Marching to a Different Drummer
Yesterday, I drove up the Granville Street hill and passed the public protest against China and in support of Tibet.
Maybe one day I will be proven wrong and all these protests will turn the tide.
Maybe if people had marched with placards in 1943, fewer Jews would have been murdered in camps in Europe.
Maybe the marching is the important thing and the result is secondary.
But in my heart, I don't believe any of this.
I think it is easy to yell and scream and wear a cardboard sign around your neck about conditions many thousands of miles away. I think it is stupid to go to a foreign sovereign state and hang banners from beloved monuments.
I think it is far braver and more to the point to work diligently at small, local problems in our own back yard.