I have not the words.

It’s Sunday April 13th. Tomorrow I will be giving a speech to my whole school.  A school full of girls. Two hundred and two girls sleep in their dorms about 1000 meters from my house. Tomorrow they will write essays.  Tomorrow they will prepare for spanish tests and physics tests.  They will brave the general difficulty that comes with being a teenager.

Their parents are at home in California, Massachusetts, Hong Kong, and Nigeria.  They are asleep.  They have chosen that their daughters be educated at this place. That their daughters be given the opportunities granted only by living in these gray walls.

My girls have brothers and sisters who they talk to as often as possible.  They have boyfriends and girlfriends and all types of friends. They are very very lucky. I am thinking about all of this as I write my speech.

Then in the middle of the night armed men enter the building and light it on fire. It is a well known fact that our school is built like an oven, stone on the outside wood on the inside.  The girls, being smart and well trained, evacuate.  There they are kidnapped. In whatever they are wearing, with whatever they have, they are removed from our care. They are taken in the night by these men with guns.

Before the government responds they are taken across international borders.  They do not call their parents or talk to their friends.  They are gone.

They have been missing now for two weeks. About twenty managed to escape but the rest seem to have vanished. Their parents are on TV begging for their daughters to be returned as news ticker divulges the details the last celebrity engagement.

There are stories about them being sold and married off and killed but they don’t eclipse the truly important opening of the new superhero movie.  Because this is America and we know what’s important.

It has been eighteen days and we have not gotten them back.

The thing is it would never happen here because my girls are wealthy, my girls live in America, and most of my girls are white. The problem with that is the girls taken in Nigeria are mine, too. They are all of ours.  So why aren’t we acting like it?

 

 

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3 thoughts on “I have not the words.

  1. It’s tough that tragedy that is so immediate and devastating to those affected may only be a blip on the radar for other people. You just want to scream in their faces and say, “Wake the fuck up! This is terrible! Why don’t you care?” If only that would help.

  2. There are certain events that strike so deep that I just want to hide my head in the sand. This is one of the things.

    However, I am not an apocryphal ostrich, and I know that this is not the way to deal. I understand the desire to hide, but I have little sympathy for those who actually do so.

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