Tuesday a 7.0 magnitude earthquake rocked the small country of Haiti, devastating its people. I can not shake a feeling of deja vu as I monitor each incoming news story, and see bloody black faces. I grasp desperately at hope, little pieces of news explaining that this event is not as apologetic as it appears. Unfortunately, each day that passes, the verdict on this small island country grows grimmer and grimmer.
Haiti was an experiment. The first and only black democracy in the Western Hemisphere, Haiti struggled through a gauntlet of political instability, oppression, imperialism, genocide and poverty. Yet the small country has struggled on, and has become an example of the resilience of the third-world, and their fierce desire the shed the shackles the first-world puts on them.
And now, in the biggest act of overkill since the bombing of Hiroshima, an earthquake has ripped the poor country almost in two, and has buried its people literally and figuratively in the democracy they fought so hard to achieve.
I am not a religious man. But as I realize how increasing insignificant I truly am to this crisis, and how little I could do (my ten dollars I donated to UNICEF is like a pebble in the Mississippi) I have to rely on my prayers. I pray for Haiti, and I hope to God or Allah, or Buddha, or the great fucking hunter in the sky that we save this country from imploding on itself.
Donate to the Red Cross directly by texting "Haiti" to 90999, also check out the whitehouse website for more information on how to help.