Day 81

Sunday May 31, 2020  A nation in crisis. Now there is no doubt. As if a global pandemic, rising unemployment rates, an economic downward spiral, a growing national debt, cultural wars on health and safety, and stay-at-home orders were not enough; bring on social unrest. The world is reeling and fear reigns.  Anxiety levels were already high for most U.S. citizens trying to survive a pandemic that has taken 100,000 American lives and decimated the economy.  Thousands more are infected and hospitalized while many others fear they may be carriers or could be infected by going out in the public.  And amidst all this a black man is killed by a white police officer in Minneapolis setting off a host of protests across the nation, some of which have turned violent. Throw in vandalism and looting and fires and one might think the world is coming to an end. For some it may feel exactly like that.
A nation mourns, cries out in anger and pain and points fingers demanding justice and change.
Sadly, we have seen this before. In 1968, when the U.S. involvement in the Vietnam war was at it's peak, protests and riots were common place. In April, when Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, protests and riots went on for a month. In cities across the country fires burned, businesses were looted, public structures were vandalized and destroyed and more than 40 people lost their lives.  The racial tensions of that time are possibly equal to the situation we find ourselves in now.  The dissimilarity of health care in the country between minorities and the rest of the nation was further exacerbated when the virus hit us. The tension was rising as people were forced to stay home.  Many lost their jobs which meant the potential to lose their housing and all the while struggling against a virus that kills without adequate health care.  Add to this a political tenure strewn with controversy during an election year and you have one-helluva tumultuous cocktail mixture that is our America.
The soil is bloodied. The air is infected. The hearts are broken. The world on fire. As protests erupt in cities across the nation we burn literally and figuratively. We burn with fear. We burn with rage. We burn with frustration. We burn with sorrow. We burn inside our brains over atrocities against blacks that have persisted for decades. We burn inside our hearts over the injustice to blacks and minorities in a multitude of areas of life.   Our world seemed to fall apart in 1968 as waves of protests continued throughout the year. In the beginning of 1969 the promise of change from a president offering "peace with honor" was on the minds of U.S. citizens, but the end of the decade and the birth of the seventies would only bring further unrest and distrust. It was not until 1975, as the U.S. involvement in Vietnam came to an end, that we were able to have hope for a better tomorrow. What in these torrid times will bring us hope? The end of the pandemic? A vaccine? A change in leadership?  I do not have the answers. I am among the hopeful and my wish is that whatever can heal us it comes quickly.