DeeEl's Mo Chroí Scríofa

Bullied

There has been  lot of press of late regarding bullying.  This is especially the case where some thought to have been bullied have taken their own life.  Bullying doesn’t just happen on the playground.  As we have seen it happens in high schools, on college campuses, in the workplace, in homes and with governments.

It is seen all too well the bullying in schools.  When it happens in homes it is labeled abuse and the law will step in IF the victims dare to speak up.  In the work place it bears a more subtle hand.  Then you have governments who go into other countries and strong arm the opposing government and bully them into submission.  Governments also bully their citizens with brash laws meant to fortify the leaders and leave the general population in ruin.

In January, I wrote a poem called Bullied.  I took from my own life as well as things I see around me and on the news to write this piece.  I must say it was a difficult piece to write and felt a great relief when it was finished.  

This type of behavior in any form and at any level is appalling and immoral.  But, there is something that is just as bad, if not worse.  Even though it is so prominent, and known, bullying remains a boil festering within the world.  Not just because there are those who will always think they deserve to do harm in some form to other people.  It is also allowed to continue because the cowards looking on do nothing.

As a child I would wear bruises and whelps from beatings and others would see these, but remain silent.  In school, when kids would bully me, there would be those who would just stand there and watch, doing nothing.  Years ago a man I knew in junior high and high school crossed my path at a baseball game.  We sat and chatted for a bit while watching the field.  He looked at me and with sadness in his eyes he said he remembered how some of the other boys would say and do mean things to me.  I remembered he was one of them standing there.  He continued to aver that it always bothered him how they did that.  He said good-bye and returned to his seat.  If it bothered him so much, why didn’t he say anything to anyone who could have helped me?

Perhaps this person didn’t or felt he couldn’t do anything due to his age at the time of the incidents.  However, there are those in workplaces who will stand around the water-cooler listening to co-workers as they say ugly and hateful things about another co-worker.  At the most they may go to a quiet place and secretly phone that person and warn them someone is saying things about them.  You call that person a friend and yet you stand there and allow other people to defame the same one you call friend.  This is not what I call a friend.

Passing cutesy things on Facebook and Twitter may be fun, but what are you really doing to put an end to the bullying in the world?  What are you doing to put an end to the bullying in your own town or neighborhood?

The next time you are in a group where someone you know and perhaps call friend is being besmirched and you are tempted to do nothing, imagine you are watching a small child being brutally beaten.  What would you do?  Would you just go over and tell that child they are being abused?  IF you are a friend, then speak up and say you will NOT stand around and allow small-minded people to speak that way about someone that you endear.   Be a human being and display that you are indeed a friend in the truest sense of the word.

It is the people who stand by that allow bullying and abuse to continue to rule the world.

The Forbidden Topic

Okay, if you know me well enough, you know there are two topics I will not speak on unless asked specific questions; and then I will only answer those questions as long as I do not believe the other person is only seeking an argument.  I refuse to argue these two topics for anyone or any reason.  The mere mention of religion or politics in some arena causes people to jockey for position; some to prepare to argue and others to prepare to head for the hills.

I’d like to break my own taboo and speak here on religion.

Earlier I was reading a Brit friend’s blog and her post on this same subject.  Her words caused words to begin to swell up inside my head and gave me the courage to relay them here in a more definite manner to allow people to see where I am at.  I am not doing this to start a debate or provoke long-time friends to try to persuade me different.

When my best friend Sissy was still alive, she had no reserve about arguing her religious views.  I recall one occasion sitting in a Wendy’s down from my apartment with her and two gentlemen of a different denomination.  An argument ensued.  I firmly stated that I would leave if they did not cease.  The discussion abated briefly.  However, when it began again, I collected my things and prepared to depart.  The gentlemen stood, apologized and returned to their wives.  Sissy and I left.  This is related to remind you how firm I am on NOT debating or arguing religion.

I was raised in a so-called Christian household where one thing was preached and another was lived.  Alcoholism, abuse and adultery were rampant.  As a child does, I accepted what I was told and believed how I was told to believe.  I listened while members on both sides of my family orated their bigotry and hatred for those who were different (I will get into this in an upcoming post as it has more to do with my new mission in life).

