I am an Assyrian American. I was born at Edgewater Hospital in Chicago in September of 1981. I was raised in Chicago and Des Plaines. Eventually we moved further into the suburbs before I moved back to Chicago when I was 17.
My people, the Assyrians, one of the oldest ethnic groups in human history, is on a countdown to extinction. Our numbers have dwindled to between four million and seven million worldwide, dispersed by geography, religion, and petty infighting.
As this very real genocide of indifference rages, those who have sworn to protect the oppressed willfully ignore our struggle, encouraged to do so by political expedience.
The existence of my people on Earth is a trifling inconvenience for some considerably influential people. Our very small numbers only hastens our imminent destruction. While academics play semantics, we tear ourselves apart. While religious leaders grab for power, we are rapidly approaching zero.
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