The Adventure Led Me Here

Over 11 million people are displaced right now because of the conflict in Syria. 11 million.  It’s hard for me to fathom the enormity of that number. For perspective, that is more than the population of Wyoming, Vermont, Alaska, North Dakota, South Dakota, Delaware, Montana, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, and Maine combined. 11 million people who do not currently have what the UN have declared as basic human rights. Lives are literally at stake in places torn apart by war and chaos. We cannot turn our faces or our backs . Talking about the situation can be difficult because it makes us acknowledge that inequality and injustice actually exist. This is what author and advocate for equality Gary Howard refers to as the Luxury of Ignorance (Howard, 2006). For so long, it has been easier for me to glide right on by these issues because, as soon as I admit injustice exists, I am forced to then either become part of the problem or part of the solution. Becoming part o

             I’m the person who can quite literally say that she gets lost in parking lots. It’s a running joke that if I’m ever late for something, it’s probably because I’m lost, driving in circles. I’m sure that after I finish watching the TV show LOST (Sidenote: Yes, I realize that I’m about ten years late on this one), I’ll be able to write some deep comparison of the show to my life.                 Today, I was attempting to drive to a church concert event that a friend invited me to. I left with plenty of time to spare. Music cranked up, clouds dotting the blue skies, and no traffic. The trip was off to an excellent start. As I watched the tiny digital numbers tick by on the dashboard, I was sure I was actually going to arrive early. However, after I passed the same yellow Victorian era house four times, I realized that, in spite of my best intentions to follow the soothing voice of Google Maps, I had been going in circles.                 ‘No big deal,’ I told myself. ‘