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It was almost over. Bridget only needed to get a little bit further to complete the level. She focused on the TV mounted high on the wall, determined to win. “Bridget!” her mum called. Bridget ignored the voice. A few seconds passed and Bridget heard her mum call again. Bridget couldn’t afford to respond, though. She was so close…. just one more ledge and … there! The game quickly celebrated her success before moving to the next level. This one looked a bit trickier. Bridget tapped the controls. Her mum’s footsteps sounded behind her. “Bridget McCarthy. Can you hear me?” “Uh huh,” Bridget said, still playing. “I’ve already asked you to put your breakfast dishes away today; can you please go do that?” Bridget didn’t really feel like answering. She knew it wasn’t really a question. She decided to stay quiet and continued playing. “Sweetie, I need you to go put your dishes away,” her mum said. “No,” Bridget said.

The German public was fed false assurance that their concentration camps were clean facilities with recreational activities. Our border detainment centers are supposedly “clean and well managed.” Don’t look away. Detainees kept in purposely freezing temperatures, forced to wear soiled clothing for weeks. Inadequate medical care, basic sanitation, food, and water. No soap, no toothbrushes, no bed. Women told to drink out of toilets while being verbally abused by officers. Border patrol agents joke online about migrant death as immigrants die from the flu. “They’re just doing their job.” “The Nazis were just doing their job.” Don’t look away. Anne Frank wasn’t murdered at a death camp. She died of typhus, a result of overcrowded camps with poor sanitation. There are 24 reported deaths from our detainment centers including teenagers, toddlers, and infants. Illegal immigration does not excuse abuse and dehumanization. Don’t look away. American citizens racially

I once knew a man Working toward his PhD in theoretical physics. In his spare time, he enjoyed listening to music, Watching television, And sketching famous sculptures in his notebook; Yet it was beyond him why I would pursue a degree in the arts. I once told him That I was with my friend for a Hanukkah celebration. “What’s Hanukkah?” he asked. I thought he was joking. He was not. On another occasion I was carrying a book. He asked what it was and I replied, “John Keats.” He and his friends, science grad students, Had no clue who that was. And one time we fought Over civil rights. He responded, “It doesn’t affect me, So why I should care about it?” Now if he’d ever read Number the Stars Or heard Ode to a Nightingale Or seen a performance of The Laramie Project He may not have asked those questions. But what do the arts matter, Compared with something like science, Which saves people’s lives? If he knew the impact of George Orwell, Whose cautionary tales we teach to our

The ocean was a dangerous place, especially for a woman. It was not the waters that appeared perilous. Rather, the threat stemmed from the men’s fear and distrust towards her presence. By some miracle, Meredith remained onboard after being discovered as a stowaway in stolen men’s clothing and hair chopped short. The sailors so far seemed to lack enough effort to care so long as she put herself to work. Still, she caught a few wary glances shot in her direction. As Meredith scrubbed the deck, she could see the sky darkening. Thick clouds drifted closer overhead leaving no space for the sun to peek through. The ship’s rocking grew steadily more violent. Meredith found herself struggling to keep in place while sailors rushed about her in a vain attempt to master the ocean’s wrath. As she scrubbed with increasing intensity, one sailor tripped over her. “Get off the deck. You’re in the way,” he growled. Meredith gladly scooped up her utensils and hurried below deck to safety. The ship