Blood on our hands

I am in the middle of a 3 week-run of CRY FOR PEACE: VOICES FROM THE CONGO at Syracuse Stage. I am one of 5 cast members telling my own personal story in the greater context of colonialism and plunder in the Congo. The experience is moving, humbling, and at times overwhelming. Each night, I am telling the story of genocide in the Congo. Each night, I say the line: "They made her beat the baby to death." It is no small wonder that I find myself zoning in front of an inane comedy almost every night after the show. Ironic that this post is my way back to this blog more than a year after writing about the pervasiveness of technology in my life. Electronics rule my world. But today, each time I use my phone, my computer, iPod or iPad, I think about the blood that was poured in order for me to be able to play Words with Friends or to send texts to my friends. Eleven years ago almost to the day, we lost 3,000 people in the attacks on the World Trade Center. 3,000 lives that were lost. More than a decade later, our hearts are still heavy with the loss. I cannot help but think about the death toll in East Congo which is staggering.Every TWO days, 3,000 lives are taken brutally the region as a result of the precious minerals we all need and want. That is 45,0000 lives a month. Difficult to comprehend. Almost paralyzing to think about the magnitude of these numbers. And yet, I can't afford to become paralyzed. I can no longer turn off the news and breathe a sigh of relief that my life is untouched by the atrocious events in ....(fill in the blank here with the words Syria, Eastern Congo, Libya, etc....) Tonight, as I say the words: "They made her beat the baby to death." I pray that someone in the audience will also feel motivated to create change and save lives in the Congo.