EU's Got the Love

Colosse-dayum!

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I'm walking my dachshund siblings around Battersea, where crappy restaurants coexist with brand new apartments and waterfront views. It's finally summer in London, the sun grazing my skin as I keep pace with my little doggies. I walk tall, focusing ahead and getting lost in thought as I pass some tradies on their break.

"You've got a nice pair there," one says.

"Yes, they're brother and sister," I reply, smiling.

"Yeah, the dogs are good too," he jeers, gesturing to my legs.

As I walk away in disdain, he calls out to tell me he meant no harm and that it was a compliment. Yet for one week, I walked in fear of verbal harassment. Every single day those fears were realised. By the time Saturday rolled around, I was relieved I would have a break from dog walking, and this had nothing to do with the dogs. 

Arriving in France was exhilarating. Dave picked me up from the airport, and once more I got to be the dorky little sister who tags along with her (cool) bro and his (even cooler) friends. The hype in Nice was unbeatable. With the Euro in full swing, we enjoyed entertainment by hoards of supporters who were cheering, drinking, singing. The frivolities continued into the night, with the noise ascending to our Airbnb in the centre of town. England supporters were caught cavorting in the lamplight, helicoptering their jerseys overhead in preparation for the England vs Iceland match the next day. We had tickets to see this match live.

Leading up to it, we had an awesome day filled with good food, relaxation and swimming, but the day was not as perfect as it seems. Sitting on the beach, Lizzy relays a story of a man who asked her about her day, distracting her as he grabbed at her dress. Later in the afternoon, I was accosted by a man who deliberately walked around his friend and my brother to "bump into" me so he could touch me and apologise. 

Both of these men were Brits.... Did the harassment really have to follow me to France? 

In France, the country's flag was accompanied by the EU flag, both waving at full mast. In Italy, a similar sight adorned the beautiful piazzas we visited. These sights were probably commonplace, but following last week's referendum, they left me with an equally ominous and empty feeling. Returning home to the news that Nigel Farage has just resigned as head of UKIP and Boris Johnson does not plan to run for the head of the Conservative Party/Prime Minister, I'm wondering how we are going to manage leaving the EU when the faces of the campaign are all resigning. Perhaps they've realised their mistakes, trying to save their careers by washing their hands of responsibility? Perhaps they acknowledge that their leave campaign was built on unachievable lies?

And perhaps all of this has had a direct affect on the rise of hate crimes in the UK? (correlation vs causation, I know, I know).

I arrived home on Sunday, and left the house for an hour to go to Mass. Within 10 minutes of leaving I was verbally harassed. Today, I resumed my dog walking duties; I was verbally harassed while walking my first dog of the day (at approximately 9am).

I am no MP. I am no politician. I am not apt at social media or influential statements. I have no intention of doing anything but live a kind life, giving others the benefit of the doubt wherever possible. 

But I am not okay; the social climate in the UK is not okay, the political direction in the UK is not okay. On this Independence Day, I consider myself an American who direly wishes to break away from this mess; but as a resident, I consider myself an American who direly wishes to see this country right itself, unifying to a just and all-encompassing cause. 

And you thought you'd be reading about the fun I had in Europe...

Goofballs.

Squats Squad. 

Statuesque.