injustices, we somehow lessen the weight of their actions or make it easier for them to continue down a harmful path. To show compassion for such people, they say, is to ignore the very real harm they’ve caused, to allow them to walk free without facing the consequences of their actions.

    This perspective, though well-intentioned, is where I find myself in disagreement. Perhaps I am naive. Perhaps I am childish in my thinking. But I believe that compassion should be extended to all people, even those whose actions we consider harmful or “evil,” because we are all human, and we all struggle. While actions can certainly be judged as right or wrong, good or bad, I believe the person committing those actions is far more complicated than any single action they might take.

    Empathy is not about excusing someone’s bad behavior or letting them off the hook for the harm they’ve caused. It’s about understanding that people are products of their experiences, their upbringing, and the circumstances that have shaped them. No one is born evil. No one wakes up and decides to commit harm without reason. I’m not arguing that people shouldn’t face consequences for their actions—accountability is essential. But I am suggesting that we mustn’t lose sight of the humanity of others, even when their actions are hurtful.

    The Human Condition and Our Shared Struggles

    The argument against extending compassion to the “evil” often overlooks the fact that everyone is struggling in some way, even those who seem to be causing harm to others. Behind every harmful action, there is often a person grappling with their own pain, trauma, and unresolved struggles. Understanding this doesn’t make their harmful actions acceptable, but it allows us to see that their pain and suffering are just as real as anyone else’s. It is a reminder that even the most hardened individuals are still human, still capable of change and growth, even if it’s hard to imagine that in the moment.

    In a world where suffering is so prevalent, it’s easy to forget the power of compassion. The world is full of pain, injustice, and suffering. Our political climate is fraught with division, our social systems are often built on inequality, and many of us are dealing with personal struggles that aren’t always visible to others. In such a world, showing compassion is not a sign of weakness or naïveté; it’s a strength. It’s the ability to acknowledge that, no matter how difficult life gets or how much pain people may cause, we still choose to respond with kindness, understanding, and empathy.

    The Right Thing to Do: Compassion Without Conditions

    I believe that compassion and empathy should not be contingent on whether a person “deserves” it. The moment we start limiting compassion based on a person’s actions or behavior, we turn empathy into a transactional experience. If we only offer kindness to those we deem worthy, then it becomes less about the human experience and more about our personal judgments. To me, true compassion is unconditional. It’s about recognizing the inherent value of every human being, regardless of their actions or flaws. It’s about choosing to see the good in people, even when it feels difficult or uncomfortable.

    It’s not about excusing or tolerating bad behavior. It’s about choosing to respond to others with understanding, even when they don’t meet our expectations of how a “good” person should behave. Compassion is about choosing to see the person behind the action, the pain behind the anger, the vulnerability behind the cruelty. It’s about offering a hand even to those who may push it away, because sometimes, that’s all they need to begin healing.

    I understand that this perspective is not one that is widely shared. It’s not always easy to offer compassion to someone who has wronged us or hurt others. It requires vulnerability, openness, and a willingness to look beyond the surface. But I believe that the act of showing compassion is, at its core, an act of courage. It’s about choosing to be better than the actions of others, about responding to hate with love, to cruelty with kindness.

    The Need for Empathy in Today’s World

    Now more than ever, we need empathy and compassion. The world is a hard place. Things are tough. People are hurting. Whether it’s political divisions, social unrest, or personal tragedies, the weight of the world often feels unbearable. It’s easy to fall into a cycle of anger and bitterness, to build walls around ourselves and shut out those we disagree with or find difficult. But this only perpetuates the cycles of hate and division. If we don’t learn to show compassion, even to those who may seem “unworthy” of it, we risk losing the very essence of what makes us human.

    Empathy isn’t about agreeing with others or condoning their behavior; it’s about understanding where they are coming from. It’s about offering a space for dialogue, for growth, for healing. If we only show compassion to those we like or agree with, we further entrench the divides that already exist in society. But when we extend empathy to everyone, even those who are different from us, we create a world that is more connected, more understanding, and ultimately more just.

