An Open Letter To Terrorists

An Open Letter To Terrorists

Where the power of love exists, no evil shall last.

I don't know you. I don't know your name, I don't know your motivations, I don't know your story. I know of some of you, from the various accounts of attacks you execute to further your political agenda--the most recent being the Florida massacre of June 12. I speak to not one of you, but each one of you. To anyone who considers themselves a terrorist, or wishes to indulge in an act of terror. I do not speak to you with hatred, nor with fear. You do not deserve either. I look at you, instead, with pity. You lash out with violent, horrific attacks, while you hide behind a veil of anonymity and rationalize your actions under the guise of religion. You are a coward who seeks to destroy all that is good.

You are the enemy of humanity.

The Florida Massacre marked a horrific day in our history. One of you opened fire on hundreds of our friends, killing 49 and injuring 53 others. I didn't know these people personally, but we are tied through the bonds of humanity. They were people just like us. These individuals were attacked unprovoked, reasons unknown but potentially rooted in hate crime. They worked hard to make a living. They loved, and they were loved. They belonged to families, they had friends, and they cared about this country they lived in. This country, and our world has been changed by their loss.

Who knows what their futures held? One of them could have been a future president, another might have discovered the cure for cancer. Gone with them are their secrets, their knowledge, and their presence. They leave behind so many loved ones whose lives are forever altered with this loss. You didn't know them. They didn't know you. Yet in that moment, you decided to play the role of God, and attempted to strip as many innocent, wonderful souls of the one thing that was theirs: their lives.

You're insidious. You ravage, provoke, and destroy all that you touch. Like a deadly disease, you spread your infection across the globe in the hopes of tearing this world apart. Yet you forget one thing. In moments like this, where the world is being ravaged by a common evil, humanity unites. The world will stand as one, and your pathetic, insubordinate attempts at destruction will end. Good will always triumph evil, and you are the biggest evil in our world to this day.

You claim to follow God, yet no religion espouses the action of slaughtering innocents. There is no Islam in your attacks, no God in your actions, and no morality in your beliefs. In no manner do your acts of terror represent Muslims in any way.

Terrorism has no religion. No culture. No borders. No home.

Acts of violence towards others destroy the part of you that is human, that allows you to empathize and be compassionate. To feel love, to give love, and to appreciate the beautiful life God has gifted you. We are all children of God, so why would he want to pit you against his other sons and daughters? Through peace, understanding, and love, you can serve a cause and not be covered in the blood of the innocent. Through God's grace, nothing is impossible. Yet in pursuing these senseless acts of violence you evidently lose your belief in God and give up on happiness and love.

You may win a few battles, but you have already lost the war. The innocent people you kill lived fulfilling lives surrounded by love, happiness, and compassion. In your attempts to further your agenda and push forward with domination, you constantly burn in your personal hell. The blood you spill sentences you to an afterlife of eternal damnation. In that sense, you have lost before you have even begun.

You hit our cities, but you missed America. Our country is rooted in the idea of freedom, of ideological liberty and cultural growth. You may ravage our bodies, but you will never break our spirit. There will never be a day in this world where we succumb our freedoms to meet your demands.

My heart goes out to the friends and families of those who lost their lives a few days ago in this horrible incident. May God bless those we lost, and heal those who have suffered injuries. America will always stand as a symbol of freedom, democracy, and protection to her citizens and shine as a beacon of hope alongside the other nations in this world.

Where the power of love exists, no evil shall last.

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I Blame My Dad For My High Expectations

Dad, it's all your fault.

I always tell my dad that no matter who I date, he's always my number one guy. Sometimes I say it as more of a routine thing. However, the meaning behind it is all too real. For as long as I can remember my dad has been my one true love, and it's going to be hard to find someone who can top him.

My dad loves me when I am difficult. He knows how to keep the perfect distance on the days when I'm in a mood, how to hold me on the days that are tough, and how to stand by me on the days that are good.

