Sitting here with Lesley and Ed, I was shown articles about the recent rallies in France and all over the world. The picture of the mass of people caught my eye, it was beautiful. As Ed went on, he asked if I’d like to write something from a writer’s perspective. I sat there, staring at the picture with an untold amount of ideas popping and flashing through my mind; and the truth that I mostly feared what I would write, jumped to the front of the list of ideas. ‘I wouldn’t even know where to begin’, I told Lesley.
I love the solidarity of the French. I love that they won’t cower in fear and trade away some rights with the hope that, just maybe, another incident may be avoided. Most of all, I love that this has nothing to do with any of that. World leaders marched together, set aside their differences— for how long who knows– and people locked arms, filled the streets and presented the clearest image of what it is to be free.
I was reminded of how much this resembled the days after 9/11 and how those events gave me a little bit of hope for the future of this race. That warm, fuzzy feeling of course did not last long then, and I think this one is fleeting also.
I still fear. I fear the coming erosion of freedoms as much as I fear my own ideas about all of this. I have learned to self-censor and very often speak meekly and hold back. To censor an idea, however, is what scares me most. I haven’t even begun to use my voice, and I have no doubt that that voice will get me into trouble in the coming years.
I wonder if these people will remember, I wonder if the artists will make their stand. I hope in the very near future that I find that voice that few have really heard. I stand with every person who locked arms in cities all around the world and hoped that just maybe, the world will change. I hope I look at this someday and think, Yeah, I know where to begin; I am Charlie Hebdo…
