Fear has driven an unforgivable amount of our lifetime, of my generation. We're not unique in that, for a certainty, since every generation that woke up to 9/11 and went to school in a daze has a predecessor who woke up to some horror and did the same. Or heard Columbine over a radio, as I did. Fear is a sad conceit that we need to remember we all have.
I don't go by my first name Robert often. It comes from two people: a great uncle who died before my time in a sad accident, and a person running for president, shouting against fear, struck down in a moment of hate.
I carry that name, usually quietly, as some sort of weight to remind me that fear, that hate, that whatever negativity may be able to spring forth from us is never far away. That what we see as calm is never quite so simple, and positive notions never bloom without a concerted care for those around us. That we need to actively create love.
What I remembered this weekend after another shooting were some friends in college who were afraid to be open about their life due to geography, or the mood of the room, or just plain history. Due to the perceptions of those around them or the worst worries about what negativity might be lurking. Due to true threat. Not just people of any particular sexuality but also women rightfully worried about the reality around them or just about anyone thrust into any random collection of life factors that takes us away from the rare comfort we may craft. People living in an active yet invisible fear because we tend to quietly accept that rather than promote a level of love that could only benefit us all.
We all carry fear. It's alright to be afraid. That's unavoidable. But don't feel alone.
So hi, I'm Robert, and if you exist I probably love you.