I was excited about my weekend post about poetry. I had chosen my theme. I was ready to go, even this morning.
And then I, as a trained journalist, continued to read and watch the news.
Although I am striving in the third year of my blog to narrow the focus to poetry, an art that has helped the world and humanity for centuries, sometimes the world gasps.
I know I did this week, first with the man who sent mail bombs to 14 Democratic political figures. His family attorney said he found a father figure in Donald Trump, the occupant of the White House who has applauded reporters being attacked.
Then, on a much different note, Megyn Kelly, a television host (still) with NBC news who is paid $23 million a year, asked during her (now canceled) show why blackface is considered racist, that wearing blackface for Halloween was a fun childhood tradition.
Megyn obtained her undergraduate degree from the same university I attended which has one of the best journalism schools in the country. I’ll never earn anywhere near $2.3 million let alone $23 million in my entire life, but I sure know instinctively without a lot of coaching that racially insensitive remarks are not only tone deaf and always out of bounds, but can also inflict a great deal of harm.
Which leads me to this morning when I decided to put my planned post on hold.
So far 11 people have been killed in a synagogue in Pittsburgh by a suspect who had a history of making anti-Semitic statements online. I am stunned and speechless which is why as a Quaker I can write in silence and hold families in Pittsburgh in the Light while my husband and our child attend Halloween festivities.
My daughter, born with an extra chromosome, will likely encounter misguided and hateful people in her life. Fortunately, like her other father, she is a Buddhist. We teach her every day to practice peace.
A good friend who follows this blog urged me to write more poetry as a way to inspire others to peaceably voice opposition to the violence and hatred that is becoming so prevalent these days, every day.
Poetry also helps me find a way to process what this middle-aged guy can truly say is the most frightening time in the United States he can ever remember.
Please join me in holding our country in the Light.