Nobody could hear me over the sound of the storm, and I doubted there was even anyone to hear me. A wave towered overhead, then crashed down upon me. When I opened my eyes, I was in an ocean. I rested my head on my arm, I closed my eyes, and prayed for the pain to end. My eyes looked bloodshot but otherwise I looked alright-Īgony, and I sank onto the floor. I examined myself in the bathroom mirror. I rose, and stumbled down the hall into the restroom. My head ached so much that I could no longer think. Someone was asking, “Frederick, what were you about to say?” My head suddenly burst with pain, and I broke off. The only thing was, how did I know it was moral if everyone else in my delegation disagreed with it? It was a point I actually believed to be true myself. She had raised a particularly good point. Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to answer. Fortunately I didn’t need the interpreter’s help, because I understood Portuguese from school. She asked it in Portuguese, and the interpreter took a while to translate it.
The ambassador from Portugal shook her head and asked, “How do we know that others won’t take advantage of our inaction? Besides, isn’t it our duty to promote human rights?” Second, who knows how any of the rest of us will react? It might start a war that destroys us all.”Įverybody else seated around the negotiation table nodded, save for one person. “We shouldn’t intervene when others abuse human rights,” I said. I didn’t believe what I said on that April day at the United Nations, but I could live with that. NOTE: Aspects of history have been changed to suit the purposes of this story.
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