On Tuesday, January 20, 2009, President-Elect Barack Obama will become President Barack Obama, and a lot of things will change for America. Obama will be the first President of black parentage. I won't call him an African-American for a couple of reasons: one, unless you believe the propaganda that says he was born in Kenya--and is therefore ineligible to become President--he's not from Africa and therefore doesn't qualify for the hyphenated designation; and two, while his father was black, his mother was white...making him biracial, neither all black nor all white.
Unfortunately, there's still something of a racial divide in America, a chasm that still splits this nation 146 years after the Emancipation Proclamation, almost 45 years after the landmark Civil Rights Act, and nearly 41 years after Martin Luther King Jr. became a martyr for the cause of racial equality. For the first 100 years since Lincoln's proclamation, it was primarily the whites who kept this wound open; for the last 45 years, both sides are to blame.
Having grown up in a predominantly rural community, and having been born into a family that sold and serviced tractors and farm equipment, I frequent internet discussion boards that cater to farmers, rural folks, and old tractor enthusiasts. It's a predominantly white crowd, and also predominantly conservative Republicans. The posts on their discussion boards tell me a lot about what rural white America is thinking. And lot of them already don't like the President-Elect; in fact, many of them are already cheering for him and his programs to go down in flames even before any of his legislative agenda has been introduced in Congress.
I tend to take what I consider a more enlightened approach. It's one based upon my own background as a rural white American, but it's at odds with the majority of the opinions I see on these discussion boards. While I grew up in what today would be called a conservative household, my family was strong supporters of the Democratic Party. Not the pro-abortion, pro-homosexual-marriage Democrat Party of today, but the Truman and Kennedy Democrats of 40 and 50 years ago. My own political leanings are Libertarian [that all citizens have all rights not specifically ceded to the government], although I really think the political parties as we know them should all be outlawed and a better system for selecting our leaders devised.
From that background, my opinion is that a Barack Obama presidency is an opportunity. It's a chance to teach Americans--not just black Americans, and not just white Americans, but ALL Americans--that our stereotypical views of other Americans are holding us back from becoming all that we, as a nation, can be. Black America, and White America, take note:
Barack Obama didn't get where he is by embracing "gangsta" culture. He doesn't wear his trousers below his underwear. He doesn't wear chains and "bling" around his neck. He doesn't emulate the "thug" demographic. He doesn't speak "ebonics," but rather sounds as educated as he is. He didn't get where he is by covering his teeth with "grills."
He got where he is by working within the existing system. He conformed to the dress code, he learned, he studied, he took advantage of the opportunities that presented themselves to him, and he learned to play the game of politics better than his competition. He didn't complain about how "da Man" was keeping him down, or holding him back. He learned how the system works, and he took "da Man" to school, and beat him at his own game.
And by doing so, Barack Obama is now "da Man."
And so at this point, a couple of days before the Obama inauguration, I think it's safe to say that Obama is going to be the "no excuses" President. As in, there's no excuse for anyone, black or white, to claim that he cannot become whatever he chooses to be in America, simply because of his race or ethnic background. Barack Obama is living proof that any American who is willing to conform to the mold, who is willing to avail themselves of the educational opportunities in America, who is willing to speak rational thoughts in coherent sentences, can attain and achieve goals far beyond those available to previous generations of Americans.
The example of Barack Obama flies in the face of the pimp/"ho"/thug/gangsta model that too much of young black--and white--America embraces. He is, I repeat, the product of conforming to the model of white American success, embracing education, embracing the "uniform" of the business community, their clean-cut look, their speech and mannerisms.
And perhaps that's why so many in rural white America fear him. He looks just like the bankers and lawyers and stockbrokers that many rural Americans haven't trusted since at least the Great Depression, and yet he's also biracial/black. And these folks cast a wary eye on the preparations for the inauguration, deriding Obama as the (small-m)"messiah" who has led the welfare class to their own version of the Promised Land. Since Obama's election, sales of guns and ammunition are off the charts, as many rural whites believe that after Tuesday their Second Amendment rights will be immediately rescinded by some despotic act of a power-crazed dictator. Personally, I have no idea where that idea originates, and find it completely illogical. I mean, we can't even get this Congress to agree whether or not to help the auto industry; how can we expect instantaneous agreement on something as controversial as gutting the Second Amendment? And remember, it was Nixon, and later Cheaney, who espoused the doctrine that if the President does it, it can't be illegal; it certainly hasn't been the Democrats who have been proponents of that view of presidential power.
I suppose in the coming days, weeks, and months we'll have the opportunity to see just what an Obama presidency will bring. Let us hope that this new beginning will bring forth an era of cooperation between the races, and that there will soon no longer be reason for any of us to be described as any sort of hyphenated Americans. Let us hope that all Americans can find it in their hearts to unite toward a common goal, that of a strong and unified America...one that embraces Dr.King's dream of an America where the color of one's skin is unimportant, and one in which we all display a content of character in which we can take a justifiable pride.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Class Reunions ARE For Everyone
As I look out my window today, it's another overcast morning in
Southern Indiana, with a dusting of snow on the ground, and a few
more flurries coming down. But that means we're only weeks away from
the season of class reunions and alumni banquets! If my old
calculator is correct, the classes of '69 and '74 will have a couple
of significant milestones coming up...as well as the half-century
mark for '59...and James Best, Corydon's best-known alumnus, will
have a 65-year reunion going on with his Class of 1944!
On a related note, when contacting some classmates about reunions, I
sometimes hear comments along the lines: "Well, those people [my
classmates] didn't care much for me when I was in school; why should
I care about getting together with them now?" And I think I have an
answer to that.
When I was in grade school and junior high, I was teased
unmercifully. Some kids did some downright mean things to me, and
some did them on a daily basis. If anyone who ever attended Corydon
schools ever had a right to make a comment like the one above, that
would be me. But as I've grown older, I'd like to think I've grown
up...at least a little. And as I've grown, I've learned that the
heaviest burden you can carry in life is a grudge.
