Monday, September 21, 2009

Long Days Do End

Today, sometime between 12:41 and 12:53 pm, I hit a Lexus. When I saw the car, it was already too late and "crunch," I smacked right into the front of this right turning vehicle. I backed up slowly, hoping that the damage was so minimal that this would be a "it's ok, no damage" type thing, but to no avail. My front headlight was shattered and the drivers side slightly bent, and the Lexus' sported a scratches and my bumper's periwinkle blue paint.

Thankfully I was going less than 5 miles per hour, and I was in the parking lot at my company. Aside from the sheer embarrassment and frustration generally associated with accidents, the only harm done was to the vehicles. Neither one of us sustained any physical injury.

Ironically the person with whom this accident happened was the same person I walked into the building with this morning, had engaged in conversation with on the ride up the elevator, and had bid a "have a good day" as I exited on my floor.

What's even funnier in the context of today's story is the necessity that prompted my lunchtime excursion outside of my building in the first place: lunch. I had just spent my "lunch" hour in a safety training with the company's training director. Not having read over the entire announcement for the training, I didn't realize that lunch was not being served. So after hearing about how much safety costs companies who do not have great programs in place, I thought I would slip out to grab a bite before getting back to work. Too bad my 10 minute quick trip turned into an hour and a half lesson in ____________.

*(I still hadn't figured this out... maybe you could help me- I thought maybe it could be related to the can of soup i didn't want to eat at my desk, or perhaps my internal debate about going out in the rain, hadn't gotten an answer yet.)

At any rate, there we stood in the rain, waiting on the Jefferson County police to come file a report. Did I mention the Lexus was a loaner from the dealership as their care was in the shop for servicing... another unforeseen circumstance. We chopped it up with each other, with the security guard, until we fell into silence, waiting for the police officer to return with our licenses and insurance cards. (Yes, I took pictures with my phone... Gwen, that's for you... you knew it didn't you... hahahaha)

Being that I had already been a little weepy from the morning, I shed a tear or two in the car, mostly out of frustration, but remembered something Amy Grant said in her book Mosaic about her daily morning affirmation. Each morning she goes outside and says "this is the day that the Lord has made. This is the day, not tomorrow, not yesterday, this day, right now, that i'm standing in, is the day the Lord has made... and I will rejoice in it." And it came up in my spirit, so I repeated it to myself, over and over and over, emphasizing different parts of the scripture like she says she did, in an effort to reverse the negative feelings that were quickly creeping up.

And just to be transparent, I felt a hint of self pity, and probably wallowed in it for just a second, the whole "why me?" question we sometimes ask. But just as quickly as that thought came, my spirit told me to look for the lesson. What was too be gained from this? Now that I have not yet ascertained, but I know it will reveal itself in time.

As if that weren't enough, this evening when I got to class, I realized I did not have my book, and we were doing a major in class writing assignment that I needed to use my book as a reference. Talk about panic! As I scanned the room, I saw every person in there, book opened to the reference page, whispered to the girl next to me that I didn't have mine. Her face told her disbelief and sorrow for me. In the next second, I settled within myself that this may just have to be the writing assignment the instructor throws out, and prayed that I would have what I needed without the book to at least complete the assignment. Thankfully I did have enough information to write somewhat intelligently about the topic.

So in the ending of a LONG, rather eventful, somewhat disappointing day, I feel the need to redeem it through affirmations of gratefulness for good things that happened during the day.

Things that happened today that I'm thankful for:
  • my coworker and the security guard gave me lunch money (free lunch! HA!)
  • when I returned (after the accident) from getting lunch, there was a close parking space so i didn't have to walk far in the rain
  • I had a chance to talk to my best friend before class
  • I learned that any safety accident on a job is pure loss because estimators do not include it in their estimates for bids.
  • that God's love is spread to kids in the Dominican Republic from sweet ladies who didn't necessarily want to go up and sponsor a child, but did anyway and is loving the fact that she did
  • when we lose babies and feel great loss and sadness, we can find some comfort in knowing they are resting in the arms of God
  • my life, it could have been worse.
  • that when I see President Barack Obama on tv, like on David Letterman, I get excited again and relive the joy that came from him being elected Commander in Chief. He's just so "cool"
  • that I am in love with a wonderful person (something I wasn't sure I would ever experience)
  • that people still give hugs and still sympathize with one another
  • In less than 5 days, i will be in the same room as Maya Angelou.

