This is how it should be.

The world on the edge of its seat. Holding a collective breath. Calling out the monsters. Sending up prayers for peace. Linking invisible fingers to push back the violence.

Some of us are seeing bravery for the first time. Raw, pure utter bravery that stems from love. Love for a country. Ukraine. For its children and grandchildren. Love for freedom. For home. Old men who show up at the front lines. Young men who have never held a real weapon before. Doing what they can with what they have. Following a leader who refuses to run and hide. Volunteers from neighboring countries crossing the border to help.

Neighboring countries opening up borders to give shelter to refugees. Changing policies quickly to save lives. Finding ways to accommodate. To welcome.

This is how it should be.

We post pictures of Russian protesters. Peacefully risking their lives for what they believe in. We sit in awe of their bravery. Knowing the world may never see them again. So we pray for their safety.

This is how it should be.

Violence should be condemned. Heroes should be sung. Children should be sheltered. Homelands should be safe.

And I’m so glad the world seems to be coming together to decry this violence. This utter ruthless violence that speaks not of strength but of a bully.

But honestly, there’s a place in my heart that is heavy. For all the other heroes left unsung. All the black and brown children left un-sheltered. The trans kids who even now are having laws made that threaten their very existence. The refugees from countries like Afghanistan, who have had a long history of living under Russia’s violence, being turned away. Black and brown protesters attacked for walking peacefully in their cities. Parents with a different skin tone than ours, criticized for fleeing their own war torn home and told to go back to their country.

Compassion should not be selective.

Like a mother’s womb, it grows and swells to hold and protect the life it shelters. Compassion is marked with stretch marks. Gentle hands caressing the places its been kicked from the inside. It recognizes life and protects it. Whether Ukrainian, Syrian, Afghani, Honduran, Guatemalan, Congolese, Rohingya or Uighur . Straight or queer. Muslim or Christian. Male or Female.

So maybe the next time you see Black Lives Matter protesters holding signs on the street corner of your city, you will remember how you admired the Russian protesters. Maybe you can find the courage to get out of your car and go stand with them. Plant your feet beside theirs. Bear witness to their stories of courage. Their fight for a world that is safe for their babies to grow up in. Like the Russian protesters, they know they too could disappear. It happens. Even in these United States. Maybe you will choose to stand with those who are denouncing violence. Believe their stories. This is how it should be.

Perhaps the next time you see a young mother speaking to her children in a language you do not understand, you will remember the language of compassion. Instead of telling her to go back to her country, you will welcome her to yours. This is how it should be.

I hope that next time you see a person who doesn’t quite fit into any gender box that you are familiar with. Or is wearing their colors and being unabashedly authentic. Perhaps you will remember the bravery of Ukraine. Perhaps you can dig down and find some of that bravery yourself and be a safe person for queer folks in your community. This is how it should be.

You see, you can either be a monster or you can help fight them.