In the matter of children—I didn't want to inflict on mine the kinds of expectations children of my generation unfailingly got from our own parents: you will be a doctor, you will be a nurse, you will be a lawyer or else; you will enter the nunnery …  | Luisa A. Igloria March 6 | In the matter of children—I didn't want to inflict on mine the kinds of expectations children of my generation unfailingly got from our own parents: you will be a doctor, you will be a nurse, you will be a lawyer or else; you will enter the nunnery or become a priest so there will be someone who can plead our case in the afterlife. At least one of mine says she doesn't want to have any children, given the state of the world. Which is to say, the decimation of human and nonhuman life, the terrible cruelties and hatreds that daily fly through the air— landing as spit on the dusky cheek of a woman on a train, falling as a rain of bombs on the defenceless sleeping in refugee camps. A grandfather kicked in the shins, a woman thrown to the ground in the street—hate and harm, harm and hate, their letters almost interchangeable. A poet told of traveling through the nearly impossible dark where a deer lay rigid on a mountain road, the unborn fawn still warm inside her. Why is the end of suffering promised as a heaven no one can see, but that many seem so certain of? | | | |
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