I don’t know whether it is a symptom of reading one too many dystopian novels, but more and more often, when I ponder our future, I am afraid.
I hate that I am afraid.
[clickToTweet tweet=”Would my children resent me if I stood up for my beliefs but was taken away? Or would they resent more if I was a coward, stayed meek & obedient, but was allowed to remain? #dystopia #bigbrother #fear #parenting #resist” quote=”Would my children resent me if I stood up for my beliefs but was taken away? Or would they resent more if I was a coward, stayed meek & obedient, but was allowed to remain? ” theme=”style1″]
When I read about a National registry of bloggers and journalists and their opinions – OUR opinions – MY opinions, I fear. I fear the words that spill out. I fear that I am actually a coward. I fear that I will be silenced. I fear that even if I am silent in the future, it will be too late.
The internet lives forever.
When I read about Dreamers and immigrants deported from our country and the rising hate crimes against Asians in the US, I worry. Despite me being an American citizen by birth, I know from history, how little that matters in the face of hate.
Even if you have a valid US birth certificate, as long as you’re not white, your right to be here will always be in question – whether you are the President of the United States or a regular, boring citizen.
I am afraid.
My paternal grandfather fled China to Taiwan when the Kuomingtang lost after WWII. He threw down his luggage at the train station to his waiting family while he stayed on the train. His family thought he was going to the next stop but he never came back. My paternal grandmother also fled China (I can’t remember why – or maybe I never knew) to Taiwan as well.
They did not see their families for decades.
I do not know my paternal family in China. I met a few of them – but I barely know how many siblings each of my grandparents had – let alone how many children they had or how many cousins I have. I suppose I could just ask my Uncle, but he didn’t seem that interested or inclined to keep a record when I asked about a family tree.
I only know my cousins from my mom’s side, but even then, I never have only spoken a few words to my maternal grandparents. Our conversations lost to the vast expanse of an ocean and lack of language. They only spoke Taiwanese and I barely spoke Mandarin.
I am afraid that the family I have in the US will be truncated. That we may be forced to flee. That we may go to war. That we may be lost.
That we will be lost.
It happened to my grandparents. It has happened to millions of others.
Of course, it can happen here.
But I bury my head in denial. I tell myself it is impossible. We would never let it happen.
But I don’t think that is true.
I’d like to think that I’m a rebel. That I am brave. That I would speak out.
But I think instead, that I would choose silence.
[clickToTweet tweet=”I #fear the words that spill out. I fear that I am actually a coward. I fear that I will be silenced. I fear that even if I am silent in the future, it will be too late. The internet lives forever. #silence #resist” quote=”I fear the words that spill out. I fear that I am actually a coward. I fear that I will be silenced. I fear that even if I am silent in the future, it will be too late. The internet lives forever.” theme=”style1″]
I think of my children and wonder. Would they resent me more if I stood up for my beliefs but was taken away? Or would they resent more if I was a coward and stayed meek and obedient but was allowed to remain?
I hope we never have to find out.
