Life is short, though I keep this from my children.
Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine
in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,
a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways
I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least
fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative
estimate, though I keep this from my children.
For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.
For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,
sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful.
— Maggie Smith, “Good Bones” 

The nation spent the past week replaying a killing in slow motion, reviewing each angle, analyzing movements as if they were dissecting a sports play — trying hard to justify an ICE agent’s shooting (that failed to follow the federal government’s own protocols) and ultimate death of a woman in Minnesota. Most of the U.S., it seems, have become referees, forensic analysts, judge, and jury. Those who’ve waved “Don’t Tread On Me” flags have, bafflingly, joined the “Comply or Die” team. Or as I’ve seen recently, maybe they’ve always meant, “Tread on everyone but me.” I’m afraid all of them may come to find the treading will only get worse. The masked Gestapo has been welcomed in; an invitation that may be hard to retract now that their work is in motion. Many, many Americans are okay with law enforcement acting beyond their own authority, without oversight or accountability. Many are saying, “You deserve to die if you don’t follow orders.” 

I don’t have children, but if I did, I would try to keep this from them. I would want to shield them from the horrors of the world. Unfortunately, it’s too late for young eyes and minds who have been glued to screens since they were toddlers. It’s too late for the teen TikTokers and Instagram-ers. It’s too late for the college-agers who see what’s going on around them — social and economic collapse — and fear for their own futures. It’s too late for the brown children whose homes have been raided, their parents taken from them. It’s too late for any of us living in occupied cities who are witnessing these armed, masked men in undercover vehicles stalking our churches, schools, and businesses looking for their next prey. It’s too late for the rest of the country — and the world — who are watching this unfold in real time online and afraid for the United States, afraid for the freedoms being stripped from us, afraid that anyone could be next. Everything is at least half terrible, and I wish we could keep this from the innocent. 

If I stand in front of armed agents asking for a badge or warrant, taking video footage, or otherwise documenting this rogue operation, should I be killed? If I piss one them off in the process, am I a “fucking bitch” who deserves to die?

I’m taking a breather from screaming into the void about false data, missing arrest records, and made-up statistics. No one gives a damn. They will find some path to explain away blatant lies, obfuscation, and yes, even murder. I’m not so sure our home — and I don’t mean Memphis, but the country — has good bones. And it’s increasingly become a real shithole. That’s in large part because of those who value “law” over life, or profit over people. If you can’t think critically and understand the scope of what is happening, I can’t help you. But you may find out on your own soon enough if you don’t fix your hearts and open your eyes. 

I’m not trying to sell you on anything. But please take a moment to consider: “This place could be beautiful, right?” United — and with care for every human life — we could make this place beautiful.