So at 12:07 AM, yesterday was over 7 minutes ago and when I wake up, it's already a new day.

Thank you Lord!

Thursday, September 17, 2009

You've Got to Be Carefully Taught




Today, as I was listening to some of my favorite soundtracks, Roger & Hammerstein's South Pacific soundtrack began playing in the rotation. Being a fan of the big bang sound, this is one of the funniest soundtracks I have. As the song list progressed, one in particular caught my attention and I have it on repeat now to hear it again and again.



In the last two years, although full of historic memories, landmark activism and a general waking up of the American people surrounding the electing of President Barack Obama, our country has been thrown into a "washing machine" of sorts and the shaking and twisting has uncovered the hearts of many Americans.



In my own lifetime I have not been so amply and repeatedly exposed to the raw, uncut emotions of our population as I have been in the last two years. The most prevailing emotion I see in the eyes of people and hear in their speech is embedded hate. People aren't born hating, they are taught it. Growing up, we are all taught things; some good, some bad. It's how we grow, know what to do, how to act. So I look at the social climate of our nation and I know this behavior is a symptom of deeper heart problems, something that was sown and took root, in the hearts of these people. I am interested in seeing how the love in creation will address and cover these hearts. But in the meantime, I am not expecting it to get any better. On the contrary, I expect it to get worse.



To that point, the message of the attached song pierced my heart this afternoon with its truth and I am compelled to share with you it's beautifully bittersweet and sobering message. What's funny is that the song is so short, that you might miss it in the rotation. Kind of life the subtle way hate attaches itself to your heart... As you listen, may your own heart reflect on your "teaching" and cause you to revisit what may need to be un-learned from your life conditioning and psychic imprinting.



Lyrics:


You've got to be taught

To hate and fear,

You've got to be taught

From year to year,

It's got to be drummed

In your dear little ear

You've got to be carefully taught.



You've got to be taught to be afraid

Of people whose eyes are oddly made,

And people whose skin is a diff'rent shade,

You've got to be carefully taught.



You've got to be taught before it's too late,

Before you are six or seven or eight,

To hate all the people your relatives hate,

You've got to be carefully taught

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Black In America 2: One Woman's Take on What She Saw

Three observations about last night’s Black in America 2: (Since I was in my car singing with my sister and niece at 8:15 pm on my way home, I only saw the last 5 minutes of the Journey for Change segment of last night’s show. I’ll comment more in depth on that when I see it. But from what I saw, exposure always creates hope and opens doors to places we would otherwise did not think existed. Where have you gone lately and where are you taking your kids?)


1 Steve Perry, a principal of a small magnet school he started, picks up kids to go to his school. Although a small beacon of light in a mostly dismal education dilemma, it is light nonetheless. I appreciate what he's done with what he has. The opportunities he's created for these children and the stern tough love he's shown them. The exposure to college classes by sharing a campus with a community college. The standard that each of them will go to college. It makes a difference.

I cried with the young lady as she awaited hearing if she was going to have a chance to go to college. Her story is a lot of our stories. Even though I did not struggle in my grades in high school, the emotional turmoil of home life made college the furthest thing from my mind my senior year. I was concerned about where I was going to be living for the next year, NOT what college I would attend in the coming fall. I had a senior counselor that all but dropped me off at the school herself in terms of re-focusing my mind on my educational future. Ms. Linda Griffin at E.B. Erwin High School in Center Point, AL was a vessel used to save my life. I tell her every time I see her. Who saved yours? Be sure you thank them.