As a child I knew there was something different about me.  I recall one Sunday while Grandmaw was preparing Sunday dinner, my uncle and I were playing a game of cards.  Grandmaw came in and said we were sinning by playing cards on the Sabbath.  I thought she was going to have kittens when I calmly said, “But, today isn’t the Sabbath, yesterday was”.  Her disapproving look advised never to broach the topic again.

At the age of 21, my mother, while in the process of disowning me, looked at me and told me I was a “damn Jew” just like my father.  This gave me pause.  I had never heard anything before about Jewish heritage in my family tree.  I have since found that connection.  The statement did give me reason to think.  While studying the Jewish people and learning of their plight, I always felt a connection.  I attempted as an adolescent to hone in on my German roots and forget those feelings.

A few years after my mother’s enlightenment, I learned about a Messianic (congregations of Jewish believers and Gentiles who embrace their Jewish religious roots) congregation in my area and began attending services.  Here, I flourished and began learning about this hidden limb buried in my family tree.  Growing in this setting I accepted what I was taught and began to relinquish the past teaching.  To say I completely gave up my past is inaccurate.  Nor did I pick and choose what I wanted to keep from each.

In my mid-twenties, I began to question.  I questioned everything I believed in.  Recalling there is a place in the scriptures that encourages this kind of questioning, I pushed forward.  I learned through my study that holidays, both Christian and Jewish, I had kept were not what I was trained to believe they were.  It was like a child finding out that there is no Easter bunny nor Santa Clause.  I continued to embrace my Jewish roots and remained with the Messianic congregation.  However, I kept true in my own ways.

Seeing false faith in both the Christan and Messianic worlds, I needed to find my own peace, my own way.  After I got sick and people from both of those worlds began to disappear, I really began to question things.  As I look back over the past few years (generalities, so not trying to diss anyone) it seems the ones who have offered the most sincere support to me are those from the Atheist, Buddhist and mix-n-match realms.

I have not kept anything within the Christianity world in many years.  I keep the Jewish parts in my own way.  It is more in the Buddhist meditations that I have found inner peace.  When things seem to be the most troubling for me, I finally pause and realize I have not been meditating.  There was once that, while in the midst of a Meniere’s bout of full-blown vertigo, I had a passing thought I hadn’t done my meditations.  I focused the best I could and tried to work on my Chakras.

It has been since Passover 2009 that I have attended any religious services.  While I still consider myself Messianic, I don’t really have any formal belief system other than knowing what I have studied and continue to learn.  I will no longer accept with “blind faith” what a mere mortal says.  I will also not look at man’s book of scriptures solely as a resource.  I will prove everything out from historical accounts and keep things the way I keep things and not the way someone else tells me to.  I will not “pray” to a god I cannot trust.   I will send good thoughts and energy to those who need it.  I respect that you believe your way and only ask for the same consideration in return.  I will not try to persuade you to believe differently, which is why I didn’t give details of what I learned when I searched for answers.  I expect the same from others.

The US Government Is The Greatest?

An old story has returned to the news.  Three years ago, Nadya Suleman was in the news for giving birth to octuplets.  She already had six children at home and the birth of eight more gave her 14 children total.  It was reported that she went through treatments to have more children hoping for a multiple birth. 

Ms. Suleman said she would not go on welfare to assist her in raising these children.  For a time she was “earning” money via the reality television realm.  There had also been reports that she was dating men in hopes of landing a wealthy husband to help her with her children.

This morning she was on NBC’s Today Show where it was reported that she is, in fact, receiving $2000 a month from welfare and she also stated she has posed for pornographic magazines to make money.

She is doing all of this public stuff to make money and is still receiving government assistance.  In 2010, I was unemployed, and unemployment had run out.  My savings was gone trying to live and get disability.  I filed for welfare and food-stamps.  I was put through the wringer to make sure I had no other means of supporting myself.  I was denied financial assistance and medical insurance.  They did however, allot me $200 a month in food-stamps.

During this time, I began selling my possessions to pay my bills which still had to be paid.  When it was time to re-certify for food-stamps, I stated I had just been approved for disability and  had sold personal items to pay my bills.  I was berated and my food assistance went from $200 a month to $16 a month.

