Member-only story
My Hometown
Every bombed village is my hometown.
And every dead child is my child.
Every grieving mother is my mother.
Every crying father is my father.
Every home turned to rubble
is the home I grew up in.
Every brother carrying the remains
of his brother across borders
is my brother.
Every sister waiting for a sister
who will never come home
is my sister.
Every one of these people are ours,
Just like we are theirs.
We belong to them
and they belong to us.
— James Baldwin
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…our best efforts for civil rights, international peace, population control, conservation of natural resources, and assistance to the starving of the earth — urgent as they are — will destroy rather than help if made in the [current] spirit. For, as things stand, we have nothing to give…
…peace can be made only by those who are peaceful, and love can be shown only by those who love. No work of love will flourish out of guilt, fear, or hollowness of heart, just as no valid plans for the future can be made by…