I found it interesting that even with the success of Dr. Perry’s school and its students, the parental involvement was still SO LOW! What’s going on with some of our parents? How can we engage them in ways that work for them (knowing some are working tirelessly just to provide basic living needs)? Where can I fit in to fill the void of the absent-at-school parents (maybe I can go to the conference for them) for these kids so they have a adult presence who can help in that role? Is there a need for adopted community "people" to take one or two children under their wing to see them through their journey? Definitely something to think about, even for the professionals who do not have children and have the time, emotional and intellectual capital, to invest in these children.

What schools in our community could use some support so they can do what he is doing with these high school kids? Have you looked lately? What are the magnet schools in and around Birmingham? With all the displaced educators in the city, why not start another school with these teachers? The community has the money to fund it, we have just got to start looking under stones. I'm glad to be apart of one solution, the Birmingham Change Fund, because with our combined resources, we are addressing these issues in the Birmingham community. http://www.birminghamchangefund.org/

2 John Rice and his program Management Leadership for Tomorrow (MLT) remind me of INROADS in its execution. Those of you who are INROAD Alums remember the leadership training we went through, especially those intense business breakout sessions where all HADES breaks out (like dealing with a major oil spill in the gulf), much like what we saw on the show. INROADS is the reason I have my job. I’ve been with my company for 6 years (9 including the three summers I interned with them). Great program. I also found out something new about John Legend and it made me smile! How do you get in? Check it out! http://www.ml4t.org/


3 I believe it was my sophomore year in college when my suite mate brought home a book entitled Our Kind of People by Lawrence Otis, Graham to read about the black upper class. (Great read by the way. If you’re a history buff, I know you’ll enjoy it). Numerous conversations ensued behind reading that book about wealth in the black community and the society that existed just above our heads that we had only heard discussed in kitchen conversations between aunts and grandmothers about the “other blacks” who lived in places like Mountain Brook, AL or Hyde Park, IL or Prince George County, MD. I’ll have to add that book to my reading list for the next year.

How interesting to hear last night about the needs of this economic bracket of MY people. It further confirmed Maya Angelou’s saying that “as human beings we are more alike than we are unalike,” and it prompted me to think how too many times we perceive and categorize ourselves and others in ways that separate us instead of bring us together; that divides us rather than unify us.

The Tuxedo Ball they highlighted is the same as the mixers and meet and greets we go to meet people. The bottom line question is how do you create opportunities to build relationships for yourself and others to allow you to live your dream life? I believe we ask ourselves that question all through life. What's your answer?

Overall, I'm looking forward to the conclusion tonight of this much touted documentary. I'm also looking forward to Latino in America, set to air in October of this year. I hope she continues the series for many ethnic groups here in America. I'd want to hear and see, read and understand. I'm sure I'll be better for it.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Life tainted by tragic end: Steve McNair

I heard about Steve McNair from B on Saturday when he received a text message from his friend. I’m saddened and disgusted. This man was phenomenal. Awesome in his own right in his football career, his community service, and leadership, but I can’t even see all that anymore because his girlfriend killed him. So sad. How tragic and unfortunate for his family to have witnessed the end of his life for such a stupid reason.

It reminds me of Proverbs 5 that I just read on Sunday morning:

3-6 The lips of a seductive woman are oh so sweet, her soft words are oh so smooth.But it won't be long before she's gravel in your mouth, a pain in your gut, a wound in your heart.She's dancing down the primrose path to Death; she's headed straight for Hell and taking you with her.She hasn't a clue about Real Life, about who she is or where she's going. 7-14 So, my friend, listen closely; don't treat my words casually.Keep your distance from such a woman; absolutely stay out of her neighborhood.You don't want to squander your wonderful life, to waste your precious life among the hardhearted.Why should you allow strangers to take advantage of you? Why be exploited by those who care nothing for you?You don't want to end your life full of regrets, nothing but sin and bones,Saying, "Oh, why didn't I do what they told me? Why did I reject a disciplined life?Why didn't I listen to my mentors, or take my teachers seriously?My life is ruined! I haven't one blessed thing to show for my life!"