How is it that a woman in her mid 30s can go out and make babies she can’t afford, take her clothes off for money and still get government assistance?  The government systems set up to help people are supposed to have safeguards to prevent people from abusing them.  These are really to prevent people who deserve and truly need the services from getting them while the Nadya Suleman’s of the world flourish and make money and still receive assistance.

Murder, Malice And Bigotry

I was not going to chime in on the current media blitz regarding the slaying of Trayvon Martin.  However, biting my tongue is only giving me a sore tongue and lots of stress.  Let me begin by stating outright that the only information I have regarding this travesty is the same information that everyone else has as it has been splashed all over the television and internet.

There are good and bad elements on both sides of this, as with every story out there.  It is difficult to drawl productive conclusions just relying on what the media presents to us.

The clip of the 911 call does make it appear that Mr. Zimmerman was racial profiling and could have uttered racial slurs making him a bigot.   On the other side, the only photographs of Mr. Martin that are in circulation are outdated and taken when he was younger and smaller. 

Mr. Zimmerman’s supporters say that he shot Mr. Martin in self-defense after Mr. Martin attacked him.  Mr. Martin’s supporters aver that he would never attack anyone unless provoked.

So, what really happened that dark night in February?  I wasn’t there and of the two who were there, one of them is dead and the other isn’t speaking.

I do firmly believe that this tragedy could have been prevented.  It is clear from the 911 call that Mr. Zimmerman advised the operator that he was in pursuit or Mr. Martin, someone he believed to be suspicious.  The 911 operator clearly told Mr. Zimmerman NOT to follow Mr. Martin.  As a member of the neighborhood watch, proper training would instruct persons to call 911 and follow what they are told to do.  Had Mr. Zimmerman obeyed the directive he was given by the operator to break his pursuit, Mr. Martin would be alive today.  However, Mr. Zimmerman took it upon himself to become more of a vigilante and not neighborhood watch.  This type of stalking behavior could have been perceived by Mr. Martin as threatening and felt the need to “defend” himself.

There does not appear to be any malice on anyone’s part in all of this.  However, when a mere citizen takes the law into his own hands as Mr. Zimmerman did, there will be severe repercussions.  In this case, it was the death of a young man just beginning his life who only wanted to go out and get some snacks to enjoy while watching a game.  For this, there needs to be justice.  Is it a racial crime, this is for the judicial courts to decide, not the court of public opinion.  Either way, Mr. Zimmerman took a human life and it was due to his own ignorance and therefore, he needs to be tried in a court of law.

Be Smart

This morning I was watching GMA and they showed a preview of an ABC comedy which is airing tonight.  I didn’t get the name of the show as I am not inclined to most comedies on television these days.  In this clip there was a man who was in his doctor’s office for what seemed to be his annual physical exam.  The doctor was asking him some general health questions as he poked and prodded.  When the doctor pressed in one area the man said, “Ouch”.  The doctor inquired if it hurt and the man (being ever the man trying to appear macho) said it didn’t hurt at all, but said ouch when the doctor hit the spot again.  The conversation commenced with the generalities of suggesting tests and inquiring if it were something serious.  The doctor kept suppressing his answers and not saying what he thought the issue could be and the patient did not press for answers.

This scene reminded me of my grandmother years ago. She had Type 2 Diabetes and back then you pretty much went to one doctor and since he was “educated” you trusted him.  My grandmother didn’t ask questions, but took what the doctor said as being the bottom-line truth.  She took more medications then I could count (and I tried since I was, at one point, responsible for giving her her medications each day).  I was a young teen and didn’t know any better so I accepted what was said by the doctor via my grandmother.

In the present day, I consider my own illness.  When I saw my ENT for the first time and he ordered a bunch of tests, I looked over the slip of paper in my hand.  At this time we were trying to determine what was causing me to suffer from vertigo.  He had just ruled out inner-ear infection which was my speculation.  Having worked in a doctor’s lab which ran blood tests and such, I knew most of the tests on the list.  The ones I didn’t recognize, I brought the doctor back in the exam room and questioned.  It was a good thing I did as one of the tests the phlebotomists in my primary doctor’s office had never heard of either. 