    Conclusion: Compassion Is Not a Weakness

    I know that my belief in universal compassion may seem idealistic, even naïve, to some. I understand the arguments against showing empathy to those who cause harm. It’s hard to reconcile the idea of compassion for the “evil” with the desire for justice and accountability. But I believe that compassion is not a weakness; it’s a strength. It’s the ability to see beyond a person’s actions and recognize their inherent humanity.

    Empathy and compassion should be for everyone, not because they deserve it, but because it’s the right thing to do. The world is tough enough without us making it harder on each other. We all have our struggles, our pain, our imperfections. And in those moments of hardship, the last thing we need is to be met with cruelty or judgment. We need compassion. We need empathy. We need to remember that we are all in this together, and that’s what makes us human.

  • The Art of Bringing Friends Together

    The Art of Bringing Friends Together

    There’s something deeply human about wanting to connect people. Some of us are wired that way — to see links between personalities, to notice the spark that might form when two people meet, to feel that small thrill when it actually happens. I’ve always been that kind of person. The kind who likes to bring friends together, to see if they’ll click, to create little circles of warmth where maybe none existed before.

    I think about it sometimes — how it might seem strange to some people. A lot of folks like to keep their worlds separate. Work friends here, online friends there, childhood friends tucked away in nostalgia somewhere. They compartmentalize, and they like it that way. And that’s okay. But I’m just… different. I like seeing my friends meet. I like watching them talk and laugh and find common ground. It gives me a kind of joy that’s hard to describe — like watching connections spark and form in real time.

    Part of it, I’ll admit, probably comes from being an ENFJ. That personality type has a reputation for being the “connector,” the “people person,” the “harmonizer.” And honestly, it fits. I love understanding people — their stories, their quirks, their ways of thinking. And when I meet someone new, my brain starts spinning, almost automatically, thinking of who they’d get along with, who they’d find interesting, who would understand them. It’s not matchmaking, exactly — it’s more like soul-weaving. I’m trying to build a network of people who can support, inspire, and uplift one another.

    There’s a beauty in seeing your friends connect without you being the center of it. Some people might feel left out when their friends get closer to each other, but I feel the opposite — I feel fulfilled. Because that means the bridge worked. That means two people who might never have spoken now have something — a friendship, a shared laugh, a new understanding. It’s a form of creation that doesn’t get talked about much. People talk about art, writing, music, invention — but friendship itself can be an art form.

    And like art, it’s not always predictable. Sometimes you introduce two people and expect fireworks — and nothing happens. The energy doesn’t mesh. They talk politely, maybe text once or twice, and it fades. Other times, you make an introduction almost casually, and suddenly they’re inseparable. You become the person who unknowingly helped two lifelong friends find each other. It’s beautiful, mysterious, humbling.

    But here’s the thing — not everyone likes that. Some people prefer to keep things separate. They see introductions as interference. And I get that. There are people who guard their peace, who don’t want social blending, who like their circles small and well-defined. I try to respect that. It’s not my job to force connection — only to invite it. I’ve learned that the best friendships form naturally, not through pressure or expectation.

    Still, I think there’s something special about trying. About putting the effort in to build community in a world that feels increasingly disconnected. We live in an era where friendship can feel distant — online, occasional, transactional. But I still believe in the closeness, in the warmth of shared understanding, in genuine care. I believe friendship can heal things loneliness breaks.

    Maybe that’s why I try so hard to connect people. I’ve felt loneliness before — that quiet ache of feeling like no one truly understands you. So when I meet someone and think, Oh, you’d really get along with my other friend, I can’t help but want to make that happen. I want them to feel less alone. To have someone they can talk to, laugh with, confide in. Maybe it’s selfish in a way — because seeing that connection gives me comfort too. It’s proof that goodness spreads when you let it.

