I should write a post about Baltimore.
I have an opinion. I’m sure for many it would be the wrong side, or maybe readers would agree and deem my thoughts correct, right. I’m not sure. I have things to say, feelings to express, but when I try to put them down, they are too big, too much, and I get tangled.
What is going on in Baltimore, and in several places around the country, is not a blog post or a newspaper article. It’s not a lead story accompanied by an ominous theme song.
It is a breakdown.
A lack of respect and a disregard for dignity. It is stupidity and arrogance, it is entitlement and resentment. It is too much and not enough. It is humankind at our worst. We are better than this, on all sides, all shades. I’m always left wondering why no one is really talking?
I know there are academics and pundits, activists with theories and studies. There are experts and the new catch phrase, “perceived prejudice”. People sitting in chairs with makeup on and videos, lots of clips and snips meant to induce what? Fear? Anger? Division?
None of this works or helps. We are in the same spot we were the last time this made the news. In two weeks it will all fade into the background without a sit down at the table discussion. Nothing will be decided or fixed or even nudged in a proper direction.
People will be pissed on both sides, vocal on both sides, and yet nothing, nothing will change.
I wonder if this craziness, these types of train wrecks, benefit certain people? I wonder if stirring the pot, focussing on the worst, the horrid, the exception, feeds the machine? I’m not sure what all of this serves, but I’m certain it is not the people of Baltimore, nor is it the police officers around our country.
Instead of talking about Baltimore, I was going to reminisce about my Etch-A-Sketch. How I could never make a circle, even if I leaned into the dial, but now I feel too grown-up, too adult. Maybe after things settle down, again.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Curfew.