Through the entire seven month process of diagnosing me, I questioned.  I asked every question I could think of.  I went on the internet and researched.  In this modern age we are forced to reside in, we have no excuse to remain silent with our doctors.  I know my body better then they do (everyone should get to know their body better).  Many doctors still take offense if you know more about you then they do.  But if it is the first time they are seeing you, how can they know you better?

Let me go back to a previous thought – Get to know your own body.  Allow me to repeat that – GET TO KNOW YOUR OWN BODY!!  When I moved to Knoxville and my previous doctor in Morristown referred me to my current doctor, I went in for my first physical exam with him.  I told him straight up my normal temperature (which is not 98.6), my normal blood pressure and other idiosyncrasies of my body.  (There are ways to determine your normal BP, temperature and other thing)  At one point in the exam he stepped back, looked at me and said, “You’re a singer, aren’t you?”  In his many years of practice he had come to see that singers tend to know their bodies better then the average person.  I would have thought athletes would be in that class, but apparently not.  Know yourself inside and out.  You are the only one who can tell your doctor things to help him help you instead of him playing guessing games and you getting sicker.

If your doctor is requesting tests, especially if he has never requested them before, find out what the test is and exactly why he is requesting it.  I once suffered from headaches for a few months and was seeing a transitional doctor who took offense that I knew myself better than he knew me.  I was thinking the headaches had something to do with an illness I had just before they started which this doctor said was the flu (it wasn’t).  I said I had headaches to him and he had me move my head around and said, “I think you have a brain tumor”.  I nearly fell off the table.  He ran all kinds of tests and found nothing.  I still held to the fact it was that I had an infection (I rarely get fevers and if I do, since my normal body temp is lower than the average, it doesn’t register as a fever).  I still had some left over antibiotics from where my oral surgeon switched them out when I had my wisdom teeth removed several months before.  I took those and the headaches went away as did other minor symptoms I still had.

Bottom line on this post is to be smart.  Get to know your body.  If you are unwell and need to go to the doctor, have a list of questions to ask your doctor.  You are paying for his time, don’t let him rush you.  Ask the questions until you are satisfied with the answers and know what is going on.  You are part of your medical team.  Even if you don’t have a chronic illness like I do, you still have a team of doctors (GP, Eye doctor, dentist, OB/GYN, etc) who all should have one goal – to keep you healthy.  Make the most of it.

The Sheer Ugliness Of It All, But Hope Can Be Had

I was reading my Tweets this morning and came upon one from @JaseR75 regarding his latest blog post, “All American Bigotry” and putting an end to the hatred of Muslims.  I began reading his post and wanted to vomit.  I do not have cable and so had never watched the TLC reality show, All American Muslim.  I also try to avoid the news and had not heard that Lowe’s pulled its advertising from this show because it is a Muslim themed program.  The blog post related that the author was amazed at the fact that so many of his friends posted on Facebook and Twitter that they would now support Lowe’s even more since the home improvement chain pulled their advertising from this show.  I was appalled.

After reading the post, I Googled the television program and watched a few clips.  As I am not into reality television, it really wouldn’t be a program I would watch regularly.  However, as it is a reality television show, I found it to be quite enlightening.  People will spend hours watching others humiliate themselves in the various reality television shows that seem to consume the digital air ways these days.  But a show that wants to educate and enlighten the general population is hit with bigotry and hatred.

I didn’t stop with just looking at the website for All American Muslim, I also Googled the controversy with Lowe’s.  It seems that not all American’s are bigots like Lowe’s and their new-found supporters for pulling their advertising.  It seems there are many who are now boycotting Lowe’s because of this.

It is true that this is a country with the freedom of choice.  I choose not to hate.  I choose to look at everyone as human beings, until they (as in this case with some who posted their support in a very ugly manner on Lowe’s FB page) prove that they have the mannerisms of wild animals.

The month of December is for many a holy month with the celebration of Chanukah, Ramadan, Kwanza and Christmas.  All of these promote peace and good will toward others.  Apparently not all who keep these holidays believe in what they stand for.

A couple centuries ago some Native Americans went up against the new comers to their land and the hatred of the Native American began.  Some were savages so the settlers decided that ALL were savages.

Decades ago, blacks fought back because of the ill treatment they received due to the fact that their ancestors were brought here as slaves.  They were hated because they were different and fought back.

