I have become a devotee of Twitter ever since the Tahrir Square uprisings in Cairo. I followed these heroes as they steadfastly refused to allow an autocratic ruler to remain in power. I marveled at their tenacity, their bravery, their love for their homeland. As a result, I now am following the additional protests in Libya, Iran, Yemen, and the others. It is inspiring, yet frightening.
I look to Wisconsin, to Ohio where union rights are being challenged. I look to Texas and many other states where a woman's right to choose is being more and more restricted. I look to the Congress where the President's attempt to scrap the DOMA is, naturally, being vigorously challenged by the right. I look to so many states where funding for those less privileged are being cut to the bone.
It is no news to you that our access to information is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because we can get answers and viewpoints within seconds. A curse because if we just keep taking in all of this information through a little screen, our level of hope can begin to fade away. We need human interaction. We need laughter, activity, love, touch, and yes, tears.
I left my computer yesterday and went for a run in the morning. I played with my daughter in the afternoon. I went for a walk around the neighborhood with my family at dusk. And the three of us cuddled up on the couch last night and watched movies together.
Twitter has its place. But I cannot let it re-place those things that are precious to me.
