Against Indifference

I’d already turned out the lights on the first day of the new year, knowing I’d have fewer hours to sleep than usual and that I intended to make the best of the day that would begin at 4:20 a.m. when the thought occurred to me: how many people consider something for 20-odd years before taking action.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’ve been debating the issue hotly for all these years. I’ve been busy. Everybody says that, I know, but some of us actually are BUSY. Innywho, the thought of becoming a foster parent occurred to me when I was writing a story about the system more than 20 years ago. That was several years after I’d served as a nanny and several years before I’d served as a birthing coach. I’m still in quite close contact with both families. Thank you very much. And now, having been a volunteer in the NICU for more than 144 hours in the span of a year and having taught Holocaust Studies for four, it strikes me again that genocide takes more than government-sponsored murder to succeed. It requires the indifference of countless individuals whose good names remain as unknown as their good deed. So yes, I’m still busy, but the longer I live the less indifferent I become and, akin to the child in the legend of the starfish, even though my effort may make little difference on the body-strewn beach called life, these very same efforts will make a difference to this one. Thanks for the push, Asa.



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