I couldn't live with myself if I didn't continue to advocate for my refugee families. I couldn't stand the thought that if only I had spoken up, maybe you would have helped do something about it.
I'm begging you, please take a moment to think about what difference you're capable of making. Think about how loud your voice can really be. Think about the number of people you see in a day, the opportunities you have to advocate - to do something.
And please, look at the photos, read the actual news reports, hear the testimonies from credible sources. Look at these photos.
You'll be sad, feel sick, and want to look away. There is no blood, no injuries, no war in these pictures. What there is though, are several innocent children being carried across a flooded, fast-moving river, there is a wheelchair, there is a father with only two hands and himself and two children to get across the raging current.
Behind them, atrocious conditions in a muddied up, worn out, and under-stocked refugee camp. In front of them, a closed Macedonian border. Their options are slim. Their options are grim. But they are their only options because farther behind them lies nothing but urban wastelands of barrel-bombed towns.
I have so many questions about how a species as advanced as humans could be so heartless and disconnected from one another. I find myself routinely lost in confusion about how we allow – nay, force – families to walk hundreds of miles, risk and often lose their lives trekking unnecessarily perilous routes to safety, live in deplorable conditions in refugee camps, and truthfully have no security whatsoever in the world. How can any person objectively believe any refugee deserves this treatment?
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