Baltimore

Last night, Scott and I were glued to the television as we watched the nonstop coverage of the Baltimore riots. Despite the constant stream of images and reports, I still can't fathom the destruction that unfolded. We are 90 minutes from Baltimore, yet it feels deeply personal. I used to live in that city and still have friends who reside there.  Between doctor visits and the aquarium, we visit several times a year and have always felt comfortable. The scenes we saw on television last night were heartbreaking.

I realize I'm jumping on the "what's wrong with people" bandwagon, but I don't understand looting and random destruction. If the purpose of the protesters is to gain media attention, I suppose that they are successful. However, if they are hoping to create a dialog about police brutality, their talking points are muted by the violence.  Perhaps I am showing my age, but protesting police brutality by performing random acts of violence feels wholly illogical.  Logic, of course, is of no consequence when a group mentality is at play.  

I felt scared for everybody who lives and works in Baltimore. I can't imagine the terror felt by the residents and business owners last night as they faced the reality that they could be victimized at any moment. This is becoming a crazy world, and it makes me fearful for my boys.

While I'm confident that we are protected from this protest by geography, I worry about the future. I hope that my boys will have enough common sense and self-worth to avoid putting themselves in the situations I saw playing out last night. It is hard to go against a crowd, and I can only hope that they are being raised so that they have the ability to walk away instead of participating.  Moments like this I want to keep them little forever.