Do Not Look Away

This is not normal.

We can pretend it isn’t happening. We can look away. We can immerse ourselves in the normalcy of our lives.

This is not the world we expected to be living in. This is not the world I wanted to raise Anisa in. But, it is.

We can’t pretend it isn’t happening. This is not normal.

As my friend, Eric K. Ward, wrote 12 days ago, Do Not Look Away.

Do Not Look Away

They want us small. Quiet. Home. Ashamed of our own fear.

That’s how this always works.

What you’re feeling right now isn’t weakness. It’s the body recognizing danger. It’s parents lying awake wondering if school is safe. It’s neighbors double-checking doors. It’s people deciding whether showing up will cost them something they can’t afford to lose.

Hear this clearly: fear is not failure.

What matters is what we do with it.

Some of us march. Some of us protect. Some of us document. Some of us organize quietly. Some of us keep food on the tables of our neighbors. Some keep kids safe and refuse to lie about what’s happening.

Courage doesn’t wear one uniform. It doesn’t demand perfection. It doesn’t belong only to the loudest or the bravest-looking.

But history does keep receipts.

There are moments when ordinary people decide whether they will shrink or stand in whatever way they can live with later. This is one of those moments.

You don’t need to be a hero out of a movie.

You just need to be honest. Present.

And unwilling to surrender your humanity.

If you’re scared, you’re not alone.

If you showed up anyway. Thank you. If you couldn’t today, tomorrow is still yours.

But don’t look away.

Don’t normalize what you know isn’t right. Don’t let fear turn you against each other.

This is how light survives. Not through outrage alone, but through millions of disciplined, imperfect acts of courage.

Be one of them.

We’ll recognize each other.