Yes, statistically, things are getting better. Global world hunger is down, the living wage is up, life expectancy is up, annual deaths from natural disasters are down, number of educated and vaccinated individuals globally is up, and the majority of the world population has electricity.
But when I sit with a patient who has brain cancer, when I sit with a homeless person who has been continually assaulted and lost their children, when I sit with a patient brutally assaulted by authorities, when I sit with a family who cannot afford their loved one’s chemo or surgery, when I sit with a woman who has been passed around the foster system and been taken advantage of countless times—no, I do not quote these statistics.
I do not hold up pictures of cancer survivors shaking hands with their doctors, smiling and posing.
I do not hold up pictures of families in front of their new houses shaking hands with their real estate agents.
I do not say, “Only one percent of people with coronavirus actually die.” Yes, fortunately things are getting better. But I have to keep asking, “Better for who?” Better for chronically ill individuals with no hope of coverage? Better for the elderly in nursing homes who are kept in prison-like conditions? Better for prisoners who are kept in inhumane conditions befitting of war crimes? Better for the Black community who struggles just to be heard?
Better for who?
Better for you and me, maybe.
But better for you does not make it true.
As I sit with the grieving and wounded and oppressed: I dare not quote facts and stats that mock their tragedy.
Because as long as my neighbor is not okay, it’s not getting better.
I cannot rest until we sit in the same shade.
[Statistics largely cited from Factfulness by Hans Rosling.]