Just as a child clings to his parent, it, in fear of the night that dare engulf it, so to will our democracy will cling to education and the educated against the encroaching darkness of hate. For it is the open door of a school that leads to open door of the polling booth. It is imperative that we understand that by empowering the parent, we empower the child.
Throughout human history there is there was an element of untouchability that we applied to our fellow human beings, the belief that certain people were beneath others the fact their mere touch would be polluting. Such a system existed in India through caste, in japan as Burakumin, and often was culturally socially and religiously enforced. While this system was wrong, that is not to say untouchables do not exist. The true untouchable is not born as such, nor made to be. The true untouchable pollutes not with his body but with his mind his surroundings, he who chooses to divide our beautiful humanity, defiles the ideologies of unity to ones of division. The true untouchable is a product of choice, for he who is the one who chooses to hate.
In my culture when a person is dead they are burned, that how it is, that how it should be. Yet in forgetting forgiveness, in holding on to their hate, their anger so many come to lie in their funeral pyres long before their time. Flames recognizing neither the dead nor alive consume a man all the same. It is up to a man how he wants to meets that fire, at peace and at rest or in a state of turmoil and alive.
There is no joy in revenge, it is but the path of emptiness, the path of utter poverty. In marching down it I have brought my enemy suffering as they did me, yet it is I who feels who wronged, who is being robbed of peace. I traded away the bitter pill of forgiveness for the sweet poison of vengeance.
of course its easy to hate on the homeless, the poor and drug addicted and the prostitutes, basically the people society mostly doesn’t give a shit about, its easy to chalk up their present conditions as shitty or bad life decisions. But what I also find is its a lot harder to hold on to that hate, when one reminds themselves that those people weren’t always like that, that they too were children once.
“Hatred is a poison, that poisons the poisoner before the one that it is intended for”