Humanity after Harvey

Everyone wears a mask. I’m not talking about Spider-Man or Batman, or even Superman’s glasses that he hides behind as Clark Kent. I’m talking about what sort of persona we each present to the world on a daily basis. Many people aren’t even aware of the mask they wear. I am not, by any means, saying that these masks are a bad thing. It’s the only way many people are able to function normally in society. However, there a number of times that those masks slip. It happens when a person is dealing with their inferiors and it happens when a major, life-changing event occurs, such as a natural disaster. Something like Hurricane Harvey can bring out the best in many people. I saw it for the past two weeks in my fellow soldiers, all giving up time with their families to help people they never met. Granted, we were on orders, but we weren’t happy while we were waiting around, doing nothing. Once we actually got a mission, our eyes lit up with purpose, and we had energy to spare, even through twelve-hour days. I saw it in the State Troopers and even civilian volunteers working alongside us, throwing all they could into loading cases of water and food into the vehicles of those that needed it. I saw it in the eyes of those that we helped, even those that had lost everything. They still had faith in the knowledge that they had each other and were not alone. They were so grateful to us and thanked us for our service. Unfortunately, what brings out the best in some brings out the worst in others. People coming back to get supplies three or four times in one day. People cutting in front of each other in a line that already had a half hour long wait time. And those are just the ones I saw. What gives me hope are all the smiles, and knowing that we made a difference, even if it was for a small percentage of a small town near the Gulf Coast of Texas. With all my friends in Florida right now, both civilian and military, they could use some of that hope, and some of those smiles as well. Even if it's just a mask.