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  • Kerry D. Krauss

Unrest

I struggled to fall asleep last night. This is unusual given the meds I take. Usually, I go to bed, read for 30 minutes, roll over, and drift effortlessly to sleep. Last night, I struggled to fall asleep, struggled to stay asleep, struggled to find restful sleep.

My soul was troubled.

Locally, we learned yesterday that Katie had died. In fact, she was murdered. I knew Katie. I had interacted with her dozens of times at the Y, at the Pig. She always had a quick joke. She was loved. She had family. She had a place in our community. I don’t know what happened. I don’t need to know. Her death, her murder, troubles me.

On Monday, we learned that Jacob Blake had been shot…seven times. I didn’t know Jacob. He is loved. He has family. He has a place in his community. I don’t know what happened. I don’t need to know. His attempted murder troubles me.

This morning, we learned that a 26-year-old and a 36-year-old had died in Kenosha. In fact, they were murdered. I don’t even know their names. They were loved. They had family. They had a place in their communities. I don’t know what happened. I don’t need to know. Their deaths, their murders, trouble me.

They cause me unrest.

These five people seem like different sides of the same coin—or even different circumstances altogether. We want to split hairs and blur lines. We want shade each instance, massage each case to suit our notions of just and unjust, reconcilable and irreconcilable, fair and unfair, right and wrong. They are all equally unjust, irreconcilable, unfair, and wrong. Period.

To the families that hurt, I love you.

To the communities that band together, I need you.

To the human family, I hope for you.

Please be safe.

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