Dystopia

Tonight, as I listened to the news, I heard our leader say that we had to be careful not to criticize a certain country, because we "sell them lots of stuff". It doesn't matter that the leader of said country lured a reporter into an embassy (while his fiancee waited outside), and had him murdered, and dismembered.

I also heard that the Department of Homeland Security was censuring the Department of Homeland Security for using incorrect statistics regarding children who have been reunited with their refugee parents. Apparently, employees have been lax at keeping track. There are still many children being detained in camps.

What will be the tipping point? When will we regain our moral compass as a country?

I would like to hang my hopes on the midterm elections, but I know that the madness will continue. There will be hacking, there will be people trying to suppress votes. It's already happening in Georgia. My cynical self feels that if the leadership of our country is allowed to continue, despite the midterm elections, then maybe we will just be getting the government that we actually deserve, as a people. A few days ago, a 7th grader asked me if I liked reading dystopian fiction. I said, "We are currently living in the middle of dystopian reality, aren't we?" He stared at me blankly.

I've been re-listening to The Count of Monte Cristo of late. I read the book for the first time when I went back to college in order to get my teaching credential. Reading it again, in this day and age is a revelation. Edmond is a good man, a sparkly, starry-eyed idealist. He is completely destroyed and broken, and seeks vengeance as a result. His revenge takes him down some horribly dark paths, and he becomes a different, hardened person. I feel that watching my country swirl down the toilet is turning everything that I've ever felt about society on it's ear. I long for the comforting voice of Marco Werman. He's nice, and normal. He looks at the big picture. I have also started pining for demonstrations of kindness. They are out there, and no matter how small, they provide a warm reminder of who we once were. I have a little boy in my class, named Angel. He is unusually wise. I like to talk with him every day, because he reminds me of what I love about people. I don't want to turn into Edmond. I want to be hopeful...