I’ve always loved the last line in The Lorax. “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing will get better. It’s not.” There’s hope in this line and there’s desperation too. I feel that right now as I see people outraged at the abuse of power, the loss of life that didn’t have to happen, the pain of generations of people who have watched in fear, waited for change, and struggle to understand. People do care. I care. I’m sorry for the injustice that is heaped upon others because of skin color, because of fear, because of differences in belief. It’s wrong. It’s a struggle I grieve from the outside. My place in this world has afforded me distance to watch and to respond if I want to. That’s wrong too. I’m sorry for looking the other way when I see injustice. I let fear drive my actions and I hide from hard things. I think when we don’t know what to do, we walk away. But that doesn’t change anything. So I’m turning my posture towards the heat of the flames. I still don’t know what to do. But I see you, I see your fight. I hear your cries for justice. I want that for you. We can’t have peace until every human is valued as beautifully and wonderfully made.