When I consider this gruesome slaughter from my vantage point over here in the U.S. of A., I also think about how we and Mexico are so tied together: with ropes of drug hunger and greed; the binding, corporation-friendly provisions of NAFTA which has deprived so many Mexicans of their livelihood and presented them instead with the options of wage slavery, the drug trade, and/or emigration; the sacrifice of citizens to advance profitable agendas (oil wars, 9/11, drone strikes, Guantanemo, and now Iguala); the US banks that have taken their cut of Mexican drug money; the rooftop-screaming corruption that has rich folk with vested interests in that which is regulated, 'serving' in positions of governmental 'oversight'. I can go on and on.
This border we share is not just geographical, we are not just north-south neighbors. Though I'm sitting here reading about this tragedy eating a chocolate yoghurt, and the street outside is calm as pine needles on soil, this Mexican violence shares roots with our own. They interact and feed each other. The fight for justice here is the fight for justice there.
I am sick for Mexico, and for us, the U.S. I see it as a call to action, but frankly, I am scared that if I speak out, I might someday share the fate of those students.
Though really, since they died on behalf of their principles and their service, they are heros and should be celebrated as such. It is grimly ironic that their trash-fueled funeral pyre has shined a light on a very dark place, and this may lead to change for the better, as it did in the Civil Rights Era here. Let us hope, and pray--and love, and fight.