Sure, some of the things I suffered in school at the hands of
classmates were indignities that nobody should have to suffer. But I
realize that the folks who did these things to me were ONLY KIDS then,
too. They've grown up, as I did, and many of them have suffered
through medical problems, business problems, marital problems, and
family tragedies that are way beyond any snubs any of us suffered in
school.
A little forgiveness goes a long way.
In fact, if I judged all class reunions by my class' 10-year reunion,
I probably wouldn't have returned to any others. At the 10-year
reunion, I felt like the primary purpose of many folks was to
say, "Look at me!!! Look at how fabulous my life is!!!" At the time,
I'd just been laid off from my job, and it was pretty much all I
could do to scrape together the spare money to go to the reunion, and I had SO little to brag about. But then, it's hard to look down on people--which is essentially what bragging is about--when you're near the bottom yourself.
But at the 20-year reunion, the atmosphere was totally different. It
wasn't about impressing folks, it was about getting to see old
friends again. It was less a game of "Look at ME!!!" and more a
spirit of "Good to see ya!" " How are ya?" " DAMN, you look old!" [OK, I
was kidding about that last one...but only a little]. Discovering
that our favorite high-school hottie had developed a pair of "thunder-
thighs", or that Miller Lite had made some of the jocks a little
more "well-rounded" than we'd imagined, took a back seat to catching
up on where life had taken us since graduation. We laughed, we
reminisced about toilet-papering the coach's house, talked about our kids, and we enjoyed the company of the folks who were the biggest part of our lives for 4, 8, or 12 or more years of our lives.
So, based upon my experiences, I just can't understand why anyone
would carry what's essentially a childhood grudge so far into
adulthood. If anyone had a reason to do so, it'd be me. But
then, I'd miss all the time spent with friends at these
reunions...friends who were having just as hard a time as I was, in
different ways, in figuring out how to get through school, and life,
on a daily basis. I'll admit I made my share of mistakes growing up;
and it would be simply wrong of me not to allow for, and in these
days overlook, the mistakes of those who shared a gym class or a
study hall or a math class with me.
After all, we're only human, and life's too short to carry grudges.
So when you have the chance, GO to your class reunion. Chances are, the
folks you thought were jerks have probably gotten a lot wiser, and a
bit more mellow, over the years. And maybe you'll discover that you
have, too. And if you get the chance to dance to the music of your
era, and sing along with the records or CD's, sing as loud as you
can, and dance the way you wanna dance. People will remember what
you DID a lot longer than they'll remember what you DIDN'T do...and
as my great aunt always said, nobody ever built a statue of someone
for what he DIDN'T do.
So go to that reunion...be yourself...and get to know the people your
classmates are TODAY. You'll be surprised at how the conversations
seldom touch on how big someone's house is, or how many cars they
have, or how important their job is. But there'll be a lot of
demonstrations of how important their FRIENDS are. Stop carrying that grudge; lay down that burden; throw away that anchor that's been holding YOU back, but doing so little to the "intended" victims!!!
Go ahead and go to that class reunion...I promise it'll be worth it.
Southern Indiana, with a dusting of snow on the ground, and a few
more flurries coming down. But that means we're only weeks away from
the season of class reunions and alumni banquets! If my old
calculator is correct, the classes of '69 and '74 will have a couple
of significant milestones coming up...as well as the half-century
mark for '59...and James Best, Corydon's best-known alumnus, will
have a 65-year reunion going on with his Class of 1944!
On a related note, when contacting some classmates about reunions, I
sometimes hear comments along the lines: "Well, those people [my
classmates] didn't care much for me when I was in school; why should
I care about getting together with them now?" And I think I have an
answer to that.
When I was in grade school and junior high, I was teased
unmercifully. Some kids did some downright mean things to me, and
some did them on a daily basis. If anyone who ever attended Corydon
schools ever had a right to make a comment like the one above, that
would be me. But as I've grown older, I'd like to think I've grown
up...at least a little. And as I've grown, I've learned that the
heaviest burden you can carry in life is a grudge.
Sure, some of the things I suffered in school at the hands of
classmates were indignities that nobody should have to suffer. But I
realize that the folks who did these things to me were ONLY KIDS then,
too. They've grown up, as I did, and many of them have suffered
through medical problems, business problems, marital problems, and
family tragedies that are way beyond any snubs any of us suffered in
school.
A little forgiveness goes a long way.
In fact, if I judged all class reunions by my class' 10-year reunion,
I probably wouldn't have returned to any others. At the 10-year
reunion, I felt like the primary purpose of many folks was to
say, "Look at me!!! Look at how fabulous my life is!!!" At the time,
I'd just been laid off from my job, and it was pretty much all I
could do to scrape together the spare money to go to the reunion, and I had SO little to brag about. But then, it's hard to look down on people--which is essentially what bragging is about--when you're near the bottom yourself.
But at the 20-year reunion, the atmosphere was totally different. It
wasn't about impressing folks, it was about getting to see old
friends again. It was less a game of "Look at ME!!!" and more a
spirit of "Good to see ya!" " How are ya?" " DAMN, you look old!" [OK, I
was kidding about that last one...but only a little]. Discovering
that our favorite high-school hottie had developed a pair of "thunder-
thighs", or that Miller Lite had made some of the jocks a little
more "well-rounded" than we'd imagined, took a back seat to catching
up on where life had taken us since graduation. We laughed, we
reminisced about toilet-papering the coach's house, talked about our kids, and we enjoyed the company of the folks who were the biggest part of our lives for 4, 8, or 12 or more years of our lives.
So, based upon my experiences, I just can't understand why anyone
would carry what's essentially a childhood grudge so far into
adulthood. If anyone had a reason to do so, it'd be me. But
then, I'd miss all the time spent with friends at these
reunions...friends who were having just as hard a time as I was, in
different ways, in figuring out how to get through school, and life,
on a daily basis. I'll admit I made my share of mistakes growing up;
and it would be simply wrong of me not to allow for, and in these
days overlook, the mistakes of those who shared a gym class or a
study hall or a math class with me.
After all, we're only human, and life's too short to carry grudges.
