Just a little boy.
A poor, defenseless baby, washed up dead, his corpse being plastered all over the interent.
Dead, trying to avoid certain death.
But he is not the only one. An unimaginable amount of Syrian fleeing their country, and countless countries refusing them entry.
Who are we to refuse them entry? Who are we to ignore a people crying out for help?
Syrians aren't parasites, trying to feed off us. They mean no harm.
They're people. They're humans. Like you and I.
So who are we to condemn them to a tragic death? Who are we, mere humans, to be able to play god in these humans lives, forcing them to stay in a war ridden land?
Who were we to allow Syrians to become so afraid, so desperate, that small kids are washing up on our selfish shores?
We are condemning thousands of kids just like them to their deaths every day.
What in the world makes us think that this is ok? Why are we so privileged?
Why are they not treated like people?
An organisation set up by Jim Breen, where thousands of people cycle through Ireland every year, to break the cycle of suicide. Cleverly placed pun. Today, the lovely Mr Breen came to my school and talked to all seven hundred plus of us. In the back, wearing a disgustingly bright orange shirt in support (and feeling decidedly Dutch), I was struggling not to cry. Not that he was being morbid. He didn't delve into details of his depression, or any gruesome details of suicide. He spoke in such a way that was amazing. He spoke to us in a way that reached all levels of understanding in relation to mental health. He was able to educate those who have never experienced a mental monster, without boring them, or frightening them off the topic. Though, even with such sensitivity, he was able to touch those who had suffered mental illness. It was like a little nod to us. We knew we were understood, that he understood. For me, that is always extremely emotional. For someone to understa...
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