I shared a version of this in my weekly tech newsletter yesterday:
Many of you are new to this newsletter--especially those who came out to our event last Thursday. It's mostly about tech, but sometimes it isn't. When it isn't, it's honest and hopefully thought provoking. You're welcome to stick around and I hope that you do.
It is difficult to write on mornings like this.
On one hand, I know you're all New Yorkers and you're fine. Even if you lived on that block in Chelsea, you're going to work today, walking past police tape and glass. You're always fine, New York, even when you're not. They cannot stop us.
But things aren't fine--not because we're under the threat of terrorism, but because we're consumed by fear.
Did you watch the media over the weekend? And Twitter?
In times this this, I cannot help but think of the speech from V from Vendetta:
"...And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, think, and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well, certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now High Chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent."
I debated long enough over this e-mail to get the notification of a suspect this morning. All we needed was that name to put gas on the fire.
No one noticed that a Christopher was arrested last weekend in Staten Island with 20 guns in his apartment, loaded with armor piercing bullets.
No TV news stories. No public calls for better mental health services.
But arrest an Ahmad and we're ready to turn the country over to an egomaniac playing our worst fears like a violin--a man who has no respect for the freedoms of speech, of religion and the openness and diversity that made this country great.
I only know about Christopher because he is my cousin.
Somewhere, Ahmad has a cousin, too. A cousin who loves this country and can't figure out how someone he knew fell down such a deep, dark hole. Ahmad maybe also has a grandmother, too--who also had to find out about all this in the newspaper, like mine did. She reads the paper everyday at 98 years young and I can't even imagine how she felt.
Soon, the hounds will tear into Ahmad's family. We'll know where he went to school, who his friends are, where he lives. His family will receive death threats and racist insults.
And Christopher's family--how close we came to all that, yet not at all. No one cares who we are or what we believe--because we're white and we weren't born into a US funded civil war. We were all born here, so of course, we can't be the enemy.
Whatever darkness Ahmad's family tried to escape in Afghanistan caught up with them.
I feel sorry for them--and feel even worse for us because of the darkness we'll turn to as the fear consumes us.