As a mom, a good night's sleep is always fleeting. Even if the kids don't wake me up, dreamland can be elusive because I'm worried about their general health and safety.
But this week, between more videos of kids being snatched right in front of their parents, and civilians and police being shot, I couldn't fall asleep last night. Once I did, I kept waking up, imagining my children as the victims of each of these horrific events. Our country is spinning out of control. If we don't do something - and soon - a civil war will result. But what? How do we change something so subtly infused into our culture that it permeates every fabric of our lives without us even knowing it?
And then I pictured a line of women, alternating black and white, marching down the street together. Every one of the victims and assailants in these tragedies has a mother. And I imagine all of them are grieving today. This fight will not be won by legislation - the government has spent the last 150 or so years tackling the legal side, yet still we struggle. The only way for our actions to change is for our hearts to change.
As mothers, what if we reached out to each other, faced our racial preconceptions head on, and formed a bond? And then that bond grew to friendship and love? And we passed that love to our children who we introduced to each other and helped them to develop their own bonds? And that love grew?
“Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.” – Robert Browning
