posted on May, 18 2008 @ 11:35 AM
Originally posted by Anonymous ATS
I had a horrible experience where i was detained in london with my small child when i couldn’t buy a ticket for the train as ticket machine was out.
I was grabbed by the arms in front of my small son and circled by four men, i was very scared and he was crying and begging not to go to prison. We
left the station in tears only when and old man came to me with the ticket machine to pay. I asked myself is this what the world has become? and for
weeks cried whilst looking at my sleeping child at how his future would unfold in such a place.
One way I deal with my own fears and feelings of being victimized is to put them in context.
While that was no doubt a very uncomfortable situation, it is really very mild in the history of humanity. I am not certain the it is indicative of
what the world has become, or only a small reminder of what the world has been for as long as we have records to tell us.
The Inquisition, the Holocaust, Stalin's activities, the murder by machete of some 500,000 to 800,000 in Rwanda, the 750,000 to 1.7 million killed by
Pol Pot's activities, and the list could go on, and on, and on. All of these happened long before the birth of your son. In fact, there has been no
time in human history where the world has been "safe," though we idealize periods of time in our personal or familial or ethnic histories where we
were allowed the illusion of security. (Which generally, and ironically, we secure by having perpetrated some violence against a feared "other" to
ensure that security)
It is "a cold hard fact" of human nature when war, or brutality happens to some unknown person in some unnamed village. We gloss over it and go
about our business, shaking our heads in an oh so brief moment of sorrow, (or, more honestly, relief that it is not OUR reality).
It is a "tragedy" when it happens to US.
No matter what has befallen me, no matter how unjust I feel life itself or other humans may have been to me in some particular circumstance, I never
allow myself to forget my good fortune. Nor to forget those so much more unjustly treated.