In every courtroom, you see her—standing tall, blindfolded, holding scales in one hand and a sword in the other. She’s meant to represent fairness and justice. But how can she truly see the truth if her eyes are closed?
She claims to bring balance, weighing what is right and what is wrong. But if she can’t see the struggles of the people, how can she understand their fight?
Look at her—far above the crowd. She stands there, distant, while people suffer below. Their pain, their fear, their tears—she doesn’t notice any of it. The blindfold hides all of it.
And those scales? They’re supposed to symbolize fairness, a way to judge evenly. But instead, they often tip unfairly. They don’t unite us; they divide us. They measure people’s worth like a storm that lifts some up while pushing others down.
Then there’s the sword. It’s sharp, cold, and unforgiving. It’s not just a symbol; it’s a weapon that silences those who dare to speak up. In a world where the weak are already quiet, the sword strikes down anyone who tries to be heard.
Justice is supposed to protect the powerless, but when the sword speaks louder than the people, can it really be trusted?
And here’s something to consider: Why do we picture justice as a woman? Do we assume she’s fair simply because of that? But that image, that idea, hides the real truth. Justice isn’t about being a man or a woman. It’s about how we treat each other and how we live together. Justice shouldn’t stand above us, separate and distant; it should stand with us.
Justice should be simple. It should be for everyone. It should give a voice to those who are weak and provide a safe place for those in need. It shouldn’t be harsh or cruel. Justice should care.
Now, just witness a world where justice sees all of us—where it listens and where it cares. A world where justice isn’t cold and distant but kind and close. A place where love and fairness are stronger than swords and silence.
It’s time to lift the blindfold. It’s time to change how we perceive justice, to build a world where everyone belongs. Where justice isn’t just an idea—it’s something real, something we create together.
Justice isn’t blind. It’s what we create—together.
She claims to bring balance, weighing what is right and what is wrong. But if she can’t see the struggles of the people, how can she understand their fight?
Look at her—far above the crowd. She stands there, distant, while people suffer below. Their pain, their fear, their tears—she doesn’t notice any of it. The blindfold hides all of it.
And those scales? They’re supposed to symbolize fairness, a way to judge evenly. But instead, they often tip unfairly. They don’t unite us; they divide us. They measure people’s worth like a storm that lifts some up while pushing others down.
Then there’s the sword. It’s sharp, cold, and unforgiving. It’s not just a symbol; it’s a weapon that silences those who dare to speak up. In a world where the weak are already quiet, the sword strikes down anyone who tries to be heard.
Justice is supposed to protect the powerless, but when the sword speaks louder than the people, can it really be trusted?
And here’s something to consider: Why do we picture justice as a woman? Do we assume she’s fair simply because of that? But that image, that idea, hides the real truth. Justice isn’t about being a man or a woman. It’s about how we treat each other and how we live together. Justice shouldn’t stand above us, separate and distant; it should stand with us.
Justice should be simple. It should be for everyone. It should give a voice to those who are weak and provide a safe place for those in need. It shouldn’t be harsh or cruel. Justice should care.
Now, just witness a world where justice sees all of us—where it listens and where it cares. A world where justice isn’t cold and distant but kind and close. A place where love and fairness are stronger than swords and silence.
It’s time to lift the blindfold. It’s time to change how we perceive justice, to build a world where everyone belongs. Where justice isn’t just an idea—it’s something real, something we create together.
Justice isn’t blind. It’s what we create—together.
I truly appreciate your insights. However, I view the symbol "Lady Justice" as embodying judgment rather than justice. Where there is genuine justice, there’s no need for judgment, courtrooms, or judges. In the face of injustice, we should pay attention to reforming the system instead of merely appointing judges. After all, judgment creates division, and from division comes violence, while justice mitigates that division. For me, justice means a system with a set of rules that apply equally to all.
