Indifference to Evictions and Migrant Deaths Erases Collective Humanity
The growing indifference towards evictions, migrant deaths, and suffering in Gaza signifies a troubling shift away from our shared humanity, which thrives on community healing.
Historically, our humanity stems from the moment we chose to care for one another. Perhaps dating back to when early humans assisted a wounded mate, we learnt to come together in vulnerability. This cooperation fostered growth, paving the way for advances in art, language, and technology.
However, we now appear to be reversing this progress. We privatise spaces for sharing ideas, confiding in robots rather than each other. Daily, we increase our tolerance to the pain of others. Instead of reflecting on our failures, we distract ourselves with hateful rhetoric, placing the blame for our isolation on those worse off—migrants adrift in storm-tossed waters, individuals facing eviction, and families in Gaza struggling for survival.
This indifference benefits those in power, reducing their responsibilities. Each time we accept the term “invasion” rather than advocate for safe migration routes, we allow them to sidestep crucial issues. Moreover, when families in El Hierro bury unnamed migrants lost at sea, or when NGOs bear the burden of fielding calls from anxious families, the authorities evade accountability.
Additionally, when we divert our attention from the ongoing brutal evictions in Spain, which continue following the death of Maricarmen, we enable power holders to neglect their duties. These tragedies, including children being buried in El Hierro, also fall under state responsibility.
Awakening to our privilege involves recognizing that, right now, children in Gaza face a far darker storm than those in Gran Canaria. Some are bailing out water and crying from despair, while others, lost in thought, grapple with the unsettling notion that Earth might be nothing more than the hell of another planet.
Teachers at all levels: it’s time to halt standard lessons. After November 29, nothing might feel as urgent. Witness an eviction, share those experiences with your students. Attend the landing of a migrant boat, observe the exhausted rescuers burdened by the broken lives they’ve encountered. Show your classes the film La voz de Hind Rajab. You, as educators, hold immense power and have always served as guiding lights. We need to heal together, to embrace the challenge of caring for those “on the edge of the night,” as expressed in the Queen song featuring David Bowie.
