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when the heart becomes brave . . . every dimension is transformed 

It is difficult to reconcile bravery and the heart, but it is more challenging to separate this relationship from romantic love and even more complicated to relate it to the political life of a people: Honduras.

Words cannot always capture the complex and delicate nature of our transformations, and yet at the same time, it’s hard to keep them within us.

On June 28, 2009, all of the dimensions of our lives were changed because of the coup d’état. What might have appeared to take place from one day to the next was brewing, in my view, since the very beginning of democratic life in the 1980s. A moment at which, paradoxically and in a parallel fashion to present times, the voices of creativity and revolution were silenced through blood, torture, and disappearances.

Such a large fissure in foundations of democracy in a country generates wounds of all kinds in the lives of those who live there. As La Papu says, “One cannot put Band-Aids on these wounds.” Added to this trauma is the sum of hunger, beatings, gassings, torture, exile, loss, disillusionment, betrayal, exhaustion, and disenchantment.

Perhaps similar to the grandmothers’ magic powder which heals sores—words and actions that awaken hope and a drive for change appear on our horizons. So we took to the streets, our lives became paralyzed in order to defend what is ours. We do so with our entire bodies, minds, hands, souls, tenderness, love, hope, and everything we have within our reach just as we have always done. But now, we must also defend that which we thought we had already achieved, that which was stolen from us, that which they harmed . . . ‘democracy.’

It’s easy to say that some things have changed for the better in two years. But the reality is, we cannot forget the human rights violations, the steps taken to legitimize armed violence through a newly installed military draft that shows its olive drabness everywhere, the pawning of the natural resources we have left, the assassinations of women and men comrades-in-arms, the rapes committed while in uniform and without uniform on our sisters in the struggle; the cutting down of the ‘flowers of difference,’ and of course, in the style of J. Goebbels, the spreading of lies in order to generate illusions, a sort of “they lived happily ever after” myth.

These illusions put all of us at risk—the denial, the forgetfulness, and the cat-like chieftains and opportunists who always land on their feet. The same people who take ownership of the “truth” to justify their means with their “ends” with no understanding that the means are also the ends; with no conception that democracy should be participatory, inclusive, characterized by solidarity, feminist ideologies, diversity, and openness. The lack of awareness of the true experiences of our people sustains this static and harmful reality.

Now, we need to protect life—physical, emotional, creative, environmental. We also need to protect hope and build alternative spaces which permit us to continue to sow the seeds of liberty, without forgetting to put in practice all that we have learned. In giving back what we gain from our experiences, we build stronger foundations and nurture our movements. And so the Resistance is born from thousands of brave hearts who yearn for a good life and a better world.

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