A Twelve Year Old’s Perspective

Photo by Ian Schneider

“My 12 year old daughter wrote a monologue for her drama exam. She is in a portal in the mythical land called Chana, where the gods of the world are trying to take over her mind. I’m posting this monologue for its very fitting in this age and time.

Dear Gods of Chana,

I don’t understand. Why are you doing this? Why am I such a threat? Why are all these people trapped here threats to you? All we believe in is love. We have felt the power within us move and connect us to a universal force that is peaceful, not competitive and judgmental. How can you be afraid of this? You have created a land of war; where children are dulled down to conform to buying things, to listening to what corrupt officials tell them to believe, to work for elites who only get rich off our labors, who hate each other, judge and seek to destroy.

This power offers freedom. This power offers a way for all of us to get along, where everyone can connect to their highest potentials and make this world beautiful.

You are nothing but greed and malice. You want us to become you. You want us to not think. Not feel. I know what you are doing. You want us to obey, to work for you, to adore you, to be afraid, which goes against everything inside of us. You are selfish. You want us to be walking dead, where anything that makes us special is dead within us, so we can make you rich.

I will fight this. I can feel how you are making my mind tell me things to do; to make me believe that my mind and what I see in front of me is real. But you cannot destroy what my heart has felt, that power within me is the only real thing. And I will remain connected to it no matter how hard you try to beat it out of me. It will survive even if that means you have to kill me.

I can feel it. Whatever you’ve put in here, in this portal, is making me angry, making me think things, like that you are an enemy, that the other people in here with me are my foes. But I want you to know that I remember when I was told the secret. I remember my mother’s eyes, pale like the sky on a mid winter’s day and full of warmth. My mother, with warm hands, told me to close my eyes. She placed a finger on my forehead and suddenly my mind was still and I felt that force that moves from my heart up to a God much higher than you.

You cannot take that away from me, you have no right. I just want to make this world better. This secret should be no threat to you. Everyday I see people so unhappy and so consumed by their mind.

But I’m sorry for you because even if you kill me, you can never destroy this power. It will only grow and spread and one day chill the coals of destruction.

Char Marron”