There Beneath
The months following the beginning of the war were filled with the act of numbly continuing our lives. For me, this normal continuation included attending school. Paying attention to lessons and conversations that, to me at the time, seemed to be the most meaningless things in my life.
I’ve tried to theorize what exactly made attendance so hard. I attribute it to the fact that the majority of peers (the majority, not all) remained ignorant of the circumstances overseas. It was as if nothing had occurred, as if people our age weren’t dying at the same time we were complaining about assignments and relationships.
I understood that the majority of people in the world didn’t care what was occurring in others’ lives (personal complications usually get in the way of such thought). Still, despite all the confidence I had in what I thought would be their reactions (or rather, lack thereof), I was left with a bitter taste when the time came to face them.
I don’t particularly like thinking about what the months following my return to school held for my mindset. It was beyond draining or mentally taxing. It crushed every little hope I had. I now know that this was one of the first instances where I began to see the apathy engrained in my setting, and perhaps one of the worst things was that I had been a part of it.
It hurt beyond words, but it also allowed me to empathize with those I could never before.
Yet, it seemed that even in moments where I could find myself engaging in the normalcy of life, the truth that the war was raging shook me back into focus. Trying to continue our lives only existed as a distraction.
During one of my lessons, a faculty member delivered me a Manila folder with my name on it. I was just as surprised as I was confused; never had I had something personally delivered to me at school.
I opened it in class and was met with various notes and papers.
Our favorite grocery store - “Silpo” - generates some of the most incoming traffic in the area. They graciously welcomed the cards and notes onto their “art line”. They’ve told us that every day, they get at least ten people thanking them for the “exhibit”!
Upon further notice, I realized that the folder contained numerous notes and drawings from children, all drawn and written in support of Ukraine. A card also came with the drawings detailing who this was from: Fathers Harbour Academy, a private school in Florida.
The drawings and words enlisted a feeling of deep admiration for the adult who organized this, the children who took part to support, and the general adherence to prayer for the people involved in the war.
During tumultuous times, the question shouldn’t be whether one should continue living or not. Rather, it should be whether one continues living with lukewarm ignorance or with recognition of the corruption in the world and hope to triumph over it.
Thank you to Jennifer Casey and Father’s Harbor Academy students. Your thoughts and prayers are treasured every day <3
Click to enlarge photos!
