A Political Rant, perhaps

-“Everyone has an opinion, everyone has an opinion,” he says, “everyone has an opinion.” And let’s just leave it at that, he doesn’t have to say it, it’s in the words. “If you haven’t been there, you can’t say. Marines, ten year,” he says
I’m trying to see the bigger picture, and maybe it’s a little arrogant, and maybe I shouldn’t, but I can’t not, I have to and I do. I do try.
People dying and we’re worried about Christmas, Nike, New Year and the EGR valve on a Saturn. Thinking about plasma TVs, a television world without worries.
And the children, they come and go, they come and go, like the women in the rooms talking about Michelangelo. But there’s a bigger picture here. The question: Does anyone care?
I’m adamant in my belief that it starts in the class and it begins with the kids. So why are we turning our backs? Sending them off to war and other places. Correctional facilities erase our social responsibility?
“I’ll give,” you say, “monetarily. My taxes go there. But time, that’s precious.” And it can’t be turned back. “So I’ll continue on, my time,” you say. Turn your back and walk away.
You turn and leave, your back to me, and my story. The story about these kids being ignored, neglected, misdirected and ill-guided. But we’re building for them, we’re building for their future. Correctional facilities outnumber schools. Remember they take your taxes too.
And you continue walking, ignoring the signs, graffiti, people acting out. It may have something to do with the fact that no one cared to help when they were coming through. But go ahead, walk off, you don’t have to care now; someday you will but by then it’ll be too late.
Ignore, ignore, deny it. It’s not happening to you, it’s not your kid. “Let them be what they’ll be,” you say. Continue walking away.
It’s rough, and loneliness and insecurity create hate. It’s not their fault. The situation is what it is, it’s what society creates.
I understand, been there done that. I got through. Maybe because I did and I do, I can’t turn my back on those struggling through now. It’s not an easy journey, or a smooth path and the transition undoes, if no one’s looking out. We’d rather not think, ‘no man is an island,’ but it’s true. I may not be here, if not for all those involved; the kind hearts and the problems they solved.
Everyone has an opinion it’s true. But it’s not my opinion, rather, that I understand, so I do what I do. And I keep believing we can create change, and I keep hoping for solidarity and I keep standing, telling my story, their story, alone.