Steve had so many wonderful things to show for his life. His commitment to giving back to the community, his family, his career, all of it is a wonderful story of triumph and success. How many great mens' lives have been brought down by a relationship with an outside woman? It's been going on for ages. My prayers go out to his family and friends. Tell me your thoughts on McNair and his unnecessary death.

29 and Counting: I'm Alive

Hello twenty-nine,



Even the hustle and bustle of morning traffic could not capture my attention as I drove this morning. My heart burst this morning like over filled wine skins, unable to hold more. A heart so full that my body had to adjust to provide a release, so my eyes volunteered and opened tear ducts to relieve the pressure of my heart by spilling its overflow down the profile of my face. Joy and pain find aqueduct paths downstream to the same place, forming a puddle under my chin until the weight of gravity causes individual droplets to splatter softly on my blouse. It’s unexpected, all this spillage, and therefore I have no set plan to make them stop. All morning, at some point or another, they continue to release heart pressure.

“Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair. It’s had tacks in it, and splinters, and boards torn up, and places with no carpet on the floor—bare.” That Langston Hughes is something else. He wrote Mother to Son during a time when life was tougher, harder to manage. This morning is one of those “hard to manage” mornings emotionally. And yes, it’s only 10:25 a.m. But on my way to work, I was reminded that on this day twenty nine years and 9 months ago, my spirit said this to my Creator…



“Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother's
womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking! Body and soul, I am
marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation! You know me inside
and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made,
bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book,
you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were
spread out before you, Your thoughts—how rare, how beautiful! God, I'll never
comprehend them! I couldn't even begin to count them— any more than I could
count the sand of the sea. Oh, let me rise in the morning and live always with
you! The days of my life all
prepared before I'd even lived one day.”
Psalms 139:13-20
Over a lunch of Buffalo Wild Wings (Garlic Parmesan and Honey BBQ), laughter replaced tears and I was reminded of the proverb 15:13 “A cheerful heart brings a smile to your face; a sad heart makes it hard to get through the day.” Coworkers and hot wings definitely lightened my spirits. Friends in other cities called and left messages of well wishes. Surprisingly when I returned home, I found a bath drawn, a queen chair, and loving family waiting to see what I wanted to eat for the evening. Care wrapped itself around me. I was enveloped with love. This celebration began 5 days ago, however, and I must share with you the story of what the days entailed.

Very seldom have I been so overwhelmed that it renders me speechless, but last weekend’s birthday festivities were one for the record books. Friday B & I enjoyed dinner at Nikki’s West, a local soul food restaurant that’s been around since the 1930’s. Afterward, I laughed until I cried at the movie “Hangover.” Saturday was busy, errands and a baby shower, but by 7 pm, the mad dash had ended I prepared to meet B at a rendezvous spot for my “surprise”. To my delight and excitement, we ended up at the BJCC Concert Hall and enjoyed Chrissette Michelle, Musiq Soulchild, and Anthony Hamilton in concert. Talk about a good combination… Anthony took it to church with his rendition of “Praying forYou”, sent goose bumps up my arms with “The Point of it All”, took it back with “Charlene”, and generally put on a great show, all the while nursing a hurt leg first on a cane, then later in the show, with a full set of crutches. It was an awesome evening of great music with a great man.

Even Sunday I had plans to go to t-town to visit with B’s friends, but had to deviate from that plan due to Youth Day at my local assembly. The service was spirited and completely “youth” oriented. Our guest minister Dwayne Thompson was awesome! He was relevant and refreshing and real. After he began ministering I had to slip out, however, to go pick up the cake from Sam’s Club and punch for the refreshments after church. By the time I arrived back at the church, I walked in just in time to give remarks and rush to the fellowship hall to pour juice. It was hot, I was sweating, and after all had been served, I was looking forward to using the rest of my day to take a nap and relax.

