I don’t suppose it really matters that I’m not a fan of dystopian literature. The world doesn’t come to an end, and neither does the genre. Plenty of people are.
And as someone asked the other day, are optimists simply insane for believing in possibilities despite some very good evidence to the contrary? Has any utopia, ever, worked? No. But for some reason, my heart continues to yearn for Hope rather than acquiescing to discouragement.
Did hundreds run out to say no to the hatred and fear that the other day’s course offered? No. But twenty-five did and more wrote. Do I wish some of those that wrote would have been there to stand with us. Surely. Talk’s cheap. We know that.
“Great Job! Thanks!” doesn’t move the world. Maybe it’s stupid to think that more movement will gather more believers. But when our children are hungry, I have to believe we’re going to want to feed them. Because we can make a difference. I sometimes say I’m clapping for Tinkerbelle, but really, I don’t believe this requires magical solutions. It simply needs people to open their hearts and their wallets. $10 a month feeds a kid for a year.
Believe in all the vampires you want… I’m going to believe in my neighbors’ wanting the world to be safe and sane. And I’m going to keep working to help this Valley become the Valley with no hungry children. This is the Work I believe in.