Then again...
There is this moment when the thing we fear becomes like an animal in a cage. We feed it, give it treats, reach into to steal a stroke, tease it, name it, watch it pace in front of the bars. We get comfortable with it and begin to lose the tightness in our belly. We begin to believe our feelings were not justified, that we were just being silly. We begin to make friends with that animal in the cage and we decide to let it out, to see if it has suddenly become civilized. Inevitably, it has not and then comes the bloody, broken mess on the floor that we have to clean up even as we know we created the mess and we don't want to see that thing we've let loose. And we have to put it back in the cage, the struggle ensues, and we are irrevocably scarred by the experience only to begin the process again. Lately I seem to be reading, talking, thinking, talking, watching, talking about inclusion and diversity. As if one of those things is somehow more valuable than the other, as