A boy in winter

I think a lot about movement as I read A Boy in Winter, about being herded together and being displaced. I think a lot about how conflict—war, racism, othering—forces people to move, whether through fleeing or through forced migration or through the rounding up a group of people who are forced to work, or perish. I think a lot about what it means to be displaced, and what it means to not know where home will be next, if there will be any. I think a lot about how some things don't seem to change, and how heartbreaking that really is.

(originally published on inthemargins.ca)