Since B had gone on to t-town, I didn’t expect to hear back from him until late that evening. I accompanied my parents and sister to lunch at O’Charley’s. We ran into my aunt and uncle while there and also saw a few church members. We laughed and talked, ate and drank. To my surprise, I got a call from B saying he was on his way back into town and wanted to meet up with me. We made plans to meet at the shopping center not to far from his house. Meeting up at Lowe’s, we leisurely walked through the store. Our next stop was Best Buy, the next, TJ Maxx. When we walked into TJ Maxx, I went to the home section and found a 1000 thread count king size sheet set for $70.00, but didn’t want to get it then. We were there less than 10 minutes when B asked if I was ready to go. I said sure and we got back in the car. Then B turns to me and says “ok, I’m taking you somewhere but you can’t see how to get there. I need you to close your eyes and keep them closed. Do you trust me?” “Yes,” I reply. He thought better of it, said he needed to blindfold me, so he reaches into the back seat and rolls up this huge sweatshirt and covers my eyes. He then leans my seat all the way back so I really can’t see.

My first reaction is excitement. Where the heck is he taking me? Then the questions come: Are you afraid of heights? No. Ok good. Can you swim? Yes. Good, even if you couldn’t I can so you would be good. My second thought is concern. Same question, different sentiment: where the heck is he taking me? I’m thinking we’re going to end up in the woods somewhere near some water. I think that maybe he’s made a special dinner out in the woods. But after a minute I stop trying to guess and just enjoy the moment. I ask him if he’s a psycho and proceed to tell him that if he kills me, my ghost would haunt him the rest of his life and that people would think he was crazy. He laughed and soon the vehicle came to a stop. He came around to my side of the car to get me and he guided me up some steps and I realize we’re at a house when I cross the threshold of the door and feel carpet under my feet. An arm reaches around me from the left and I immediately ask “who is this?” The room erupted in laughter, the blindfold was taken off, and there stood a room full of my loved ones.

E
veryone, and I mean everyone, was there. The first face I saw was my father (it was his arm that wrapped around me). Then my grandmother and aunt (the one i had seen earlier at O'Charleys), my mom, my brother and his wife, and all my close friends, all laughing and clapping and taking pictures. I can’t remember the last time I was completely surprised. I turned to B, hugged and kissed him, then turned around and tried to think of something to say but there was nothing. I was overwhelmed by the people there, my closest friends and family, the effort it took to put the party together, the thought that went into it. When my dad blessed the food, my gratitude poured down my face in tears and I was certain this was yet another way that the Creator was showing me just how much He loved me. I also felt how B loved me. I felt it deep inside, in my core, down in my soul. If I could, I would bottle up that knowing and sell it. Everyone needs to know they are loved like that. Lives would change with that knowing. People would live better with that knowing. Smile more, laugh out loud, dance, and cry, they would feel alive with that knowing. To think the Creator wanted me to experience this knowing in a tangible, pragmatic way is something I will forever remember. It is my prayer each of you experience this too.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

5 and A Half Days til 29: The Day the World Stopped for Music

Tonight, in the quiet of my empty home, I put on a cd of Kevin Singleton, sat back in my computer chair and closed my eyes. Having already washed my face and twisted my hair for the night, I settled back, with nothing to do but to let my heart grieve once again. The last three weeks I've been to more funerals than I have been to in the last 3 years. All of them unexpected, sudden, devastating.

As the tears escape the gate of my eyelids and plummet down the profile of my face, my heart aches. Not just for Michael, the young boy turned man who grew up to become the best entertainer this world has ever had the priviledge of seeing. Not just for the family who entertained the world and kept us dancing for decades. Not just for the children who are left without a father. I cry for the loss of innocence, the loss of a light, the loss of an opportunity for new beginnings.

