Last summer, the country I grew up in experienced the worst riots in its history. Young, old, black and white looted,
vandalized and burned the streets across the UK. It was a terrible thing to watch from afar and writing about it now, it’s still seems unbelievable.
The official headlines read, ‘hundreds of stores were looted, buildings were set ablaze and five people died amid the mayhem that spread over four nights across England’
And as bad as it got and as worried as I was about my family in London, the only thing that kept popping into my head was ‘I am sooo glad I don’t live there any more’.
I hate that it took this terrible set of events to finally make me realize that leaving the country where the majority of my family and friends reside and where I had a great career could have actually been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
Can you imagine watching those scenes on TV and praying that the looters and criminals didn’t turn into the next street and burn down your house next? Can you imagine coming home from work and finding yourself stuck in the path of rioting looters?
Now I’m not suddenly going to start singing the praises of this middle American town that I now find myself in, but I’ve never felt more sure about raising my sons in a town where police brutality and violence is minimal (NOT non-existent) and the streets are practically like a ghost town after 10pm at night.
It’s a simple comparison –the luxuries of city life or the peace of mind that comes with knowing your children are safe and less likely to get caught at the wrong place at the wrong time.
As much as I may miss those luxuries (oh how I miss jumping on the tube!), I’ll take the latter any time.
vandalized and burned the streets across the UK. It was a terrible thing to watch from afar and writing about it now, it’s still seems unbelievable.
The official headlines read, ‘hundreds of stores were looted, buildings were set ablaze and five people died amid the mayhem that spread over four nights across England’
And as bad as it got and as worried as I was about my family in London, the only thing that kept popping into my head was ‘I am sooo glad I don’t live there any more’.
I hate that it took this terrible set of events to finally make me realize that leaving the country where the majority of my family and friends reside and where I had a great career could have actually been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
Can you imagine watching those scenes on TV and praying that the looters and criminals didn’t turn into the next street and burn down your house next? Can you imagine coming home from work and finding yourself stuck in the path of rioting looters?
Now I’m not suddenly going to start singing the praises of this middle American town that I now find myself in, but I’ve never felt more sure about raising my sons in a town where police brutality and violence is minimal (NOT non-existent) and the streets are practically like a ghost town after 10pm at night.
It’s a simple comparison –the luxuries of city life or the peace of mind that comes with knowing your children are safe and less likely to get caught at the wrong place at the wrong time.
As much as I may miss those luxuries (oh how I miss jumping on the tube!), I’ll take the latter any time.
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