So when you have the chance, GO to your class reunion. Chances are, the
folks you thought were jerks have probably gotten a lot wiser, and a
bit more mellow, over the years. And maybe you'll discover that you
have, too. And if you get the chance to dance to the music of your
era, and sing along with the records or CD's, sing as loud as you
can, and dance the way you wanna dance. People will remember what
you DID a lot longer than they'll remember what you DIDN'T do...and
as my great aunt always said, nobody ever built a statue of someone
for what he DIDN'T do.
So go to that reunion...be yourself...and get to know the people your
classmates are TODAY. You'll be surprised at how the conversations
seldom touch on how big someone's house is, or how many cars they
have, or how important their job is. But there'll be a lot of
demonstrations of how important their FRIENDS are. Stop carrying that grudge; lay down that burden; throw away that anchor that's been holding YOU back, but doing so little to the "intended" victims!!!
Go ahead and go to that class reunion...I promise it'll be worth it.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
This Christmas Season
Friends and Family:
This Christmas season, there's a lot to be thankful about around our house. Our grandson Markus is almost 16 months old, and every day we spend with him is a joy. Not every moment, you understand; as I said, he IS about 16 months old, and those teeth are still coming in. But watching him learn and grow is truly amazing. I've found I remember a lot more than I've forgotten about raising kids, and I hope that Kayla and Bobby can say that I've kept my mouth shut when I needed to, and let them be the parents. And while no one is 100% perfect as a new parent, Kayla has grown into the role even better than I'd hoped. Bobby's been there before with his 6-year-old daughter Aaliyah, and his moderating influence can be seen in Markus' upbringing as well.
This Christmas season, we're thankful to have Andy back from Iraq, where he spent last Christmas at Camp Stryker. And when Andy and Jennifer came in this past weekend from their home in Savannah, GA, they surprised us with the news that we'll have another grandchild, either Ella or Eli, joining the family around the end of June or the first of July. And while we already miss Andy's cats, Toby and Othakitti, who left with Andy and Jennifer to make their new home in Georgia, we know that our new grandchild will have a couple of built-in companions who'll be attentive to his/her every cry, laugh, or burp...as they've been with Markus over the past year.
This Christmas season, we're thankful that Mamaw Turley will be home to share the holiday with us. At age 97, while we've noticed that she's not quite as steady on her feet as she was not so long ago, we're thankful that we'll have one more opportunity to gather the family and share the holidays with her. Lots of families don't have opportunities like this, and I hope that we cherish this one as much as we should.
This Christmas season, Sherry and I are spending a lot more time in the kitchen making all sorts of special holiday treats. Sherry and I made a couple of batches of her mother's no-bake fruitcake, and I think Helen would've been proud of the outcome. Over the last few years, I've been making and giving away loaves of Pappy's beer bread for the holidays. I know how much pride he took in his beer bread, and I hope I'm carrying on the tradition in much the same spirit in which he did. Sherry and I have also been baking and sharing loaves of Amish cinnamon bread, but sometimes waiting the 10 days for the starter to "finish" makes me feel...well, like a kid at Christmas season. And tonight Sherry and I are trying our hand at making bourbon balls for the first time. We'll know how that one turns out sometime tomorrow, but the preliminary results are quite encouraging. And after being moderately successful with the sweet potato pie I made for Thanksgiving, I'm considering making one for our family Christmas get-together as well. In years past, we used to count on other folks to make the holiday goodies; now that we have grandchildren of our own, it's starting to dawn on me that it's going to be up to my generation to make the seasonal treats that the kids of all ages look forward to year after year.
And this Christmas season, we're thankful for all our friends who have given us support and encouragement when we've needed it, who've shared our burdens when we needed help, who've sent a joke or a thoughtful message when we've needed a lift, and who've pretty much just been there when we needed someone to ask "How's it going?" We realize that without our friends, and without our families, this would be a pretty bleak existence. So if you receive this message, know that we appreciate you for who you are and what you do...even if we don't see, call, or email one another as often as we probably should.
This Christmas season...may we all once again find all the hope and joy and wonder that we all knew when we were kids, and may the Christmas season be magical for you and your loved ones once again this year. And may God richly bless you in the coming year with companionship, love, laughter and all that's important in life.
This Christmas season, there's a lot to be thankful about around our house. Our grandson Markus is almost 16 months old, and every day we spend with him is a joy. Not every moment, you understand; as I said, he IS about 16 months old, and those teeth are still coming in. But watching him learn and grow is truly amazing. I've found I remember a lot more than I've forgotten about raising kids, and I hope that Kayla and Bobby can say that I've kept my mouth shut when I needed to, and let them be the parents. And while no one is 100% perfect as a new parent, Kayla has grown into the role even better than I'd hoped. Bobby's been there before with his 6-year-old daughter Aaliyah, and his moderating influence can be seen in Markus' upbringing as well.
This Christmas season, we're thankful to have Andy back from Iraq, where he spent last Christmas at Camp Stryker. And when Andy and Jennifer came in this past weekend from their home in Savannah, GA, they surprised us with the news that we'll have another grandchild, either Ella or Eli, joining the family around the end of June or the first of July. And while we already miss Andy's cats, Toby and Othakitti, who left with Andy and Jennifer to make their new home in Georgia, we know that our new grandchild will have a couple of built-in companions who'll be attentive to his/her every cry, laugh, or burp...as they've been with Markus over the past year.
This Christmas season, we're thankful that Mamaw Turley will be home to share the holiday with us. At age 97, while we've noticed that she's not quite as steady on her feet as she was not so long ago, we're thankful that we'll have one more opportunity to gather the family and share the holidays with her. Lots of families don't have opportunities like this, and I hope that we cherish this one as much as we should.
This Christmas season, Sherry and I are spending a lot more time in the kitchen making all sorts of special holiday treats. Sherry and I made a couple of batches of her mother's no-bake fruitcake, and I think Helen would've been proud of the outcome. Over the last few years, I've been making and giving away loaves of Pappy's beer bread for the holidays. I know how much pride he took in his beer bread, and I hope I'm carrying on the tradition in much the same spirit in which he did. Sherry and I have also been baking and sharing loaves of Amish cinnamon bread, but sometimes waiting the 10 days for the starter to "finish" makes me feel...well, like a kid at Christmas season. And tonight Sherry and I are trying our hand at making bourbon balls for the first time. We'll know how that one turns out sometime tomorrow, but the preliminary results are quite encouraging. And after being moderately successful with the sweet potato pie I made for Thanksgiving, I'm considering making one for our family Christmas get-together as well. In years past, we used to count on other folks to make the holiday goodies; now that we have grandchildren of our own, it's starting to dawn on me that it's going to be up to my generation to make the seasonal treats that the kids of all ages look forward to year after year.
