Dinosaurs, bomb bracelets, and safety pins
Today’s post is brought to you by dinosaurs, bomb bracelets, and safety pins.
If these things sound random to you, that’s only because you didn’t spend three hours at a coffee shop with Rarasaur and me this morning.
We talked about boys and boundaries and love and truth and safety and privilege. I explained how politics have been difficult for me recently, especially because the things that alarm me now are ones that existed long before I noticed them. I’ve been so frustrated with myself for having not seen, despite how I pride myself on being a truth-seeker and -seer.
In conversation with Ra, it seemed silly that I should be frustrated with myself. All things in their own time.
She gave me a bracelet made from old bombs because she knows I appreciate beautiful things that are made from horrible ones.
And then, talking more about safety, I said I wished I had a way to communicate that I want and strive to be safe for others. Sometimes it’s hard because of how much time I spent unsafe, so that I find threats everywhere and “bring guns to knife fights” (as my husband says), but it’s what I want to be: safe. I believe people shine brightest when they are safe enough to cast their lights far and wide, instead of trying to dim them in order to avoid dangerous attention.
Ra told me about people in the U.K. wearing safety pins post-Brexit vote to show solidarity with immigrants. She relayed a story about how those safety pins helped a U.K. friend.
I said maybe that’s what I’d do to shine a little light: wear a safety pin, even if only 1 out of 1,000 people who sees it knows what it means.
As I type this post, a safety pin jangles on a bracelet made from old bombs,
and a six-year-old laughs from his perch on Ra’s lap,
and I think, how sweet it would be if everyone,
everywhere could know this safe.