Today, a handful of people who happen to be Muslim become radical and turn their rage on Americans, therefore Americans hate ALL Muslims.

Hatred, bigotry, prejudice; whatever name you give it, it is a disease worse than the black plague.  An idea is planted and begins to fester and grow until it is full blown and violence ensues.  We must end this or we will not have a future world for those who come after us.

I had intended to write a post today to include my latest piece of writing.  It fits perfectly here.  Many of you know the song by John Lennon War Is Over.  It is only played during this time of year.  I only came to know this song a few years ago and I cry every time I hear it.  This is the biggest mistake of Mr. Lennon (I have blogged this before).  This song needs to be heard year round.

Since I keep Chanukah, many are surprised that I spend hours listening to a supposed Christmas song, but I do.  Tuesday night, trying to get into the Chanukah spirit, I put on some music and forgot I added War Is Over to the mix.

I was resting and listening when the song began to play.  I found myself sitting up and my pen was in my hand with a note pad.  The following words found their way to my page as a re-write of Mr. Lennon’s song.  I do give him credit on this one as well, this is just my version to make it more universal to be heard year-round.

War Is Over (Look To The Future)

Look to the future
and what you have done
one life is over
a new one just begun

Just look to the future
I hope you had fun
with your near ones and dear ones
your old and your young

Here’s to your future
and every New Year
can you make them good ones
without any fear

Here’s to the future
for the weak and the strong
for the rich and the poor ones
the road is very long

Let’s look to the future
for black and for white
for the yellow and red ones
we must end all the fights

Here’s to the future
and every New Year
can you make them good ones
without any fear

Look to the future
what have you done?
One life is over
a new one just begun

Just look to the future
I hope you had fun
with your near ones and dear ones
your old and your young

Here’s to our future
and every New Year
can we make them good ones
without any fear?

War IS over
IF you want it
War IS over
NOW!!!

December 13, 2011

© John Lennon & DL Bach

Changes Coming

I just heard some sad news this morning.  Okay, a lot of you will probably not consider this to be sad news.   However, I do.  I went to the library this morning to pick up a book and a DVD that I had ordered.  The librarian who attended me and I began chatting.  He advised me that the process has already begun to phase out books, DVDs and CDs. 

For those of us who are writers, it seems the proverbial writing has been on the wall for a while now with books being replaced by e-publishers and internet downloads for e-readers.  Now it seems more and more people are obtaining their music, movies and television shows via internet download as well.

Don’t get me wrong, I have downloaded a lot of books, music and movies.  Where my issues come in is, first of all, books.  I do use my iPod Touch as an e-reader to make it easier to carry books with me, but there is nothing like the feel of holding a book in your hand and smelling the pages as you turn them to discover the treasure on the other side.  For me, it is also much easier to study with an actual book.  I can highlight and make notes in the margins for future reference especially if I am researching for a piece I am writing.  I can then flip through the pages to find those notations easier than having to scroll through page after page of pixels.

The rest of my objections come from my being hearing impaired.  I am sitting here typing this and popped in the DVD I just picked up at the library on sign language.  While I do scan lips when speaking to people to be able to better understand them I am finding that as my hearing gets worse I need to brush up on my ASL (American Sign Language).  One would think that a DVD teaching sign language would have Closed Caption (CC) for hearing impaired.  This is not the case.  There is someone speaking while another is signing and since I am not fluent in ASL I need to see the person’s lips to know fully what is being said.  The person speaking is off camera.  I am now very frustrated.

When I had Netflix, I complained because many of their DVDs and none of their downloads had CC.  I was advised that they were attempting to make that available and I would have to go to a different site to download and it would take twice as long.  It seems that to provide CC for a digital download you need two feeds – one for the video and audio and one for the CC.  None of the movies or television programs I have downloaded from iTunes are equipped with CC although my iTunes preferences dose allow for it and I have it turned on.

Music is something I have already become accustomed to in this modern world we live in.  If there is a song I have known since before my illness which is taking my hearing, then I have no problem and can still sing along.  However, if it is a new song or one I don’t recall from before, I need to Google the lyrics to be able to understand what is being sung.

