Imagine.
Imagine a thirteen year old girl (or a boy; there is no difference). She's dodging back and forth on one side of a street. Sometimes she comes close, other times she scampers away. Sometimes she is frozen in place but filled with nervous energy; you can almost see her vibrate with the power of it. Sometimes she races from one place to another with barely any recognition of where she is or where she is going; all she knows is that she is moving and moving fast. Sometimes she sits on the ground, completely frustrated with where she is. Sometimes she weeps. Sometimes she's angry. Sometimes she's utterly without energy, sapped of it to her very core.
She knows she is supposed to cross the street. She has seen others cross the street. She has been told to cross the street. She's been yelled at to cross the street. She's had someone offer to hold her hand as she crosses the street (but that same person says she must learn, eventually, to cross the street on her own).
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Imagine.
Imagine the thirteen year old girl in a forest. She has come to a stream that she must cross. The forest is screaming with sounds: laughter, crazed talking, bells and whistles, grunts and groans and moans and grumblings. Other beings- animals? humans?- dart from tree to tree. Sometimes the trees, themselves, seem to move closer to her, surrounding her, trapping her. Sometimes she knows that everything in the forest is watching her, judging her, making decisions about her. Sometimes she feels completely alone and ignored. Every so often she sees or hears the sounds of violence. With so many others around her, eventually a couple meet and do battle. It could be all display with the pounding of chests and the screeching of warnings, or it could be the sights and sounds of a physical lashing-out. Sometimes the violence is sneaky; it's a mumbling, a whisper, a note passed from hand to hand.
And someone is standing in the stream, calling to her to cross over. That someone could carry her so that her feet don't get wet, but then she would never learn what it is like to cross without that help. That someone could come up to her and grab her and drag her through the stream to the other side, but then she would always associate crossing with fear and intimidation. That someone could keep beckoning to her but there is never a guarantee that she will finally come down to the stream. For all the terrors that exist in the forest, it is at least familiar. That someone could offer to hold her hand while she crossed, but she can see that there's more forest on the other side and more streams to cross. Where will that someone be when she needs to cross again? When will she be alone, without help, vulnerable?
This...is...what...it...is...like.
In your heart of hearts, don't you want to help her? Or do you look at her and think, "Some are weak, some are strong. You can't help the weak. It would be a waste of resources. Better to support the strong on their way." Or are you angry at that the someone who is trying to get her to cross the street and the stream? Do you think there are others who could do a better job? Do you think the someone needs more training or better training or needs to be punished somehow? Or are you sad and you throw your hands in the air and say, "What can you do?" Do you think the street and the forest can be organized better, be more efficient, keeping track of all of the successful crossings? Do you rage, asking why any thirteen year old should even have to cross the street or the stream? Do you shake your fist at the whole thing, knowing that it is all just a prison that the child needs to be freed from? Or do you shake your fist at the whole thing, declaring your wonder at why those in charge aren't more in control?
Or do you want to build a well-regulated, working system for crossing the street? Put in all the machines and signs necessary to make the crossing easier and safer? Hire enough someones that no thirteen year old is left on one side for too long?
Or do you want to build a bridge across the stream? Yes, build a nice bridge that is safe, stable, supported and fits into the surrounding area? A bridge that can be called beautiful? A bridge that all can be proud of?
This...is...the...real...choice.