I thought about the pressure he endured during his life. I only have a small idea of the greater intensity of a life exposed. I have a friend that became famous overnight and I watched him manage the delicate balancing act of his public life and his private life. Difficult to manage. So I multiply that times 1 million because this is the King of Pop. The man who sang lead on "Got to Be There", made us move with "Working Day and Night", grooved us with "Bad", introduced the world to a short film video in "Thriller", wowed us with his smoothness in "Remember the Time", compelled us to look within in "Man in the Mirror"... I mean, I could go on and on and on.

He was our entertainer. We loved him. We shared him with the world because we knew they loved him too.

Watching the deterioration of his life, the bad decisions, the lawsuits, the aesthetic changes, the bizarre behavior with his children, the unexplained reasons for the constant surrounding of children in close quarters, he fell out of my good graces and entered a category with me that I would label "Not sure; but something ain't right." I too judged him, made jokes about his misfortune, disapproved of the too skinny nose, and wondered just what the heck was going on with him.

Then I heard he was going back on tour. I was excited and disappointed. Glad that people in Europe still loved him enough to let him perform and disappointed that my financial resources wouldn't allow me to see him in person. It gave me an indication that perhaps there was still a chance for him to put a troubled 10 years behind him and be seen as the wonderful performer, dancer, entertainer and person he's always been beneath all the ugly situations that had piled on top of him. You know life has a tendency of doing that. Piling ugly things on top of you, some self imposed junk, some unrequested junk, and covers up your light, mutes your voice, and cloaks your presence to shadows. I was hoping this was his come back.

Now this. My friend called me this afternoon at work, very disturbed and anxious, asking had I heard the news about Michael Jackson. Their call caught me off guard and actually I laughed because I had never heard that much care/concern in their voice for someone who wasn't a friend or family member. There was an urgency in their voice for me to take notice, make a mark, remember this day. And as the evening wore on I realized just how much it meant to my friend that their childhood idol, our American Idol before the show exited, had departed us at such a tender age, and so suddenly and unexpectedly. They were grieving. My friend made a statement that is true for everyone. It's important that we remember that people, no matter how perfect we expect them to be, are indeed human. And the best thing you can do for a person is to give them a break and let them be. Let's try to remember this the next time we find ourselves judging and comparing and downing another individual.

Tonight, on the way home, my grief hit me. Some of it was for Michael. But also for Rogers Malbrough, for Kervin King, for Mrs. Bynum, for Pumpkin, and a few others that have passed in the last two weeks.

The world has lost a light... may his music let his life shine on...

In memory of Mike... the one who made me dance and sing out loud... I will continue

6 days til 29: Who's World Is it Anyway?

Yesterday I received an article written by Roland Martin, a nationally syndicated columnist and CNN Contributor, entitled “U.S. should leave Iran alone.” In it, Martin asserts that Obama critics wrongly accuse him of being too cautious with Iran and then proceeds to teach a short history lesson on the history between the US and Iran.

You must read the article: http://www.cnn.com/2009/POLITICS/06/24/martin.obama.iran/index.html

During the article, he references a book "Overthrow: America's Century of Regime Change from Hawaii to Iraq" by Stephen Kinzer. Stephen Kinzer is an author and reporter and veteran New York Times correspondent. (Source: http://www.stephenkinzer.com/)

In it, he writes that the invasion of Iraq “was the culmination of a 110-year period during which Americans overthrew fourteen governments that displeased them for various ideological, political, and economic reasons.
(Source: http://www.democracynow.org/2006/4/21/overthrow_americas_century_of_regime_change)

Being a history buff, my friend went out and purchased the audio book version and conversation about the book ensued in a phone call last evening. He relayed to me the information the book asserted, the first story concerning the overthrow of Kingdom of Hawaiian:

Until the 1890s the Kingdom of Hawaii was an independent sovereign state, recognized by the United States, the United Kingdom, France, Japan, and Germany. Though there were threats to Hawaii's sovereignty throughout the Kingdom's history, it was not until the signing, under duress, of the Bayonet Constitution in 1887, that this threat began to be realized. On January 17, 1893, the last monarch of the Kingdom of Hawaii, Queen Liliuokalani, was deposed in a coup d'état attempting to establish the Constitution of 1893.