He listens to me rant for hours over people, my days at school, or the episode of 'Grey's Anatomy' I watched that night and never once loses interest.

He picks on me about my hair, outfit, shoes, and everything else after spending hours to get ready only to end by telling me, “You look good." And I know he means it.

He holds the door for me, carries my bags for me, and always buys my food. He goes out of his way to make me smile when he sees that I'm upset. He calls me randomly during the day to see how I'm doing and how my day is going and drops everything to answer the phone when I call.

When it comes to other people, my dad has a heart of gold. He will do anything for anyone, even his worst enemy. He will smile at strangers and compliment people he barely knows. He will strike up a conversation with anyone, even if it means going way out of his way, and he will always put himself last.

My dad also knows when to give tough love. He knows how to make me respect him without having to ask for it or enforce it. He knows how to make me want to be a better person just to make him proud. He has molded me into who I am today without ever pushing me too hard. He knew the exact times I needed to be reminded who I was.

Dad, you have my respect, trust, but most of all my heart. You have impacted my life most of all, and for that, I can never repay you. Without you, I wouldn't know what I to look for when I finally begin to search for who I want to spend the rest of my life with, but it might take some time to find someone who measures up to you.

To my future husband, I'm sorry. You have some huge shoes to fill, and most of all, I hope you can cook.

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Irish-American History Is Just As Important As Any Other Culture, You Can't Prove Me Wrong

I cherish being Irish and I will not let anyone let me feel bad for that.


Depending on when you're reading this, Saint Patrick's day has either just passed or is around the corner. For me, Saint Patrick's day is tomorrow. I've been debating this article for some time now because I didn't know how it would be perceived. At this point, though, I feel it's important for me to get out. No, Irish people were never kept as slaves in America, and I will never be one to try and say they were. However, Irish people were treated tremendously awful in America. A lot of people tend to forget, or just try to erase entirely, the history of the Irish in America. So much so that I felt shameful for wanting to celebrate my heritage. Therefore, I want to bring to light the history that everyone brushes under the rug.

In 1845, a potato famine broke out across Ireland. This was a big deal because the Irish lived off, mainly, potatoes. They were cheap, easy to grow, and had tons of nutrients. So when the famine struck, many people either died of starvation or fled to America in seek of refuge. When the Irish arrived in America they were seen as a threat to the decency of America. People viewed them as drunk beasts, sinful savages, barbaric, violent, belligerent, stupid, and white apes. When the Irish would go to look for jobs, many times they found signs that read "Irish Need Not Apply," even when the job was hiring. Therefore, the Irish did the jobs no one wanted, and even jobs African slaves wouldn't do. The biggest example of this is when Irishmen built canals and drained swamps. They were sent to do these things because of the enormous amount of mosquitoes; in the swamp, they would get bit and ultimately die of malaria.

Also, during this time, Irish people were poor and therefore lived in the same neighborhoods as the free African Americans. A lot of the Irish people were friendly with their neighbors of color and even got into interracial relationships. Because the Irish lived in these neighborhoods they were seen as dirty and even a lot of people at this time put African Americans higher on the totem pole than Irish. One person during the time even said, "At least the black families keep their homes clean."

The main reason American's outlook on Irish people changed was that most Irishmen took up fighting for the Union in the Civil War. I make this argument, not because I think the Irish suffered more than African slaves. I don't say this in means of trying to erase the struggles of the African slaves. I do not think that any of our ancestors should have been treated the way they were. I mean to say that the Irish did in fact suffer. Irish people were treated wrongly on the basis of...nothing. Simply because my ancestors hailed from the shores of Eire, they were treated with malice. And I write this simply because I want people to remember. I want people to understand what happened.

On Saint Patrick's Day this year, next year, and for the many years to come, I want people to embrace the Irish culture. I want the folks of Irish heritage to not be ashamed of where they come from; to not be ashamed to share their culture the way I have for many years. I want everyone to have a beer, wear some green, eat a potato or two, and dance the Irish step; to celebrate the history of Irish people with a bit more understanding than before.

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