Yesterday, I took my four-year-old son to the zoo. It may sound like a typical family outing, but it was anything but ordinary. We spent the day bonding over the sights of rhinos and a pair of giant tortoises engaged in some rather unusual behavior. However, this trip was different because we traveled to the Oregon Zoo using Portland’s light rail system—a route that took us past the Hollywood Transit Center, where a train had recently been the scene of a terrorist attack.
The public transit system is one of the main reasons I chose to stay in Portland after completing my studies. Due to my poor eyesight, I can’t obtain a driver’s license, but the MAX light rail and bus services make it easy for me to navigate the city with my two young children. Unlike my hometown, where car dependency was the norm, we can thrive here without one.
However, our peaceful life has been shaken by the threat of terrorism, violence, Islamophobia, and hatred. Initially, I felt a surge of fear at the thought of riding the train again. If such an incident could occur on an ordinary day, what was to stop it from happening again? Would it escalate? Would more people be involved?
That night, lying in bed, I pondered whether I would possess the same bravery as those three men who confronted hatred. I want to believe I would, to be the person who stands up and declares, “Not today.” Yet, I’ve never faced a situation like that before. The thought of “What if my children are with me?” gripped my heart, leading me to reflect deeply. My children mean everything to me, and I would do anything to protect them. The idea of exposing them to danger fills me with dread.
But I also recognize my duty—to teach my children how to confront hate and stand up for those who cannot defend themselves. It’s essential to support those in need and oppose any form of harm—be it physical, mental, or emotional—toward others. This responsibility weighs heavily on me, and I must ensure my kids are safe while also doing what is right.
In essence, I would rather face harm while upholding the right course of action than explain to my kids why I did nothing. It’s all too easy to retreat in fear—to abandon the life we’ve built because of the potential threat of violence on the train. But the reality is that doing the right thing often carries risks. Yet, we must persist in our principles, regardless of fear.
For my children and me, the right choice is to continue living our lives—more aware, with open eyes and hearts ready to advocate for love and compassion for our neighbors. Yesterday, I took my son to the zoo, and later this week, we’ll likely ride the train to IKEA. We will keep using that train, over and over, because I refuse to let terrorism, hatred, or fear dictate how we live or impact the lives of others in our community.
In some way or another, love will always triumph.
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Summary:
In the face of recent terror attacks in Portland, a mother reflects on her commitment to raise her children with courage and compassion. Despite her fears, she chooses to continue using public transport and teaching her kids the importance of standing up against hate. Love and resilience are her guiding principles as she navigates the challenges of motherhood in a world filled with uncertainty.