And this Christmas season, we're thankful for all our friends who have given us support and encouragement when we've needed it, who've shared our burdens when we needed help, who've sent a joke or a thoughtful message when we've needed a lift, and who've pretty much just been there when we needed someone to ask "How's it going?" We realize that without our friends, and without our families, this would be a pretty bleak existence. So if you receive this message, know that we appreciate you for who you are and what you do...even if we don't see, call, or email one another as often as we probably should.
This Christmas season...may we all once again find all the hope and joy and wonder that we all knew when we were kids, and may the Christmas season be magical for you and your loved ones once again this year. And may God richly bless you in the coming year with companionship, love, laughter and all that's important in life.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Toothless Tiger Roars At Russia
Over the past few weeks I've noticed something about the UnitedStates that scares the bejeezus out of me. It concerns the Russian invasion of the soverign state of Georgia, and the tepid response from America. I believe I know why the US response was as it is, and the answer relates to the military deployments in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Russia is no longer the large player in world affairs that it was during the Cold War years, but that's not to say that they're the weakest kid on the block, either. But the US is supposed to be the strongest kid on the block. You just wouldn't know it from the lukewarm response the Russian military misadventure earned.
Look to the more recent past...Ronald Reagan's military intervention in Grenada, or even George H. W. Bush [Bush41]'s response to the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait. American troops were sent in to restore things as they had been, and the message delivered to the world was that the US was ready, willing, and able to defend smaller countries from aggressive neighbors.
Now contrast this with our response to the Russian invasion of Georgia: Secretary of State Condaleeza Rice has protested Russia's actions, but that's as far as it's going to go. Why? Because the US military is already overextended in Iraq and Afghanistan, and there aren't enough troops available to enforce what's right.
So the US can't be the world's policeman. Maybe we shouldn't have tried to assume that role to begin with, because it's simply too big a pair of shoes to be filled by any one country. Apparently NATO is content to sit back and watch what happens as well. In the meantime, Russia is allowed to destroy the Republic of Georgia piecemeal, splitting away two regions on either side of Georgia, while continuing a military presence in Georgia's primary port city.
What all this reveals to the world about America's military vulnerability should scare the hell out of Americans. We have units of the National Guard and the Army Reserve and the Marines on their fifth and sixth deployments to the Iraq and Afghanistan conflicts, and lots of equipment that is being worn out there and not being replaced at home when the units return stateside. And troops are getting burned out and not reenlisting, having had enough of being shipped out over and over again as full-time soldiers for what they understood would be a part-time committment when they originally signed up for the Guard and Reserves.
Truth be told, the next US president is going to be faced with some politically suicidal choices. Tax revenues neeed to increase to start working toward elimination of the annual budget deficit, a move that would go a long, long way toward strengthening the dollar. [And if we can't get the annual budgets under control, there's no use even thinking about the national debt, which is also burdening the beleaguered buck.] Another area that will pose a political hazard is the beefing up and staffing of the weary US military. A draft might become necessary, simply to put enough "warm bodies" into uniform to keep our nation safe. [While I don't advocate reinstatement of a military draft, if I'm going to be honest I must consider the fact that we may not have a choice in the next few years.]
But for now, all the US can do with Russia is to tell them they've been bad, and they shouldn't have gone into Georgia, and they need to stop it. And Russia, recognizing the US as the toothless tiger that we've become, will ignore us and do whatever they want to their neighbors.
Russia is no longer the large player in world affairs that it was during the Cold War years, but that's not to say that they're the weakest kid on the block, either. But the US is supposed to be the strongest kid on the block. You just wouldn't know it from the lukewarm response the Russian military misadventure earned.
Look to the more recent past...Ronald Reagan's military intervention in Grenada, or even George H. W. Bush [Bush41]'s response to the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait. American troops were sent in to restore things as they had been, and the message delivered to the world was that the US was ready, willing, and able to defend smaller countries from aggressive neighbors.
Now contrast this with our response to the Russian invasion of Georgia: Secretary of State Condaleeza Rice has protested Russia's actions, but that's as far as it's going to go. Why? Because the US military is already overextended in Iraq and Afghanistan, and there aren't enough troops available to enforce what's right.
So the US can't be the world's policeman. Maybe we shouldn't have tried to assume that role to begin with, because it's simply too big a pair of shoes to be filled by any one country. Apparently NATO is content to sit back and watch what happens as well. In the meantime, Russia is allowed to destroy the Republic of Georgia piecemeal, splitting away two regions on either side of Georgia, while continuing a military presence in Georgia's primary port city.
What all this reveals to the world about America's military vulnerability should scare the hell out of Americans. We have units of the National Guard and the Army Reserve and the Marines on their fifth and sixth deployments to the Iraq and Afghanistan conflicts, and lots of equipment that is being worn out there and not being replaced at home when the units return stateside. And troops are getting burned out and not reenlisting, having had enough of being shipped out over and over again as full-time soldiers for what they understood would be a part-time committment when they originally signed up for the Guard and Reserves.
Truth be told, the next US president is going to be faced with some politically suicidal choices. Tax revenues neeed to increase to start working toward elimination of the annual budget deficit, a move that would go a long, long way toward strengthening the dollar. [And if we can't get the annual budgets under control, there's no use even thinking about the national debt, which is also burdening the beleaguered buck.] Another area that will pose a political hazard is the beefing up and staffing of the weary US military. A draft might become necessary, simply to put enough "warm bodies" into uniform to keep our nation safe. [While I don't advocate reinstatement of a military draft, if I'm going to be honest I must consider the fact that we may not have a choice in the next few years.]
