Grateful
I felt a deep sadness following the assassination of Benazir Bhutto. I saw her as a great source of hope and truth in the world. There was something in the narrative of the story of the human condition that seemed right: the exiled daughter returning, the people rallying around her, the world ready for a change of peace despite violence.
I see Barack Obama last night and as I am inspired, I also worry. I hear even a newscaster on FoxNews praise his speech. One on MSNBC remarks how he reminds him of Bobby Kennedy. Hope does take audacity. It’s quite something how people who preach the hate and fear that become violence rarely become victims of it themselves. It’s those that challenge us to look within ourselves and others, look past our differences, be the change we seek –it’s the Gandhi’s, King’s, Kennedy’s, Bhutto’s, that are slain.
I’m not saying we should even the score.
What I’m saying is that when Ms. Bhutto was killed, I was tempted to give up. I had to ask why.
Tagged as: Personal, Politics, Pop Culture, Writerly