    Being an ENFJ, I also just can’t help but care about harmony. If there’s tension, I want to ease it. If there’s misunderstanding, I want to bridge it. If two people could benefit from knowing each other, I want to make it happen. It’s like a calling — a quiet, human one. The desire to bring people together, to build instead of break, to connect instead of divide.

    Sometimes, when I’m reflecting, I realize that bringing friends together is really just another expression of hope. Hope that people can get along. Hope that connection still matters. Hope that kindness can multiply. I think that’s why it feels so fulfilling — because every introduction carries a small spark of optimism.

    Of course, not every attempt works out perfectly. There are awkward moments. People who don’t vibe. Times when you realize, “Okay, maybe those two were too different.” And that’s okay. That’s part of it. You can’t control chemistry — all you can do is create the opportunity for it to exist. And honestly, even when it doesn’t click, it still means something that you tried. It means you care enough to want people to meet, to build, to grow.

    There’s also something very selfless about it. When you bring people together, you’re not doing it for gain — you’re doing it because you want others to experience joy. It’s a small act of love. You’re saying, “I see you. I see your kindness, your humor, your spark — and I think someone else should see it too.” That’s powerful. That’s connection in its purest form.

    I’ve also found that, in time, this habit builds a kind of invisible community. You start to notice that your friends become friends with your other friends, and then their friends meet new people, and before long, there’s a web of shared stories, support, and laughter that traces back to those early introductions. You realize you’ve helped create something larger than yourself — a network of good souls who know each other because you took a small chance on connection.

    And maybe, in a world that often feels divided and harsh, that’s one of the most beautiful things a person can do. To be the thread that ties others together. To be the connector.

    Sometimes people will tell me I care too much — that I get too involved, that I think too deeply about relationships. But I don’t see it as a weakness. I see it as part of who I am. Caring is not a flaw; it’s a gift. Wanting others to meet, to bond, to feel seen — that’s empathy in motion. And yes, it’s vulnerable. You risk disappointment when things don’t work out. You risk being misunderstood. But it’s worth it. Every time.

    Because when it does work — when you see your friends laughing together, bonding over something you never expected — it’s magical. You realize that connection doesn’t have to be forced or planned. It just needs an open door. And sometimes, you’re the one holding that door open.

    As I get older, I think about how friendships evolve — how people drift apart, move away, change jobs, change interests. It’s inevitable. But I also think about how new friendships begin, often in the most unexpected ways. And that’s what gives me hope. That’s what keeps me introducing people, encouraging them to talk, to share, to care. Because friendship, at its core, is one of the most meaningful things in life.

    We talk about love all the time, but friendship is its own kind of love — quiet, steady, healing. It asks for nothing but presence. And when you bring friends together, you’re essentially creating new possibilities for love in the world — platonic love, understanding, solidarity.

    So yes, I like to bring my friends together. Not because I need control, or because I’m trying to play social chess — but because I believe in the beauty of connection. Because I know how it feels to be alone, and how good it feels when someone includes you. Because I believe that every new bond makes the world a little softer, a little warmer, a little more human.

    Maybe it’s idealistic. Maybe it’s my ENFJ heart leading the way. But I’d rather be the one who tries to connect people than the one who stands back and stays distant. I’d rather risk awkwardness than miss out on potential friendship. Because you never know which introduction could lead to something life-changing.

    At the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about — hope. Hope that people can meet, can connect, can grow together. Hope that kindness still matters. Hope that friendship is something worth nurturing, again and again.

    And if I can be the person who helps make that happen — even just once — then I’ll consider that a success.

    Because bringing friends together isn’t just something I do — it’s something I am.

