We Remember Who We Are: We Live in One Room
A love note to a country of arrivals—and a gentle way forward
There’s a genuine love here. The people being taken from our neighborhoods aren’t strangers; they’re family by proximity and care—serving us meals, tending our gardens, caring for aging parents, harvesting our food, fixing our roofs, celebrating holidays with us. We love them. Most of us never imagined our government would treat them in ways that feel un-human and un-caring.
I’m not here to argue policy. I’m here to remember who we are—and name the pattern that’s separating us, so we can soften its charge and choose differently together.
We’re not enemies. We’re neighbors.
We live in one room. And a sci-fi parable—District 9 (2009)—shows how we forgot, and how we remember.
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A simple remembering
We are a country of arrivals. Someone opened a door for our families once—maybe with a translation, a job lead, a warm plate.
Nature thrives on collaborative diversity. Healthy ecosystems make room, adapt, and grow stronger.
“Us vs. Them” is anti-nature. It narrows empathy, rewards force, and turns people into leverage.
When everyday life gets militarized, fear metastasizes. Even long-settled families—green-card holders, people awaiting citizenship—stay inside, skip work, and avoid public spaces. The House (systems that protect power) benefits when we’re divided; profit extraction and power grabs hide in the noise.
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How fear uses us
Stoke a threat. Loop the scariest images.
Trigger the fight reflex. “They’re coming; only force keeps you safe.”
Win the mandate. People vote scared; crackdowns escalate.
Concentrate gains. Budgets, contracts, ratings, and clicks go up.
Repeat. Trust breaks; neighbors and families pull apart.
Two questions cut through fog:
Who benefits?
Who pays?
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The Fishbowl Law
We live in one room. Think “smoking or non-smoking” on a 70s airplane—it all mixed anyway. Fear campaigns and “us vs. them” policies don’t stay on one side. The anxiety and harm drift into everyone’s lungs. When we remember we share the air, care-first choices become common sense.
Let’s hold that truth as we pick up a mirror. A sci-fi story can help us see the pattern without our defenses up.
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Why District 9 helps (not a review—a mirror)
Because the outsiders are aliens, our identity wiring doesn’t flare. We can see the system cleanly. And the film shows “house rules” at work—paperwork, euphemisms, and force that make harm look official. Labels harden certainty. Force creates the chaos it claims to fix. Then something human happens.
A quick story (the mirror in motion)
In Johannesburg, a massive ship stalls in the sky. The undernourished aliens are herded behind fences into District 9. Years pass. Management becomes ritual: forms, signatures, “relocations.” Wikus van de Merwe, a mid-level bureaucrat with a clipboard, is sent to make it all look legal.
Then everything bends. An accident exposes him to alien biotech, and his body begins to change. As he becomes the very being he’s been processing, the labels fall away. He feels the fear from the other side of the clipboard. What looked like routine policy now reads as xenophobia and segregation wrapped in paperwork. The film shows how house rules can dehumanize—and what happens when a living conscience chooses the human clause.
Wanting safety is human. So is compassion. We don’t have to pick one.
Care-first leadership asks for both: real safety and human dignity. Fear says “choose.” Your inner compass knows it’s both/and.
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This Week’s AMP film: District 9
Watch to raise awareness, not to be outraged. Let Wikus’s turn awaken your own. Notice where “house rules” ask for a quiet sacrifice—your empathy, your voice, someone else’s dignity. Notice who benefits—and who pays.
What to notice while you watch
• A rule that sounds reasonable until you feel its cost.
• When paperwork turns people into “problems.”
• The exact moment Wikus stops complying and starts caring.
• Where your own inner compass nudges “both/and”: safety and dignity.
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Sample Resonance Statements (from the District 9 AMP session)
Let Go
I let go of letting fear write the story.
I let go of using “policy” or “legality” to numb my empathy.
I let go of believing force is the only practical answer.
I let go of stories that say newcomers are a danger by default.
I let go of protecting the House when people are getting hurt.
Allow
I allow myself to see our common humanity, even when I’m afraid.
I allow win-win solutions—safety and dignity.
I allow compassion to guide how I speak and act.
I allow neighbor-to-neighbor help to matter.
I allow my voice to ask for the human clause in policy and practice.
These are samples of what’s inside the full District 9 AMP session.
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Try This AMP Session Yourself: Do The Intention Session - First
If you’d like to experience the healing resonance of this District 9 AMP session, here’s a simple practice before watching the film:
Step 1 — Say these out loud
I allow the changes in my timing and only integrate what I’m ready to.
I have faith that I’ll receive the benefits I desire.
I’m patient with myself as I make my changes.
I let go of feeling I’m too busy to take the time for this.
I let go of needing to understand how AMP works, allowing myself to receive the full benefits in my own timing.
Step 2 — Three Modalities
Nod your head “yes.”
Drink water.
Take several slow, rhythmic breaths through your nose.
Then simply watch District 9 all the way through. Don’t force insights. Just notice what stirs. Trust that the resonance will do its work — gently, in your own timing, with grace and ease.
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Closing: a country of arrivals, a future we choose
This is why it’s great to live here: different foods on the block, new holidays, fresh ideas, jobs many of us no longer want to do—we thrive together. Yes, we’ve stumbled, and yes, we sometimes forget the welcome at our own door. But as Carl Sagan reminded us,
“For all our failings, despite our limitations and fallibilities, we humans are capable of greatness.”
There is a steady, inherent goodness in us. When we collaborate with it, social contagion research shows it spreads: love, tolerance, acceptance—even happiness—ripple through our social networks just as surely as fear and anger do.
Bottom line: Stories help us see it; small practices change it; shared steadiness spreads it—many lighthouses lighting up to change the future together. If we don’t, the pattern keeps rippling—wider, messier, more painful—until it forces change. These films show what isn’t working and where it leads; let’s change the trajectory toward balance, win-win, and peace of mind.
All we’re saying: give this movie a try.
We live in one room - Let’s choose each other - this AMP session will help.