Sometimes I think there is no hope for this world. We are the generation that will watch as people and nations are ripped apart in the name of religion. We are the generation that will, with our own two hands and our hate filled hearts, bring about an apocalypse.
And then I see people quietly standing in solidarity, willing to offer support to the oppressed and those in pain, and I feel hope. But it often gets crushed.
Brutally.
And then I want to just ignore the world and retreat into my own mind, my own life, my most immediate surroundings. But that is no way to live – like an ostrich.
Is there any hope for us? Or are we a generation doomed?
Will they write about us in their history books, condemning our every choice, our every action, pointing us out as the most hate-filled generation since Hitler?
Or will we manage to reverse course? To realize that we are more similar than we are different? That at the end of the day, we are all humans…we all face similar problems…to greater or smaller degrees…and that if we only try, if we extend a hand to those around us, we can make this world a beautiful place.
Will we ever be able to celebrate our one-ness, or will we always be divided over our other-ness?