  • Ruthless Kindness: Why Vengeance and Compassion Are Not a Paradox

    Ruthless Kindness: Why Vengeance and Compassion Are Not a Paradox

    When people hear the words vengeance and ruthlessness, they often picture fire and fury: the kind of cold retribution that leaves someone else scorched. On the other hand, when they hear compassion or empathy, they imagine warmth, softness, and selflessness. These two pairings — vengeance/ruthlessness versus compassion/empathy — are usually painted as opposites. One destroys, the other heals. One is sharp, the other gentle. One is cold, the other warm.

    But that’s a false binary. It’s neat, but not true. Dig deeper, and you’ll see that vengeance doesn’t have to mean bloodlust, and ruthlessness doesn’t have to mean cruelty. Likewise, compassion isn’t weakness, and empathy isn’t naïve. These qualities can co-exist. In fact, they can work together in powerful, transformative ways.

    This is not a paradox. It’s a reframing.

    The Human Urge for Vengeance

    First, let’s acknowledge something uncomfortable: wanting vengeance is normal. That feeling when someone wrongs you — the urge to balance the scales, to see them face some kind of consequence — is not a moral defect. It’s human psychology. For millennia, vengeance played a role in survival. Communities that punished betrayal or harm ensured stronger bonds and fewer free-riders.

    When we’re hurt, that primal fire still flickers. It whispers: Make them feel it too. That’s not inherently evil. It’s a survival instinct. The question is not whether vengeance is “good” or “bad,” but what form it takes in our modern lives.

    Ruthlessness Redefined

    Ruthlessness, too, is a word that has been hijacked by extremes. We associate it with cruelty, with stepping on others to climb higher, with the absence of care. But ruthlessness, at its core, is about clarity and decisiveness. It’s about removing hesitation when hesitation would betray your principles.

    To be ruthless is to be uncompromising in the pursuit of what you believe in. When paired with cruelty, that pursuit can be ugly. But when paired with compassion, it can be extraordinary. Imagine being ruthless not in harming others but in committing to empathy. Imagine being ruthless in kindness — sharp, consistent, and unflinching in the face of cynicism.

    That’s not a paradox. It’s a strength.

    The Paradox That Isn’t

    On the surface, “vengeance through compassion” or “ruthless kindness” sounds contradictory. How can something as fiery as vengeance and as tender as compassion coexist?

    The answer lies in redefining what victory looks like. Traditional vengeance says, I’ll hurt you the way you hurt me. But another form of vengeance says, I’ll rise above, and in doing so, I’ll expose the smallness of your cruelty.

    It’s vengeance without blood. Justice without venom. Ruthlessness without cruelty.

    Compassion doesn’t erase the desire for balance — it channels it. Empathy doesn’t extinguish the fire — it directs it toward something more constructive. In this light, kindness itself becomes a weapon, not of destruction, but of disarmament.

    The Psychology of Ruthless Kindness

    Let’s unpack why this actually works — not just as poetry, but as psychology.

    1. It denies the offender control.
      When someone harms you, they often expect you to react with anger, bitterness, or revenge. By responding with calm dignity and kindness, you refuse to play the part they wrote for you. That’s power.
    2. It creates cognitive dissonance.
      If someone is cruel and expects cruelty back but receives compassion instead, they are forced into self-reflection. Maybe not immediately, but eventually. That dissonance lingers.
    3. It protects your mental health.
      Carrying bitterness corrodes you. Ruthless kindness lets you still “have your vengeance” without poisoning yourself in the process. You prove them wrong by thriving.
    4. It’s socially contagious.
      Others who witness your response may model it. Compassion in the face of cruelty creates ripples far beyond the original conflict.
    5. It confronts people with the unfamiliar.
      Many people who lash out or live in hate do so because kindness has been absent in their lives. Ruthless kindness puts them face-to-face with something foreign, even unsettling: unconditional compassion. That encounter can be shocking, destabilizing, and, in the long run, transformative.

    This isn’t weakness. It’s strength with discipline.

    Historical and Cultural Echoes

    This concept isn’t new. History is full of examples of people who weaponized compassion as a form of resistance and vengeance.