But for now, all the US can do with Russia is to tell them they've been bad, and they shouldn't have gone into Georgia, and they need to stop it. And Russia, recognizing the US as the toothless tiger that we've become, will ignore us and do whatever they want to their neighbors.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Is This War Really Necessary?
Is the war in Iraq critical to the survival of the United States of America?
That’s a simple yes-or-no question. Either the war in Iraq is critical to the survival of the United States, or it isn’t. There should be no shades of gray here; either the war in Iraq affects the long-term survival of the United States, or it doesn’t.
How do YOU answer that question?
If the war in Iraq IS critical to the survival of the United States, then we’re certainly doing a halfhearted effort of ensuring our nation’s survival. That’s not a reflection on our troops, who are doing what they’re ordered and putting their lives on the line every day. But it is a reflection on how much emphasis our national leaders are putting on the outcome of the war in Iraq.
If the survival of the United States hinges on winning the war in Iraq, then our leaders should be pouring immense amounts of men and materials into Iraq. We should have the kind of effort in Iraq that our nation expended in World War II, the last was that truly did have the survival of the United States in the balance.
If we fought the war in Iraq the way we fought World War II, we would’ve already secured the borders of Iraq so that no terrorists could come or go at will, and so that no materials used to make bombs or IED’s could cross into Iraq from any other country. We would’ve done house-to house searches in every square inch of Iraq, to ensure that no insurgent arms were anywhere in the country. This is a nation not much larger than some of our western states, so that sort of security should have been easy in the 5+ years we’ve been there.
If the war in Iraq was critical to the survival of the United States, why isn’t the entire nation under martial law, at least until all the power grid and the oil pipelines are 100% secure from disruptions? In WWII, that would’ve been easy enough to do, and in some areas was done.
If the war in Iraq is critical to the survival of the United States, then why doesn’t the U. S. military have enough troops to go in and take over the country until the fledgling Iraqi government is strong enough to rule effectively? For that matter, if the war in Iraq is critical to the survival of the United States, why aren’t the young people who believe this way standing in line to volunteer to fight for the United States’ very survival? Why are our forces at the breaking point, or at least at the point of physical and mental exhaustion because of multiple tours of duty, and tours that have been extended because of a lack of trained replacement troops? Why aren’t the parents who believe that the war in Iraq is critical to the survival of the United States not persuading their sons and daughters to join the military and fight for the survival of the United States of America?
Perhaps I’m taking too much for granted here. Perhaps I’ve simply assumed your answer to my initial question. Perhaps your answer was that the war in Iraq is NOT critical to the survival of the United States. If that is, indeed, your answer, then I have another question: If the war in Iraq is NOT critical to the survival of the United States of America, then WHY are American soldiers and Marines being sacrificed to this cause? Did the President simply take America to war on a whim? War is serious, folks; and dead is permanent, as far as this physical life is concerned. I believe that we have no right to sacrifice one American life on any foreign battlefield unless the safety and security and the very survival of our nation is NOT at stake.
I understand that emergency responders such as police and firemen and EMT’s risk life and limb every day within our borders in an effort to preserve our safety and to preserve order, and they make their contribution on a daily basis, essentially, so that the United States of America and our way of life can continue to survive. And I applaud and fully support their efforts. I also support our troops, because the enlisted men and women and their officers are doing what their orders tell them to do, and I don’t want to even attempt to diminish the contribution they make simply because they are asked by our leaders to do so.
But when our soldiers and sailors and airmen and Marines are sent to risk their very lives for a cause that is NOT essential to the long-term survival of our nation, I question the judgment of the leaders who sent them there. Wars should never be entered on a whim. And if our troops ARE fighting for the very survival of our nation, I would also question the judgment of the leaders who would fail to pledge to our men and women in uniform that, whenever they are sent into battle, that they should go with the sufficient materiel and numbers of personnel necessary to secure their objective completely, and as quickly as possible.
Either the war in Iraq IS necessary to the survival of the United States of America, and the leaders in Washington have botched the job of providing the personnel and materiel necessary to quickly and efficiently ensure that goal; OR the war in Iraq is NOT necessary to the survival of our nation, and our military presence there is ill-advised and those who sent our troops there have caused the unnecessary shedding of blood of American troops…for which our leaders should be greatly ashamed. The life of an American in uniform is sacred, and as we approach this Memorial Day 2008, I believe that any leader who would risk the life of even ONE American soldier, sailor, airman, or Marine, either for a cause not connected to the survival of our nation, or by prolonging a war by not providing enough troops and materiel to win in the most efficient manner possible, should hang his head in shame and beg God for mercy on his soul, for the blood on his hands.
That’s a simple yes-or-no question. Either the war in Iraq is critical to the survival of the United States, or it isn’t. There should be no shades of gray here; either the war in Iraq affects the long-term survival of the United States, or it doesn’t.
How do YOU answer that question?
If the war in Iraq IS critical to the survival of the United States, then we’re certainly doing a halfhearted effort of ensuring our nation’s survival. That’s not a reflection on our troops, who are doing what they’re ordered and putting their lives on the line every day. But it is a reflection on how much emphasis our national leaders are putting on the outcome of the war in Iraq.
If the survival of the United States hinges on winning the war in Iraq, then our leaders should be pouring immense amounts of men and materials into Iraq. We should have the kind of effort in Iraq that our nation expended in World War II, the last was that truly did have the survival of the United States in the balance.
If we fought the war in Iraq the way we fought World War II, we would’ve already secured the borders of Iraq so that no terrorists could come or go at will, and so that no materials used to make bombs or IED’s could cross into Iraq from any other country. We would’ve done house-to house searches in every square inch of Iraq, to ensure that no insurgent arms were anywhere in the country. This is a nation not much larger than some of our western states, so that sort of security should have been easy in the 5+ years we’ve been there.
If the war in Iraq was critical to the survival of the United States, why isn’t the entire nation under martial law, at least until all the power grid and the oil pipelines are 100% secure from disruptions? In WWII, that would’ve been easy enough to do, and in some areas was done.