The coup left her imprisoned at Lolani Palace house arrest. The sovereignty of the Kingdom of Hawaii was lost to a Provisional Government led by the conspirators, later briefly becoming the Republic of Hawaii, before eventual annexation to the United States in 1898. One hundred years later, the U.S. Congress passed Public Law 103-150, otherwise known as the Apology Resolution, signed by President Bill Clinton on November 23, 1993. The resolution apologized for the U.S. Government's role in supporting the 1893 overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawaii.

The coup d'état that overthrew Queen Liliuokalani was led by Lorrin A. Thurston, a grandson of American missionaries who derived his support primarily from the American and European business class residing in Hawaii and other supporters of the Reform Party of the Hawaiian Kingdom. Most of the leaders of the Committee of Safety, which declared the queen deposed, were Kingdom subjects and included legislators, government officers, and even a Supreme Court Justice of the Hawaiian Kingdom.
(Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Overthrow_of_the_Hawaiian_Kingdom)

Interesting enough, the book goes on to outline “regime change” in many countries that have come at the hand of American hands and funded with American capital to achieve national commerce and political goals. As if American sovereignty in world affairs should take precedence over all else, including the well being of other nations. Don’t get me wrong. I understand that conquest and imperialism has been the story of the world. History, however, has taught us also that all great empires came to an end at some point. Past offenses are usually revisited by children who saw it happen and attempts to settle them usually result in war.

But who gets to say what the world is supposed to look like economically, politically, educationally, spiritually or otherwise?
And what gives them/us the right to impose their will on others?


The immigrants that sailed from England to the New World in search of freedom of choice left Europe because they wanted to do their own thing, right? So how is it that the youngest nation in the world now asserts its freedom by forcing other nations to conform to what we see as “civilized and acceptable”, and those who are doing their own thing, we despise, chastise, and try to convert?

Are we the bratty teenager that thinks they know it all?

It reminds me of a story about Dairy Queen, a sundae, and my mom:
My mom’s idea of a standard ice cream Sundae has ice cream, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, nuts, and a cherry. At Dairy Queen, a standard ice cream sundae is ice cream, chocolate syrup. The deluxe sundae includes whipped cream, nuts, and a cherry. She orders a sundae (with her idea in mind), and they give her a sundae (with their menu item in mind). She observes the absence of whipped cream, nuts and a cherry and points it out to the cashier. The cashier explains there will be an additional charge for those items. My mother, not wanting to pay extra, expresses her idea of a sundae. The cashier explains that her idea is a deluxe and costs more. After several minutes of back and forth banter, talking with the manager, and neither side budging on their “standards”, she decides she does not want to pay the additional 38 cents for her “standard”-their “deluxe”, and leaves upset and not wanting to patronize Dairy Queen again, telling others not to go there.

This story is a good example of how I have viewed the US and foreign relations often times (not always). The US, or western ideology, is like my mom at Dairy Queen, having a personal standard of how things should be and forcing that standard upon others who’s views are different. Then becoming angry and walking away when “they” don’t change how they do things after being “enlightened” about her standard. I’m not a political buff, but since I have been living, I have seen the “Big Bully” move played out several times in our diplomatic relations. Even movies like Swordfish (understandably fiction, but understandably realistic) talks about counter terrorism and give a suggestive view of how we are so protected here in the US. (By the way, I do appreciate the level of protection we enjoy here- or at least the perception of it. I don’t walk outside into a war-torn country or have fear of my city being bombed. I’m grateful for that.)

I love my country. I would not trade my citizenship with anyone outside the US. This is, however, becoming a very interesting history lesson. Thanks B!

What do you think?