Would I kneel in the middle of Alpha Avenue, my arms linked with my neighbors, Mrs. Goulart on the right and Dwayne on the left, to stop the advancement of an enemy tank into my village?
Would I spend the night sitting on the floor at Beer’d brewery in the Velvet Mill, making Molotov cocktails to later hurl from my porch roof at an oncoming enemy convoy?
Would I drive across state lines to help folks in Massachusetts stave off an attack from an evil force?
Would I pack my son a lunch and a change of clothes into a backpack, kiss him on the cheek and hold his face in my hands and then send him off to protect us from those who want to destroy our way of life?
I watch the bravery of the Ukranian people — the grandmothers, the mothers, the villagers, the women and children — and I wonder … would I?