If the war in Iraq is critical to the survival of the United States, then why doesn’t the U. S. military have enough troops to go in and take over the country until the fledgling Iraqi government is strong enough to rule effectively? For that matter, if the war in Iraq is critical to the survival of the United States, why aren’t the young people who believe this way standing in line to volunteer to fight for the United States’ very survival? Why are our forces at the breaking point, or at least at the point of physical and mental exhaustion because of multiple tours of duty, and tours that have been extended because of a lack of trained replacement troops? Why aren’t the parents who believe that the war in Iraq is critical to the survival of the United States not persuading their sons and daughters to join the military and fight for the survival of the United States of America?
Perhaps I’m taking too much for granted here. Perhaps I’ve simply assumed your answer to my initial question. Perhaps your answer was that the war in Iraq is NOT critical to the survival of the United States. If that is, indeed, your answer, then I have another question: If the war in Iraq is NOT critical to the survival of the United States of America, then WHY are American soldiers and Marines being sacrificed to this cause? Did the President simply take America to war on a whim? War is serious, folks; and dead is permanent, as far as this physical life is concerned. I believe that we have no right to sacrifice one American life on any foreign battlefield unless the safety and security and the very survival of our nation is NOT at stake.
I understand that emergency responders such as police and firemen and EMT’s risk life and limb every day within our borders in an effort to preserve our safety and to preserve order, and they make their contribution on a daily basis, essentially, so that the United States of America and our way of life can continue to survive. And I applaud and fully support their efforts. I also support our troops, because the enlisted men and women and their officers are doing what their orders tell them to do, and I don’t want to even attempt to diminish the contribution they make simply because they are asked by our leaders to do so.
But when our soldiers and sailors and airmen and Marines are sent to risk their very lives for a cause that is NOT essential to the long-term survival of our nation, I question the judgment of the leaders who sent them there. Wars should never be entered on a whim. And if our troops ARE fighting for the very survival of our nation, I would also question the judgment of the leaders who would fail to pledge to our men and women in uniform that, whenever they are sent into battle, that they should go with the sufficient materiel and numbers of personnel necessary to secure their objective completely, and as quickly as possible.
Either the war in Iraq IS necessary to the survival of the United States of America, and the leaders in Washington have botched the job of providing the personnel and materiel necessary to quickly and efficiently ensure that goal; OR the war in Iraq is NOT necessary to the survival of our nation, and our military presence there is ill-advised and those who sent our troops there have caused the unnecessary shedding of blood of American troops…for which our leaders should be greatly ashamed. The life of an American in uniform is sacred, and as we approach this Memorial Day 2008, I believe that any leader who would risk the life of even ONE American soldier, sailor, airman, or Marine, either for a cause not connected to the survival of our nation, or by prolonging a war by not providing enough troops and materiel to win in the most efficient manner possible, should hang his head in shame and beg God for mercy on his soul, for the blood on his hands.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Is It Just ME ??
Is it just me??
Am I the only one?
Or do some of you out there feel it too?
I'm talking about the feeling I get when I'm sent the emails, one after another, day after day, and sometimes several in the same day. The emails telling me about how proud these people are of our Soldiers and Sailors and Marines who are serving in some faraway hell-hole, laying their lives on the line for our way of life.
I don't think you quite understand yet.
These people feel that if we don't support 100% of what our sometimes clueless leaders do, and where they send these young warriors, then we are lesser Americans, less patriotic than they. They apparently don't understand just how much I really do support our troops, including my own son who just returned from a tour of duty in Iraq a few weeks back.
But then maybe it is I who doesn't understand.
I don't understand the self-righteousness of these people, whose own sons and daughters are too busy going to college or making their first million or simply drinking beer and making babies to be a part of our fighting forces. I don't understand how they can see me as being less patriotic than they are, when it's my own son, my firstborn, flesh of my flesh, who volunteered and filled that spot in our military, so that THEIR son or daughter didn't have to "waste" a year of their life, a year apparently better spent climbing the ladder in corporate America.
Oh, I know very well that my son volunteered to join the military. And I know that my son has made a choice, the same as their son or daughter. But I don't understand why these people can't see this in the same context as the relative commitment of the chicken and the pig in their Egg McMuffin in the morning. Their situation is comparable to the chicken, who is merely involved in bringing you your breakfast, whereas the pig is committed.
So I guess it's all right, then, if these folks look upon my son--and, by extension, me--as the pigs when it comes to supporting our troops...as long as they accept that they deserve to be called the chickens that they are.
I think I've earned the right, through my son's service to our country, to resent the implication of their self-righteous "patriotism" via email...as their own sons and daughters are too busy, too important, or too valuable to corporate America to defend our nation. In my point of view, these people don't have a dog in this fight. They DO have a stake in the outcome of the war in Iraq, but only to the same extent that all Americans do. If they had a son or daughter who'd served, them I might be open to the idea that they have a right to preach patriotism to anyone else.
Now I have friends and relatives who DO have sons and daughters who are serving in the military, and who have served in Iraq. Oddly enough, they are the ones who DON'T feel the need to preach patriotism. NO, I only get those self-righteous emails from the folks whose sons and daughters are too busy to get involved in the military, and who therefore [in MY view] have the LEAST reason to preach patriotism.
Am I out of line to feel this way?
Am I the only one?
Or do some of you out there feel it too?
I'm talking about the feeling I get when I'm sent the emails, one after another, day after day, and sometimes several in the same day. The emails telling me about how proud these people are of our Soldiers and Sailors and Marines who are serving in some faraway hell-hole, laying their lives on the line for our way of life.
I don't think you quite understand yet.
These people feel that if we don't support 100% of what our sometimes clueless leaders do, and where they send these young warriors, then we are lesser Americans, less patriotic than they. They apparently don't understand just how much I really do support our troops, including my own son who just returned from a tour of duty in Iraq a few weeks back.
But then maybe it is I who doesn't understand.
I don't understand the self-righteousness of these people, whose own sons and daughters are too busy going to college or making their first million or simply drinking beer and making babies to be a part of our fighting forces. I don't understand how they can see me as being less patriotic than they are, when it's my own son, my firstborn, flesh of my flesh, who volunteered and filled that spot in our military, so that THEIR son or daughter didn't have to "waste" a year of their life, a year apparently better spent climbing the ladder in corporate America.
