born an addict

For the first time since my return to Beijing, I’ve a hankerin’ to write here.
Sadly, It’s due to bad news: the shooting at the American Civic Association in New York.
I wanted to say that my heart has been broken in a way that only America can break it. There is something very drug-like about the USA. We are a nation of addicts, pursuing that higher high, denying any descent or self-destruction, free enough to become lazy and criminal in our pursuit of the next feel-good fix. Me and my high, at any price. We become obsessed and blur any sense of the responsibililty or cost of obtaining or maintaining that good feeling. The highs are the world’s best, and the lows are equally extreme. The downs make addicts mad and crack the stonehearted. The downs kill.
Like this most recent shooting in New York.
I think of the volunteer work I did in Atlanta, at a Civics Center for Asians. At that center, legal Asian immigrants could attend various classes about living life in America. Classes included health, homemaking, and the terrible civics English class that I taught.
I think about the staff and volunteers, but especially about the hard-working students at the center and their strong will and dedication to improve themselves for the good of their families. I remember seeing no exception to that. They were hard working, kind people from all over Asia just trying to improve their lot, pursuing the American dream.
And it breaks my heart to think of those people getting gunned down by some ignorant bastard. A guy who had just enough smarts to purchase a gun, load it, point and shoot.
Such a deeply personal attack on my sense of decency and humanity. It reminds me of my life as an addict, because only the USA can break my heart this badly.