    • Mahatma Gandhi used nonviolent resistance against British colonial rule. It wasn’t softness — it was ruthless commitment to empathy as a weapon. His kindness, applied strategically, was vengeance against oppression.
    • Martin Luther King Jr. spoke about returning hate with love. That wasn’t naïve idealism. It was tactical. By refusing to meet violence with violence, he created moral clarity that exposed the brutality of racism.
    • Nelson Mandela, after decades in prison, could have chosen bitterness. Instead, he built a new South Africa on reconciliation. That wasn’t weakness — it was the most ruthless, effective form of vengeance against apartheid.

    And then there is a more contemporary example that proves ruthless kindness is not a fairy tale but a fact: Daryl Davis.

    Davis, a Black blues musician, spent decades befriending members of the Ku Klux Klan. Instead of meeting their hate with hate, he sat with them, talked to them, treated them as human beings. Over time, many of these men left the Klan, handing Davis their robes as proof. His kindness — extended where none was expected, and perhaps least deserved — became a force of ruthless transformation. He didn’t excuse their hate. He confronted it with humanity, and in doing so, dismantled it.

    This is ruthless kindness in its purest form: turning the very tools of hate into instruments of change.

    Everyday Applications

    You don’t need to be a global leader to practice this. Ruthless kindness shows up in daily life.

    • At work, when someone undermines you, vengeance might mean excelling even more and refusing to stoop to their level.
    • In relationships, when someone treats you poorly, your vengeance might be maintaining your dignity, setting boundaries, and showing kindness elsewhere.
    • Online, when someone trolls or mocks, your ruthless kindness could be refusing to match their vitriol, instead responding with wit, calm, or silence.

    Everyday vengeance through compassion isn’t about being passive. It’s about choosing the form of strength that best serves you.

    Why This Isn’t Weakness

    A common critique of compassion-as-vengeance is that it’s just letting people off the hook. But that misunderstands the concept.

    Compassion doesn’t mean excusing. Empathy doesn’t mean permitting harm. You can hold people accountable and still choose not to become them. You can enforce boundaries ruthlessly while still treating others with humanity.

    The true paradox is thinking that kindness and strength are opposites. They’re not. The strongest people are often those who can hold both in balance.

    The Risks and Limits

    Of course, there are risks. Not every situation calls for kindness. Some harms require firm justice through legal or social channels. Ruthless kindness should not mean tolerating abuse. It’s a strategy, not a universal prescription.

    The key is discernment. Ask yourself: will compassion here transform the situation, or will it enable further harm? Ruthless kindness is about choosing compassion as a weapon, not as a leash.

    Toward a New Ethic

    What if we stopped framing vengeance as only destruction, and compassion as only softness? What if we began to see them as partners — different energies that, when combined, create a fuller, wiser response to harm?

    Ruthless kindness could become a new ethic: the ability to channel our natural urge for vengeance into acts of compassion that elevate us, protect our dignity, and perhaps, in time, even change others.

    This isn’t hypothetical. The evidence is all around us — from global leaders who used compassion to dismantle empires, to ordinary people like Daryl Davis who used it to dismantle hate, one relationship at a time.

    Conclusion: The Best Revenge

    The best revenge is not screaming, or sulking, or striking back. The best revenge is living in a way that makes cruelty irrelevant. It’s refusing to let someone else’s smallness shrink you.

    Vengeance and compassion are not opposites. Ruthlessness and empathy are not contradictions. Together, they form a strength that is sharp, principled, and deeply human.

    To be ruthless in kindness is not to be weak. It’s to understand that sometimes the fiercest fire burns quietly, and the sharpest sword is made of mercy.

    That is not a paradox. It’s a path.