Oh, I know very well that my son volunteered to join the military. And I know that my son has made a choice, the same as their son or daughter. But I don't understand why these people can't see this in the same context as the relative commitment of the chicken and the pig in their Egg McMuffin in the morning. Their situation is comparable to the chicken, who is merely involved in bringing you your breakfast, whereas the pig is committed.
So I guess it's all right, then, if these folks look upon my son--and, by extension, me--as the pigs when it comes to supporting our troops...as long as they accept that they deserve to be called the chickens that they are.
I think I've earned the right, through my son's service to our country, to resent the implication of their self-righteous "patriotism" via email...as their own sons and daughters are too busy, too important, or too valuable to corporate America to defend our nation. In my point of view, these people don't have a dog in this fight. They DO have a stake in the outcome of the war in Iraq, but only to the same extent that all Americans do. If they had a son or daughter who'd served, them I might be open to the idea that they have a right to preach patriotism to anyone else.
Now I have friends and relatives who DO have sons and daughters who are serving in the military, and who have served in Iraq. Oddly enough, they are the ones who DON'T feel the need to preach patriotism. NO, I only get those self-righteous emails from the folks whose sons and daughters are too busy to get involved in the military, and who therefore [in MY view] have the LEAST reason to preach patriotism.
Am I out of line to feel this way?
Friday, April 4, 2008
40 Years Later...Dr. King DID Make A Difference
As I write this, today is the 40th anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. In the past 40 years America has come a long way towards a society in which equality is more than just the inspiration for an "I have a dream" speech. But to understand where we are today, we need to know where we've come from.
I was born and grew up in Corydon, Indiana, and the Supreme Court decision in Brown v. Board of Education and I both came into this world in 1954. I entered first grade in what was then called "the Annex," but which had been the old one-room "colored school" on Summit Street. There weren't many black children in the entire county, but I didn't have a problem with being in the same classroom with them. I don't claim any points for righteousness for that fact; it's just that, up to that point, I hadn't been taught to hate anyone.
But that's not to say that there weren't any prejudices in our little town. The hill on Beechmont Drive in South Corydon, where many of the blacks in the community lived, was more commonly called "Nigger Hill." Even into the late 1970's, when the Indian Creek Convalescent Center was built at the intersection of Harrison Drive and Beechmont Drive, the name lingered; the whispered nickname of the convalescent center was NHNH, or "Nigger Hill Nursing Home." Old habits die hard, I suppose...but at least the words were being whispered, and not shouted as they might have been a couple of decades before.
I remember a story my grandfather told of Brother Hodge, a black minister who had conducted a tent revival at the local fairgrounds. The services had lasted well into the evening, and as Brother Hodge began walking home, he found himself surrounded by a number of white men, some of whom may have meant him some physical harm. "Brother Hodge," one of the whites asked him, "do you believe you're going to heaven when you die?" Brother Hodge, aware of his situation, answered, "Yessir, I do believe I'm goin' to Heaven--but I'm in no hurry!" The laughing crowd, I was told, dispersed as quickly as it had formed.
When I was growing up, there were other blacks in the community who did their part to fight racial stereotypes by simply being part of the fabric of society. They bought homes and cars and trucks, they worked respected and respectable jobs, they didn't get into trouble fighting and drinking and gambling and stealing. They didn't work at being anything but good, honest citizens...and in Corydon, they were generally allowed to do so without being singled out as being "uppity," or as not knowing their "place" in society. They bought groceries at the same two stores as the white folks, and paid the same prices as the white folks. They were simply our friends and our neighbors.
As far as relations with the black students in our school went, they were very much part of the gang. We were in Boy Scouts together, and we camped and swam and hiked and ate and joked around together. We played sports together, and they were our friends. It was the out-of-town blacks, the ones that were rioting and looting in Watts and Detroit and other distant places we knew about only from the nightly news programs, who were the "niggers." Our fellow students, we had discovered, were just like everyone else. It made no difference whether you were black or white, we all still sweated out Mr. Fluhr's algebra tests and Mrs. Elam's English class, and Mrs. Enlow's geography tests and Mr. Windell's chemistry class and Mr. Cato's government class. We were all chasing after the American Dream, and we were all trying to figure out where we fit into a world that we didn't make, but one we'd all surely inherit.
I realize now that it was probably a lot harder for our black classmates to find that spot, in a world where some folks still looked down upon you because of your race. As a kid I was too caught up in my own struggles to be accepted to give much thought to the struggles of anyone else. But I always tried to judge folks by "the content of their character," in Dr. King's words, rather judge them by the color of their skin, because I always got along better with a friendly, helpful person who just happened to be black than I ever did with someone who was consistently a jerk but who happened to be white..
Now, I wasn't any kind of a saint while I was growing up. I was a reflection of the society around me, and I occasionally said hurtful things to my friends...and that included my black friends as well as my white friends. While I'd like to go back and erase all the wrong things I've ever done, I have tried to apologize for any time my ignorance led me to heartlessness. I can't totally undo or unsay the wrongs that I've committed, but I've tried to "go and sin no more," as Jesus Christ admonished those he forgave a couple of thousand years ago.
Perhaps the blacks who grew up in my generation have a radically different point of view than mine. The 1960's and early 1970's weren't easy for any of us, and dealing with the backlash from whites who watched their nightly news and read their newspapers --and who decided that "these niggers are all the same"--couldn't have been easy. I wish now I'd have been less self-absorbed, and more attuned to their struggles. But it's simply not the nature of kids and teenagers to think of the universe as being centered anywhere away from the self, and I was no different. That doesn't absolve me of guilt; it just makes me a typical kid when I was growing up.
Dr. King didn't come to our community and march or preach. But his words were carried by the national media, and there was a ripple effect even in our small town. His admonitions about our Christian duties toward our fellowman left a mark on all but the hardest of hearts, and we began to see the blacks among us were our friends, our neighbors, and our fellow Americans, and just as deserving of a chance at the American Dream as any of us who weren't born black. Our town wasn't alone, and in similar small towns across America the same realization began to occur.
