Today, I called the dermatologist and got the intro message that says, “if this is a medical emergency, please hang up and dial 911.”
And I thought, wouldn’t that be nice? If it was that simple? But what would I say if I called?
911, What’s your emergency?
My emergency is thousands of Afghan women being shoved in a closet.
My emergency is men hanging off of an evacuation plane in desperation because dying falling off a plane is better than living under the thumb of terrorists.
My emergency is crumbling buildings and hopes in Haiti.
My emergency is no fuel or water in Lebanon.
My emergency is my government that refuses to learn from its mistakes and continues to leave human bodies drowning in its wake.
My emergency is old white men whose only goal is to tear everyone and everything down if it doesn’t suit them because they are rich enough to survive any crisis of their own making.
My emergency is my 5 year old nephew starting kindergarten and the knowledge that love alone is not enough to keep he and his cousins safe from the darkness.
My emergency is children starving and black mothers dying in childbirth in the richest country on the planet.
My emergency is a distorted, angry Jesus used as a weapon by evangelicals.
My emergency is my fellow citizens, directing our energy towards hating each other instead of tearing down the systems that are breaking us.
My emergency is rising oceans.
My emergency is a global pandemic.
My emergency is one of a million preventable deaths.
“Ms. Frazer, are you there?”
“Ah, yes, can I schedule an appointment with the dermatologist? My hair is falling out in patches.”