  • Finding Hope Through Hurt: A Reflection on the Manhattan Shooting

    Finding Hope Through Hurt: A Reflection on the Manhattan Shooting

    On the evening of July 28, 2025, a tragic event unfolded in Midtown Manhattan, forever altering the lives of many. A shooting at 345 Park Avenue claimed the lives of four people, including a beloved New York City police officer, Officer Didarul Islam, who was serving to protect others. While the pain of this loss weighs heavily on the hearts of those directly affected, it also serves as a powerful reminder of the strength, resilience, and kindness that exists within our community, even in the darkest of times.

    In moments like these, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the sorrow and uncertainty that tragedy brings. It’s hard not to wonder how such a senseless act of violence can occur, especially in a city as familiar and bustling as New York. Yet, even in the midst of grief, we must hold on to the hope that together, we can find a way through the hurt.

    One of the most inspiring aspects of this tragedy is the story of Officer Islam himself. A man who, despite knowing the risks of his job, chose to protect others with unwavering courage. He gave his life so that others might live, a reminder of the extraordinary sacrifices so many first responders make each day to keep us safe. His legacy will not be defined by the violence that took him, but by the love he had for his family, his community, and his city.

    While it is important to acknowledge the pain, it is equally important to recognize the ways in which we come together in times of crisis. In the aftermath of the shooting, New Yorkers have once again shown their strength, offering support to those who were affected and coming together as one community. The NFL and its employees are rallying around one of their own who was injured in the attack, and local law enforcement has continued to show unwavering dedication to keeping us safe.

    This is what we must hold on to. In the face of sorrow, there is also kindness. In times of fear, there is hope. We have seen it time and time again in New York, where, no matter what happens, the city unites to support each other. This tragedy may have shaken us, but it will not break us. We will rise above the hurt, and in the process, we will be reminded of the deep connections we share with one another.

    In the days and weeks to come, it’s essential that we continue to lean on each other. Whether through a kind word, a helping hand, or simply standing together in solidarity, we can each play a part in healing. Though it may feel like a dark time now, we can take comfort in knowing that we are not alone. We will get through this, just as we’ve gotten through past challenges—together.

    As we reflect on the lives lost, let’s also remember to celebrate the goodness around us: the courage of those who protect us, the compassion of our neighbors, and the strength of our collective spirit. We are more than the pain we experience. We are defined by how we come together in the face of adversity, how we lift each other up, and how we move forward with hope, even in the darkest of times.

  • Fly High

    Fly High

    Fly high

    To the sky.

    Don’t cry.

    Don’t die.

    Goodbye.

    Live life.

    Survive

    And thrive.

    Be light.

    Stand and fight

    For what’s right

    And be kind.

    Then you’ll find

    A light that shines

    Through evil’s might.

  • Community Care (A Post Written by A Friend)

    Community Care (A Post Written by A Friend)

    One of my friends made this facebook post. I really liked it a lot, and wanted to share it on here.

    “I just wanted to acknowledge that in times where the majority of people are suffering to some degree–layers of suffering–that it is both incredibly unifying and isolating. Why should anyone care about my personal gripes when everything around me is on fire, in crisis? What right do I have to need attention when I hold privilege in any amount? How do I have a right to suffer when so many more people have it so much worse? These are not new questions to 2020, but are valid questions nonetheless.

    I think the most meaningful part about community care, real uncommodifiable community care, is that when we partake in it, we hold space for each other when we ourselves are suffering. No one’s needs and pain should be ignored. Your pain and exhaustion is valid, and you deserve considerate space to be held for you to release it all in a considerate way. Especially in a time where many of us cannot afford, cannot access, and/or have identities that make it hard to benefit from traditional professional psychology and therapy. Conscious of our privileges, power dynamics, pettiness, and places in the world, we may hold space for one another, assist in the healing of one another. We may create compassion and care where larger systems fail us–it has been going on for centuries on this land. Not codependence, but interdependence. Your pain is valid and weighty and difficult, and I recognize it. It’s hard to resist isolation when nearly everything and everyone is in crisis, but a better world involves trusting the love of those who know you + your situation, and letting them trust in you. It’s not easy but while we are tirelessly fighting for rights and life, it’s necessary.

