Each time, I hold my breath, waiting to hear that the family is safe, tears of anger being choked back. It’s sick, the reality of saying “each time”, as if this is to be accepted as normal. My cultural and religious roots are the foundation of my life and the reality of being a mark for merely existing is the source of my appreciation for breath. It’s impossible for me to be just one thing in my online life when reality is made of many parts. I am endlessly blessed for my parent’s immigration to the US. Blame being placed on anyone other than the group of truly heinous people does nothing to comfort us. Divide is for the weak, for the cowards, for the fodder of evil. It’s true that evil will gain its own version of success, but the strength of truth and the strength of love, is that it lasts.