Today it is exactly one year and one day since I moved to Lesvos. I'm going to celebrate by spending the night sitting next to the sea, boat spotting to assist rubber boats if they arrive from Turkey.
Because after a year and a day, nothing has changed: people who have survived prison, torture, being beaten, shot at, bombed, and starved still get on dinghy boats in the middle of the night to reach a place of safety and protection - yet they do not find one.
Because after a year and a day, the island is still filled with people desperate, humiliated and literally driven to madness by our systems designed to control and deter them.
Because after a year and a day, Europe still holds on to its image of civilization and being a champion of human rights, while letting people rot away, waiting more than two years for the next step or even simply a decision to their asylum request.
And in a year and a day, I still don't know what to tell people other than I AM SORRY. I am sorry we aren't better than this. I am sorry your lives are deemed disposable, valueless. I am sorry that despite all the efforts of some of us, we still seem incapacitated in the face of the forces that insist on grinding you down and spewing you out. I am sorry you feel more unsafe here than in an actual war zone, and I am sorry because I know you are right. I will keep trying, but after a year and a day I have nothing to say but I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry.