In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Helpless.”
I feel helpless every single day I am not in my dream job (teaching) because it means that I cannot help my parents or give students at least one person that believes in them and their dreams. My parents often do not have enough to treat themselves to items even though they say they do. The truth is they do buy the items that they want, but at expense of paying their bill later on in the month. I want them to be at a point where they can buy something they want and not think about bills that are always due too often. When I have a job I will be able to buy them the luxury they want and pamper them all the time.
I feel helpless when I go to school and I am startled of how much I learn that isn’t my history or in general the full story. Dan Brown once said that history is the story of the winners. Just look at the words,his-story. There is no their story, our story, true story, or full story. I guess thats why we celebrate thanksgiving, To give thanks to the food we had back then and ignore the fact that it was stolen from Native Americans.
I feel helpless whenever I hear of an area that does not have clean water. Water is a need for survival. It is not a privilege, it is a right. Why are people who cannot afford living forced to pay for survival.
I feel helpless when I look at my neighborhood and wonder how different it may all be if we experiences teachers who care and believe in every single student, treat our parents with nothing but kindness, tell the full story, and appreciate having resources that we need for survival.
I feel helpless when I look at myself and realize that I am still not the person I am supposed to be.