    I’m far from perfect at this, and am currently resisting the urge waste away into nothing alone, but friends, know I’m trying”

    Check out my friend’s blog site!

    https://homagetolyric.substack.com/

  • 19 Years Ago

    19 Years Ago

    Today is September 11th.

    19 years ago today,

    Our nation was attacked.

    Four planes were hijacked.

    Two crashed into the World Trade Center,

    One in the Pentagon,

    And one in the middle of the Pennsylvania woods.

    It was a sad day.

    Many lives were lost.

    We must never forget those lives that were lost.

    That was not all that was lost, however.

    From that day onwards, we’ve been in perpetual warfare in the Middle East.

    From drone strikes to on-the-ground operations,

    Many people, civilians, soldiers, and combatants, alike, had lost their lives.

    Countless lives had been lost since 9/11 across the world, and no one bats an eye.

    It is sad to see,

    But we must not forget the lives lost.

    There’s a lot more that was lost since 9/11.

    Tensions started to escalate all over the country.

    From government to law enforcement to citizens to immigrants to even other countries,

    Everyone started to distrust everyone.

    What had briefly united Americans eventually drove us further apart,

    And the wounds have not fully healed.

    The effects from the response to 9/11 can be felt globally to this very day.

    2020 marked the beginning of a new decade.

    This year, on this very day, we have a choice moving forward.

    If we truly want to make the world a better place,

    It has to start with us.

    Instead of fearing one another,

    And viewing each other as enemies,

    We need to look at each other as humans,

    As neighbors,

    As an extended family,

    And we have to try to treat one another with empathy, compassion, and understanding.

    That is how we can make this world a better place.

  • Crossroads

    Crossroads

    2020 has been a crossroads for a great many things.

    It’s been an intersection for a lot of hate and negativity.

    Many words synonymous with negative can describe this year in a nutshell.

    One word in particular is that it has seemed like literal Hell.

    To some, this year has been really absurd.

    To others, it’s been apocalyptic in nature.

    Whatever the case though, we cannot let this year get us down.

    We have to stay positive and be hopeful that things will get better.

    If we want to improve the world, we have to take action and do so.

    We, each and every one of us, need to make the world better if we want to see it better,

    And we can do that.

    It all starts at the local level.

    Talk to people,

    Get to know them,

    And by doing that, you have the potential to reach the hearts and minds of many!

    This year is a crossroads.

    It is not just a crossroads of all the negative aspects of society,

    But it is also a crossroads of the futures we want to see.

    We have to decide from here what world we want to see.

    If we want to see a just one, a fair one, a democratic one,

    Then we have to strive for it,

    And we have to put in the work.

    All of us can do that,

    No matter our skillset.

    We all have the power to make the world great.

  • Pacifism

    Pacifism

    It hurts a lot inside us

    When we see so much violence.

    Peace is what we want most,

    But that cannot happen when there exists systemic oppression.

    We don’t want people hurt, to suffer or die.

    We don’t want people to lose their lives.

    We value human life. We see the good and potential that people have inside.

    We want people to be free, be happy, and be caring.

    We want people to live life without fear of being victims of cruelty.

    We want to live in a world where no one hurts one another and where we all treat each other like sisters and brothers.

    We’d all care for each other. We’d all be like family.

    How will we get there? I have no idea.

    Are there peaceful solutions? I hope that there are.

    In fact, I believe that there are.

    One thing’s for sure; I am a pacifist.

    I’m against using violence.

    I don’t want to hurt others.

    I care a lot about people.

    Hurting them, to me, is evil.

  • Sexism

    Sexism

    Sexism is terrible.

    It is horrendous.

    It is disastrous.

    It’s the treatment of one sex,

    Usually women,

    In a negative way

    For what’s between their legs.

    It is male privilege

    That perpetuates

    This messed up system.