On Hope and Small Spheres of Change

Photo by abstractartangel77

When I was small, my parents used to worry I was too idealistic, a prime target for people to take advantage of. It made them protective, and less trusting of any reaches for independence. Even today, when the years have mellowed my idealism, I don’t see idealism as something that skews perspective, that is somehow unintelligent. I reject that it is realism’s poorer sister. I see it as a superpower. It is hope. It is strength.

I’ve struggled to find optimism recent...