Would you be willing to take a bullet for another, like someone you love how about even more challenging, a stranger?
I can't say that I have. What I can admit is that I did step in between a gun and a Rohingya mother and her child. I learned very quick that he wanted to take the child from her to sell. Ballsy you would call it, I do to in retrospect. But it was truly an out of body experience for me. The moment I stepped in to intervene and heard the gun cocked so many thoughts, names and faces flashed in my mind with the thoughts "I hope they know I love them" and please forgive me. Instinctually I wanted to stop the man and save them forgetting my own fear. After all said and done I surely walked back in silence to base not speaking to or making eye contact with anyone, threw up, and curled up in a ball teary-eyed in recollection as I am now writing this.
What saved me? A simple piece of ID that unfortunately is something the Rohingya refugees have been seeking for for a very long time, causing them to flee. Am I scared for life? Yes I will definitely carry this event memory with me. Do I regret it? Absolutely not.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain alienable rights, among these life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, unless you’re viewed asa foreigner, refugee, alien and possess an opinion, then all you get is a bullet, a bullet that held me at bay, a bullet that can puncture my skin, take all my dreams away, a bullet that can silence the words that i speak to my mother just because I’m other, a bullet…held me captive.
Gun in my face, your hate misplaced. White skin, light skin, but for me, not the right skin. Judging me with no crime committed. Reckless trigger finger itching to prove your worth by disproving mine, my life in your hands, my life on the line. Spared by a piece of paper, an ID that you had to see before you could identify me and set me supposedly free.
Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
For some of us, maybe. There’s nothing self-evident about it.