Fortunately my mum taught me to love animals, so my regrets lurk in other areas... at my Secondary Modern School in the early 70's Whiter than White London suburbs one day there appeared two new kids - Roma kids. John Smith and Aaron Duval. Of course these two kids were the butt end of endless abuse from the moment they set foot in the school. I watched on knowing that the racist bullying and name calling was deeply wrong. I liked these two outsider kids a lot, probably because I identified with their 'otherness'. As a proto Queer kid I kept my head down and pretended to be like everyone else. One day the chief bully took the taunting too far and ending up enlisting a group of kids to beat the shit out of Aaron. It ended up with Aaron throwing his books down and walking out never to return. John went after him. Although I took no part in the beating I watched on, doing nothing to help Aaron, too much of a coward to get involved. There was also an incident involving a Black student teacher, which I knew was deeply wrong but... I said and did nothing. The guilt and sadness over not standing up and speaking out against wickedness remains a stain you can't wash out. In the first weeks of the genocide in Gaza I asked my friend Shadi if it was respectful for me to wear a kefiah in support, he said of course I could and he gave me one of his, made in Gaza. I still feel powerless but at least, these days I raise my voice.
Over the years I've come to think of life, here on Earth, as some kind of training. I'm pretty certain if you don't have regrets and remorse then you didn't learn anything...
Heavens that's wonderful.
Fortunately my mum taught me to love animals, so my regrets lurk in other areas... at my Secondary Modern School in the early 70's Whiter than White London suburbs one day there appeared two new kids - Roma kids. John Smith and Aaron Duval. Of course these two kids were the butt end of endless abuse from the moment they set foot in the school. I watched on knowing that the racist bullying and name calling was deeply wrong. I liked these two outsider kids a lot, probably because I identified with their 'otherness'. As a proto Queer kid I kept my head down and pretended to be like everyone else. One day the chief bully took the taunting too far and ending up enlisting a group of kids to beat the shit out of Aaron. It ended up with Aaron throwing his books down and walking out never to return. John went after him. Although I took no part in the beating I watched on, doing nothing to help Aaron, too much of a coward to get involved. There was also an incident involving a Black student teacher, which I knew was deeply wrong but... I said and did nothing. The guilt and sadness over not standing up and speaking out against wickedness remains a stain you can't wash out. In the first weeks of the genocide in Gaza I asked my friend Shadi if it was respectful for me to wear a kefiah in support, he said of course I could and he gave me one of his, made in Gaza. I still feel powerless but at least, these days I raise my voice.
Over the years I've come to think of life, here on Earth, as some kind of training. I'm pretty certain if you don't have regrets and remorse then you didn't learn anything...
That's a wonderful thought
Well maybe that hedgehog saved you