Fourteen Thousand
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LISTENING: to last year's possibilities playlist
FEELING: the call of gemini season
SEEING: my cat's hair all over everything
I've downloaded Instagram again, and my feed has been full of one particular bit of news: The U.N. told the BBC Tuesday that 14,000 babies in Gaza could die over the next 48 hours if Israel doesn't let aid into the area.
By the time you all read this, the 48 hours will have passed. Israel has reportedly let some aid trucks into Gaza Wednesday, but as of my writing, Palestinians have yet to receive the life-or-death goods. Sigh. How many babies have died? How many could have been fed but were not? Their land and food weaponized against them?
When I was walking down my block Tuesday, I saw a toddler with a man I'm guessing was his dad. The boy was giggling and playing, squealing with joy. I nearly cried as I heard him and thought about the children of Palestine.
They're the ones who shape that sacred space — where crisis and community meet — where possibilities lie.
These days, I'm thinking a lot about the 57 children in Gaza who have already died due to Israel's aid blockade. About the over 15,000 children who have died from Israel's bombs and air strikes. About the gardens, groves, and greenhouses Israel destroyed that could have helped keep Gazans fed. About the babies in my life and how much they have left to live. How many dreams they have yet to chase. How much I'd grieve their loss. How lucky I am to trust they'll remain safe. For now.
Atmos
President Joe Biden has been diagnosed with prostate cancer, and the internet seems to think that his ailment washes away all his wrongs. This isn't the moment to be angry with him, it seems. Let's just be mad at President Donald Trump, right? Well, if I'm going to point fingers, I'm going to point them at all the culprits — not just the one asshole most deserving of it today.
Biden brought us to this place. He built the foundation. The blood of Gaza's children is on his hands, too. Not just Trump's. I won't mourn his loss. And I have no shame in saying that. He was never a president I was proud of.
Now, there is one leader who recently passed whom I did admire. His name was José Mujica, former president of Uruguay. He was a flower farmer. He died at 89 from esophagus cancer. During his presidency from 2010 to 2015, he legalized cannabis and same-sex marriage, the Guardian reports. He was a revolutionary, once a guerrillero fighting for the people. He spoke strongly in support of the environment.
Even as president, Mujica lived a simple life, staying in a tiny home on a farm, not the presidential palace he was offered. I'm sure he was flawed. Most politicians are. But he was inspiring. He fought for the people — he fought alongside them. He understood the struggle of so many. Few politicians these days do.
In his last interview with Búsqueda, Mujica said with tears in his eyes, "It's easy to respect those who think like you, but we must learn that the foundation of democracy is respect for those who think differently."
His words hold true here in the U.S., where the fabric of democracy continues to unravel. May this guerrero rest in power as he deserves. And may the rest of us do what we can to defend our democracy and honor his legacy before it's too late. 🌀
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