Dating : Why I Wept Uncontrollably Today

I wept uncontrollably.

I had to get up from my desk, leave our apartment, and go for a walk. I didn’t want my daughter to see me crying and worry that something terrible had happened (although, one of her life goals is to see me cry, so maybe she would have been fine with it…)

I’m not American, but I have found a home here and I’m so grateful for the opportunities I’ve had — which I couldn’t have dreamed of as a kid growing up in the middle of a civil war in Sri Lanka.

I wept watching this video because it reminded of the feelings I’ve been pushing down for the past few years, feelings of no longer being welcome here, and feelings of my adopted home being ripped away from me.

Things were never perfect in America, but having grown up in Asia, and lived in Africa and Europe, this place used to be as good as any place could be — at least for me.

I grew up in Sri Lanka in the 1970s and 80s, in the midst of a civil war between the Sinhala and Tamil communities. I didn’t belong to either side because I had a Tamil dad and a Sinhala mom, so in the South of the country, I had the wrong last name, and in the North of the country, I spoke the wrong language.

In 1983, civil riots broke out across the country, including in Colombo where my family lived. Civilian mobs of Sinhala people roamed the streets beating up Tamil people, and in some cases, burning them alive. It was brutal. A decade of civil conflict, and people in positions of power and influence spewing hate daily finally took its toll. A plane filled with the bodies of Sinhala soldiers who were killed in combat being brought home to Colombo provided the spark.

Our house became a temporary shelter, where Tamil friends and relatives sought refuge to escape the murderous mobs, and Sinhala friends and relatives did everything they could to keep everyone safe. I vaguely remember one of my parents’ Sinhala friends going out into the chaos of the streets, with his helmet and a wig. Later I found out that he went to rescue a Tamil uncle who was trapped in his house. The wig was meant to disguise my uncle as the wife of the Sinhala motorcycle rider. My uncle made it out alive that day, but so many others didn’t.

When we’re surrounded by hate, it’s easy to forget that there is no monolithic “them”. But there is no “them”, there is just us.

I can’t vote in the US, and to me, this video is not a political statement. Rather, it is a deep seated wish for this country, and this society, to overcome the hate that surrounds us and find our way to love.

#whereisthelove