Treading History
By Bridgitte Thao, Minnesota
The darkest days of history begin
not with pestilence and paper-burning
nor with cannibalism and cold wars—
but with little girls leading the cavalry.
Motherless, unsheltered, and weary,
The moon eclipses the sun then.
As curls are shorn and kittens lost,
as callow voices raise martyrs to the sky,
the arc of history bends, retracting
its path of justice into a sallow, sickly
road that we have failed to keep.
How can the darkest days grow darker?
The second stanza of this piece contains two key historical references that better guide the reader. The first line references videos I’ve seen of Palestinian children in Gaza who have been forced to shave their heads because of a lack of sanitary supplies and who have lost their pet cats in the aftermath of bombing. I wrote the third line while keeping in mind the following quote from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.: “We shall overcome because the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.” While Dr. King makes this historical argument that humanity heads towards justice, I fear that many of the historical lessons we’ve sworn never to repeat are again unfolding before our eyes.
A few months ago, at a march for ceasefire, I remember walking alongside a ten-year-old girl. Despite the biting cold and the dreary New England skies, this little girl and her family had gathered in their puffy jackets and snug hats to walk alongside a thousand other protestors for a half-mile march around the downtown area. I had never seen so many people in real life marching through the streets. A simple maneuver like turning the corner took as long as ten minutes.
As the crowd chants began to fizzle out after half an hour of marching, this little girl that I had noticed earlier–unprompted–began leading a chant of her own. A wall of emotions hit me, and I chanted back with the crowd as tears welled in my eyes. I marched on with pure awe: how knowledgeable and compassionate, how brave and intelligent, how incredibly apt of humanity’s struggle she must be. And the sinking realization that our leaders have created a world where a ten-year-old girl must march for peace filled my heart with dread. Yes, I wrote “must.” For what other choice do the masses have? Just as I witnessed the unbreakable spirit of humanity that day, I also felt the worst of it in my bones. In this modern age, with endless abundance and technological advancements, little girls must still lead the charge for social, political, and economic reform? It is apparently not enough that grown adults must disrupt the streets and politicians’ speeches; our system turns a blind eye to every soul, and children must be wrangled into soldiers to combat evil.
Make no mistake: I am endlessly proud of that girl for raising her voice and rallying our spirits. My heart overflows with pride at seeing the younger generation take charge of their futures. However, I am deeply ashamed of our leaders for having ignored calls for peace and justice. Coming from a people so recently in history failed by powerful men, I find myself compelled to put forth this warning for what remains of humanity: when little girls have become soldiers for peace; sole care-takers of broken families; and sole-less, resorting to plastic water-bottles as makeshift shoes, history has entered a dark age. To leave it, we must leave behind the tradition of burdening little girls.
Instagram: @bridgittethao
