bleed, baby, bleed.

thanks, heart. i knew you hadn't abandoned me.

friday was our first community day. if i haven't explained this before, what that means is that i get a day off work to hang out with my five roommates and the ladies that live in el paso, either just to chill and be together, but more likely to learn about something relating to our positions, or just being on the border. this month we decided to go to the national border patrol museum in el paso.

although the museum itself isn't funded by or related to the gov't at all, they seem to have a good relationship to this branch of homeland security. two officers gave us a presentation on what the border patrol does, what their goals are, and how to become a border patrol member (turns out, this is pretty rigorous. widely considered the toughest law enforcement/paramilitary station).

[for the record, i spent much of friday saying, "i just don't understand how you can think that!?!" which is unfair. i will attempt not to say that here, or anywhere else in the future. your opinions are your own. i struggle to reconcile many conservative policies with my own morals, but it is my struggle and not yours.]

at the start of the presentation, the officer asked, "who's here to pick a fight?"

becca pointed at me.

at first i was mad, but i guess i can't blame her. that's kind of been my role thusfar in the bsc. to get outraged. to rant. to cry over the women who can't get vawa visas b/c they haven't actually married their abusive partners.

and, i did want to pick a fight w/ him. i want to pick a fight with the world. not b/c he was a bad guy. to the contrary, he seemed really nice. he seemed like he cared about his job in a human way. he claimed he was more concerned about keeping people safe than "keeping the mexicans out" and i wanted to believe him, even if i wasn't completely sold. maybe he just needed a good job, and that one offered $60G a year and health benefits (no, that's not a typo). maybe he really believes this is what it will take to keep america safe.

i do want a safe america. for all my revolutionary tendencies and che-fangirl giggles, safety is very important to me. i wish i could travel and not wonder if it would be better to pretend to be canadian in this airport. i wish i could put a flag on my lapel in good consciousness. but when a man stands in front of me with an american flag on his shoulder and a gun at his hip and says he's being proactive about the things that threaten this country, i wonder if he ever thought about what happened before 9/11. it pains me to be a part of a country so proud and so certain that it doesn't pause to wonder why people might want to blow up a piece of us. we are a country so holier-than-thou that it takes 3,000 dead civilians for even some of the most open-minded and considerate pieces of the population to consider the way people worldwide might consider us.

i am trying, perhaps too hard, to be calm in this post. i am angry. i am terrified. i am indignant. but i cannot fix the world. and that makes me the saddest of all.

EDIT: ps. wtf, economy?