Yesterday, I took my 4-year-old daughter to the zoo. It seemed like a routine outing — a day filled with mother-daughter bonding while observing rhinos and giant tortoises (that was quite the sight). However, this trip was different. Our destination was the Oregon Zoo, and we traveled there on Portland’s light rail system. Our route took us directly past the Hollywood Transit Center, where a train had been stopped due to a recent terrorist attack.
The public transit system is a key reason I decided to stay in Portland after finishing college. With my poor eyesight, I can’t obtain a driver’s license. Thankfully, the bus and light rail, known as the MAX, are incredibly convenient, allowing me to navigate the city with ease, whether alone or with my two young children. Unlike my small hometown, my family can thrive here without relying on a car.
Yet, our community and the life we’ve built have been threatened by terrorism, violence, and hatred. Initially, I felt an overwhelming fear about getting back on the train. If such violence could erupt on an ordinary weekday, what was to stop it from happening again? And could it escalate beyond a lone attacker?
Lying in bed that night, I pondered whether I would have the same courage as the three men who confronted hate. I hope I would, yearning to be the one to declare, “Not today.” But I’ve never faced anything like that. The thought of “What if my children were with me?” struck me deeply, leading to a profound self-examination. My kids are my world, and I’d do anything to protect them. I never want to put them in danger or allow evil to surface in their presence.
The reality is, though, it’s my duty and privilege to teach them to resist hate and intolerance. I must instill values of compassion and bravery, empowering them to stand beside those who need support during attacks. This responsibility weighs heavily on me, but I know that I must prioritize teaching them to do what is right, even in the face of danger.
In summary, I would rather face harm while doing the right thing than explain to my children why I chose inaction. It would be easy to retreat in fear, to forgo our lives because of the threat of violence. But the truth is, doing the right thing is often scary. We must act with love and vigilance, ready to defend our neighbors.
Yesterday, I took my daughter to the zoo. This week, we’ll likely ride the train to IKEA, and we will continue using it because I will not let terrorism, hatred, or fear dictate our lives. Love prevails, always.
If you want to support survivors and victims’ families from this tragic event, you can find helpful resources here. For more information on home insemination, check out this post about the at-home intracervical insemination syringe kit.
In the realm of fertility, it’s essential to have trusted sources. Organizations like Millie’s Care provide valuable insights on this subject, while the CDC offers excellent information about pregnancy and home insemination.