As a nation, we have come a long way. Forty years ago blacks were just beginning to come to the polls to vote, with longtime roadblocks like poll taxes and restrictive voter registration laws keeping them from exercising the right to vote. Today a black candidate is a legitimate contender for the presidency of this nation. It is a direct result of the efforts of people like Dr. King and his dream of equal opportunity. In the 1960's it was hard to imagine a black having the opportunity to attend an esteemed institution such as Harvard; on January 20, 2009 a Harvard graduate who just happens to be black may be taking the oath of the highest office in the land. If that does come to pass, I can imagine that Dr. King may be somewhere smiling, knowing that his dream has come to fruition and that perhaps the discrimination and bias of Dr. King's era will remain buried within the pages of history.
For the sake of the next generation of Americans, I sincerely hope and pray that equal opportunity continues to bear positive fruit within this great nation, and that a return to the discrimination of the past is unthinkable.
I was born and grew up in Corydon, Indiana, and the Supreme Court decision in Brown v. Board of Education and I both came into this world in 1954. I entered first grade in what was then called "the Annex," but which had been the old one-room "colored school" on Summit Street. There weren't many black children in the entire county, but I didn't have a problem with being in the same classroom with them. I don't claim any points for righteousness for that fact; it's just that, up to that point, I hadn't been taught to hate anyone.
But that's not to say that there weren't any prejudices in our little town. The hill on Beechmont Drive in South Corydon, where many of the blacks in the community lived, was more commonly called "Nigger Hill." Even into the late 1970's, when the Indian Creek Convalescent Center was built at the intersection of Harrison Drive and Beechmont Drive, the name lingered; the whispered nickname of the convalescent center was NHNH, or "Nigger Hill Nursing Home." Old habits die hard, I suppose...but at least the words were being whispered, and not shouted as they might have been a couple of decades before.
I remember a story my grandfather told of Brother Hodge, a black minister who had conducted a tent revival at the local fairgrounds. The services had lasted well into the evening, and as Brother Hodge began walking home, he found himself surrounded by a number of white men, some of whom may have meant him some physical harm. "Brother Hodge," one of the whites asked him, "do you believe you're going to heaven when you die?" Brother Hodge, aware of his situation, answered, "Yessir, I do believe I'm goin' to Heaven--but I'm in no hurry!" The laughing crowd, I was told, dispersed as quickly as it had formed.
When I was growing up, there were other blacks in the community who did their part to fight racial stereotypes by simply being part of the fabric of society. They bought homes and cars and trucks, they worked respected and respectable jobs, they didn't get into trouble fighting and drinking and gambling and stealing. They didn't work at being anything but good, honest citizens...and in Corydon, they were generally allowed to do so without being singled out as being "uppity," or as not knowing their "place" in society. They bought groceries at the same two stores as the white folks, and paid the same prices as the white folks. They were simply our friends and our neighbors.
As far as relations with the black students in our school went, they were very much part of the gang. We were in Boy Scouts together, and we camped and swam and hiked and ate and joked around together. We played sports together, and they were our friends. It was the out-of-town blacks, the ones that were rioting and looting in Watts and Detroit and other distant places we knew about only from the nightly news programs, who were the "niggers." Our fellow students, we had discovered, were just like everyone else. It made no difference whether you were black or white, we all still sweated out Mr. Fluhr's algebra tests and Mrs. Elam's English class, and Mrs. Enlow's geography tests and Mr. Windell's chemistry class and Mr. Cato's government class. We were all chasing after the American Dream, and we were all trying to figure out where we fit into a world that we didn't make, but one we'd all surely inherit.
I realize now that it was probably a lot harder for our black classmates to find that spot, in a world where some folks still looked down upon you because of your race. As a kid I was too caught up in my own struggles to be accepted to give much thought to the struggles of anyone else. But I always tried to judge folks by "the content of their character," in Dr. King's words, rather judge them by the color of their skin, because I always got along better with a friendly, helpful person who just happened to be black than I ever did with someone who was consistently a jerk but who happened to be white..
Now, I wasn't any kind of a saint while I was growing up. I was a reflection of the society around me, and I occasionally said hurtful things to my friends...and that included my black friends as well as my white friends. While I'd like to go back and erase all the wrong things I've ever done, I have tried to apologize for any time my ignorance led me to heartlessness. I can't totally undo or unsay the wrongs that I've committed, but I've tried to "go and sin no more," as Jesus Christ admonished those he forgave a couple of thousand years ago.
Perhaps the blacks who grew up in my generation have a radically different point of view than mine. The 1960's and early 1970's weren't easy for any of us, and dealing with the backlash from whites who watched their nightly news and read their newspapers --and who decided that "these niggers are all the same"--couldn't have been easy. I wish now I'd have been less self-absorbed, and more attuned to their struggles. But it's simply not the nature of kids and teenagers to think of the universe as being centered anywhere away from the self, and I was no different. That doesn't absolve me of guilt; it just makes me a typical kid when I was growing up.
Dr. King didn't come to our community and march or preach. But his words were carried by the national media, and there was a ripple effect even in our small town. His admonitions about our Christian duties toward our fellowman left a mark on all but the hardest of hearts, and we began to see the blacks among us were our friends, our neighbors, and our fellow Americans, and just as deserving of a chance at the American Dream as any of us who weren't born black. Our town wasn't alone, and in similar small towns across America the same realization began to occur.
As a nation, we have come a long way. Forty years ago blacks were just beginning to come to the polls to vote, with longtime roadblocks like poll taxes and restrictive voter registration laws keeping them from exercising the right to vote. Today a black candidate is a legitimate contender for the presidency of this nation. It is a direct result of the efforts of people like Dr. King and his dream of equal opportunity. In the 1960's it was hard to imagine a black having the opportunity to attend an esteemed institution such as Harvard; on January 20, 2009 a Harvard graduate who just happens to be black may be taking the oath of the highest office in the land. If that does come to pass, I can imagine that Dr. King may be somewhere smiling, knowing that his dream has come to fruition and that perhaps the discrimination and bias of Dr. King's era will remain buried within the pages of history.
For the sake of the next generation of Americans, I sincerely hope and pray that equal opportunity continues to bear positive fruit within this great nation, and that a return to the discrimination of the past is unthinkable.
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