I watched a video of a man in Aleppo, Syria, last night. This is not the first video of a man in Aleppo that I’ve watched, nor do I believe it will be the last. I realized, though, that if I thought I felt hopeless, I actually had no clue. For now, I'm in relative safety in America. Bombs aren’t raining down around me. I can worry about things that aren’t survival. I can dream about peace, and still naively believe that there’s a possibility. It’s true that my belief in peace is still a possibility, but I do not have to live in this kind of horror. From what I can see, living in this kind of horror doesn’t allow for a pseudo-belief in peace. And so, I went to sleep in a warm, safe, silent bed. And I cried.

They say that Russia’s airstrikes in Syria are done under the disguise of justice. Perhaps, if we concentrate hard enough, we can believe that there is nothing else that can be done, and that the ends, somehow, justify the means. Perhaps we can ignore the daily cries of people we cannot physically hear just enough to convince ourselves that what is happening is okay. But, in our hearts, minds, and especially our souls, we know that it is not. There is something so fundamentally flawed in the idea that, somehow, billions of dollars spent on bombs and bullets means billions of dollars spent in order to promote peace.

As an American, I’ve seen other Americans disagree themselves with what is happening in Syria. That, while the Islamic State is a horrendous organization (of which we can be sure), somehow the deaths and trauma of the innocent don’t make this missive as it presently stands exactly worth the while. And, as an American, I’ve seen other people of other nationalities, but also fellow Americans, saying perhaps we don’t have a voice in this matter right now. That what America did in Iraq, Iran, and Afghanistan, among others, does not allow us to cast stones on other countries and pass judgment for the similar sins of others. It’s true that America made a tremendous and disgusting error, to put the atrocities at their most mild. It’s also true that America historically has tried too hard to play God when it comes to the affairs of others. Somewhere along the way, though, we have to learn from our mistakes as humans, and somehow we have to find other ways of trying to justify what is essentially the genocide of an innocent people besides saying “America did it once, therefore they cannot judge us if we do the same.” We must have the courage to admit that something wrong is happening, even if we have perpetrated similar wrongs in the past. We must own up to what we’ve done and we must protect those at risk of being victimized by similar actions. Somehow, we have to repent for what we’ve done.

I am not a religious person. But, I walk each step with an ability to feel love, kindness, courage, and humanity, granted to me from the universe somewhere, whether it be from God or otherwise. I walk every step with the knowledge that I will always do whatever I can in order to protect those who need it. I know that I will always have the courage to stand up and I will never falter in the face of opposition. If I believe that something happening is wrong, I will say so, and I hope I’m not alone in this.

I watched a video of a man in Aleppo, Syria, last night, and while I cried, I knew I could not stay silent. What is happening is wrong. I will repeat this until it’s done, if it’s ever done.