Sunday, April 30, 2017

A metaphor for prejudice

Picture a forest. An enormous forest in north Canada or Russia, with billions of trees. It's cold and lonely, and you couldn't visit all of the trees, even if you lived a thousand years. But some of the trees are special. Maybe most, maybe a smaller part, maybe just a handful in the whole forest. You don't know. They may be made of gold, or maybe they grant wishes, or tell secrets. One of them maybe loves you, if you give it a chance. You don't know. You will never know unless you find one of these special trees and look closer.

So there's a chance you're just wasting your time in this forest. Many of the trees are ordinary specimens who can offer you nothing. Maybe you've even already found a tree or several trees you think are enough for you. What do you have to lose if you stop looking? Maybe you can even get the whole forest cleared so you can enjoy the view with no worries. You have after all heard of someone who was hit in the head by a falling branch. There are risks. And after all this time no one can even tell you for sure if you're going to find anything you can use.

Me, I'm just a tree in the crowd.

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