I wonder why I'm the only one in my community who cares about Leonard Peltier.

I wonder if anyone in my community even knows about Leonard Peltier.

I wonder if anyone in my community would ever spit in his face and tell him to burn in Hell.

I wonder if anyone in my community would be able to endure being framed for a crime they didn't commit, watching a corrupt trial take place, then sit mostly in solitary confinement for 35 YEARS. Could they remain as peaceful and cooperative as Leonard has been? Could they continue to hold onto hope that one day someone will care and set them free?

I wonder if anyone knows Amnesty International considers him a political prisoner? Desmond Tutu fought for his release, and President Clinton agreed to pardon him - but changed his mind at the last minute and pardoned his buddy instead.

I wonder if anyone knows Leonard is an old man now who is near the end of his life. He's no threat to society. He just wants to go home and be with his family for a little while before he leaves this world. His family desperately wants him to come home too.

I wonder why my son hasn't even read the email I sent him two weeks ago. Yeah, I know it's part of the deal, but I'm at my wits end and my emotions are reaching it's boiling point. It makes me want to SCREAM when I hear people say they support this war. They have NO IDEA what I've been going through over these last four years. I WISH they would look deep into the eyes of their children and grandchildren and tell me truthfully they are ready, willing, and able to sacrifice them for the people of the Middle East. ONLY THEN will I believe they support this war.

I wonder why there continues to be so much racial hatred in this country. I feel like I've been on the receiving end my entire life. I'm sick and tired of being told to "just get over it."

I wonder if people of "faith" who hold this racial hatred can see their own hypocrisy and guilt?

I wonder why I feel like that little girl in the movie "Apocalypto." Her mother died, she was very sick and frightened, reaching out for help, and everyone kept pushing her away with a stick.

I wonder how many times can I be told to "just get over it" before I snap?