Safety

Solidarity & Safety: Final Thoughts on Flags, Fobs, Fear, & Freedom

As we reflect on this magical trip, so many meaningful and pleasant associations linger. Yet, perhaps two of the most compelling are the “S”s of Solidarity and Safety. In all our travels, we’re reminded that we are a global community, not separate entities.

This connectivity was exemplified on this trip by the ubiquitous presence of the Ukraine flag. In every country, when we saw the native flag, the Ukraine flag would usually be alongside it. The sense of solidarity was palpable. In observations and conversations, this solidarity was reinforced. For instance, Dom—the young Lithuanian staff at a coffee shop—emphasized that his elder family members vividly tell him about the horrific history of Russian occupation they lived. He explained, “It’s not just about Ukraine, alone; we know we could be next.” He expounded, “But, it’s a global crisis. Everyone in the world needs to stand with Ukraine.”

When we travel, people often tell us, “Be safe.” This admonition is ironic, because we frequently feel safer in other countries. The feeling of safety on this trip was both comforting and poignant. We became acutely aware of the contrast between our sense of safety in this unfamiliar part of the world, as contrasted with our homeland where gun violence is a daily (hourly) occurrence. This unfettered violence is an existential crisis and is abject failure of our country’s willingness to address it. In the U.S., the statistical probability of being shot in a school, mall, place of worship, grocery store, or even our own homes is growing.

A culture of fear permeates in the U.S. Parents are afraid to let their children be unaccompanied—as contrasted with what we viewed in our travels of unaccompanied children being commonplace. This fear culture is a marketing heyday; home security systems and other “safety” measures are big business. We are afraid to be in public and, yet, also afraid someone will break into our homes. How is that freedom?

The contrast between this “fear culture” and “safety culture” is remarkably illustrated in a common object: our rental car’s key fob. We noticed a peculiar difference. Unlike key fobs in the U.S., this fob did not have a panic button. As we had many days of driving on this trip, we began to ponder the subtle, yet significant, meaning of this difference. In the U.S., we are constantly being told that we must be afraid—the “panic buttons” are “necessary.” But, Ya’ll, we do NOT have to live like this; there is a better way.

On this trip, we felt remarkable safety, rather than vigilant fear. We had a sense of ease, rather than an undercurrent of anxiety. We love our home and are grateful for many aspects of our life in the U.S. And, we love our travels and the opportunities to know that true freedom and contentment are not found in feeding violence and fear. Instead, they are fostered by safety and solidarity with and for all.