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Monday, April 14, 2008
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Snooping around for humanity amongst the rubble.
I’m an activist, to some extent, and I always try to know and understand what my country (U.S.) has done in our names and how its active support or unspoken approval has led to sometimes unspeakable crimes in the present or past. East Timor was one of them, one of the many which the news media are silent about, or even deny, in the rare case in which the subject is brought up.
One thing I’ve become aware of is that my activism and my armchair (or computer chair) warriorism can lead to the kind of personal dead-end where I just get bound up by the rage and ranting of political underdogism if I don’t keep in mind why it is I even care in the first place, what inner impulse makes me want to speak out and take action.
This photo is the kind of reminder that helps me remember. It’s so tenderly shot, with such care. The look on this woman’s face -- genuine and soulful, pensive, captured perfectly in the slight upward gaze while the other face seems to be searching in the other direction. It reminds me of why I'm an activist. You could say that I do what I do to speak for that soulful, thoughtful part of myself and others.
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