Kisses not KKK

It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m catching up on Facebook after spending a lovely morning disconnected from technology and reconnecting with my body and soul.

I was blissfully unaware of the ugliness happening around me. With a quick scroll through Facebook, that ignorance quickly faded away.

I read post after post about Virginia. I see pictures of young men who would rather I not be in this country, let alone exist. It doesn’t matter that I’m a third generation American — more than many of them, I’m sure. It doesn’t matter that both of my grandfathers fought for the United States during World War II. I’m Jewish, so that’s just not good enough. My family isn’t good enough.

Kisses

The fear, worry and anger of my friends is reflected online. As I scroll through my feed, my heart sinks. This is not the world I want for my kids.

One post stops me. It us simply a searchable list of all the hate groups in this country. I want to look, because, although I may be up North, I know bigotry isn’t a Southern exclusive. Far from it.

While I’m looking at my phone, my two-year-old is snuggling with me. I try to do a search of my area, but my son keeps giving me kisses. At first, I try to push him away. I am concerned for my family, and want to know what sort of hate lurks near my door. But, every time, I get close to typing in my information, my son pulls my face close to his and pecks me on my lips. It is both adorable and frustrating.

I surrender, finally, realizing, in this moment, a search for hate groups is less important than enjoying the beautiful love of my child.

This isn’t to say being aware of hate isn’t important. We must know what sort of vileness is in our midst. Knowledge will help us fight against injustice, bigotry, discrimination and everything else which keeps our society down. Truth is power.

My desire for truth will lead me to completing that hate group search, eventually.

But, not yet.

For now, I enjoy the magic and wonder of the world through my children’s eyes.

For now, I celebrate the blessings in my life.

For now, I have hope for humanity.

For now, I choose kisses, not KKK searches.

 

1 thought on “Kisses not KKK

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