So what does the future hold for us?  Several generations ago families would gather around the fire while one read or played a musical instrument.  It was a time for families to be together and share.  Not long after that with the incoming of the radio, families would sit around the radio and listen to music and dramatic presentations over the air waves.  Then, when I was young, the family would gather around the television and watch favorite programing.  With the changes coming, people will gather around the computer or completely detach from the family gathering and everyone will have their own iPod, computer or viewer to sit in their own corners and watch what they choose.

Since so many options are not including CC for the deaf and hearing impaired, my options will diminish.  I just hope that families will find new and creative ways to maintain that precious family time without something to gather around and enjoy books, music and programing.

Thanksgiving Memories

Growing up in the United States, I learned that the last Thursday in November was set aside for family, food and giving thanks.  When my grandmother was alive, this was a very happy time for me.  Not only did I get to spend time with her cooking for days before, I would spend time with her cleaning afterward.  There was always lots of family, some I only saw once every year or so and others that I would see a lot of.  Mostly I remember happiness with lots of wonderful food on Thanksgiving Day as I was growing up.

About a year or two before my grandmother passed away, my aunt began hosting the annual fun-fest.  I say this with tongue-in-cheek as things began changing when my grandmother got sick and could no longer host the family events.  Bitterness set in and that brought lots of bickering.  Since I was a young teen, I was not privy to most of the issues at hand.  One constant was those who presumed they did most of the work were angry that others were partaking without even offering to lend a hand.  Funny, as a child I recall it was Grandmaw who did most of the work, but I do not remember her ever complaining as she enjoyed the time with her family.

I came to dread the holidays and spending time with the family, especially after my grandmother passed.  It seemed the holidays were the appropriate time to bash each other and hurl the worst insults that could be found.  I thought holidays were supposed to bring families together and, especially Thanksgiving Day, finding all the reasons to be thankful.  I must have had a grave misconception in this area.

The happiest Thanksgiving I recall following my grandmothers death was the year my long-time friend Denise invited me to spend it with her and her family.  I was probably about 19 at the time and expected to feel very claustrophobic as she comes from a rather large family.  At the most, growing up, we had about two dozen coming and going from my grandparents home.  With Denise’s parents, siblings, their spouses and children alone they had over two dozen.  Then you sprinkle in an odd uncle and aunt or two.  That is a lot of people.

Denise knew how miserable I was contemplating another Thanksgiving dinner with my family and being the main source of abusive entertainment for everyone.  Therefore, she suggested with an insistent tone that I come to her parents house and spend the day with them.  I knew her family quite well and admired them for their closeness and love for each other so I graciously accepted the invitation.

I walked up the block to the Fulton abode and almost before I could knock on the door I was greeted heartily by a couple of the children.  Everyone else filtered in and made me feel welcome.  One thing I really enjoyed was they treated me, not like a guest, but as they treated each other, like family.  There was no difference with any other time I had been to their home, except ALL of them were there at one time.

Dinner was very animated with all the lively conversation.  It was filled with respect for each other and very comfortable as if they had been acting this way all their lives.  I knew they had, because this is how they behaved any other time of year when I would have the honor of being within the warmth of this home.  Mr. Arness (my name for Denise’s dad due to a photo of him resembling James Arness the actor) reminded me a lot of my grandfather, except he was more vocal than my grandfather.

After the feasting came the festing.  Christmas music was put on and everyone just had fun with each other.  I was sitting there watching the whirlwind of excitement and entertainment going on around me and comparing it to my own family.  Denise came over and grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet to begin dancing to the upbeat holiday music swelling the air with the lingering aromas of turkey and pie.

As tears fill my eyes remembering times long since committed to the archival parts of my brain, I ponder my more recent Thanksgivings.  I have not had a full thanksgiving dinner since 2005, the last time since being sick that I was still able to cook it.  As this dragon makes life more and more difficult for me, I spend most of my time resting and doing little things.  I also try to use it to get some writing done as I know I will not be receiving IMs or anything from anyone since the majority of my US friends (who all live in my computer) will be with their families and loved ones.

For this Thanksgiving, provide your kin with reasons to be thankful, not regret.  I bid all y’all a wonderful time with your loved ones giving thanks for each other and letting them know you are grateful for them being in your life.

Is It Really Justice?

On Sunday, May 1, 2011, United States President Barack Obama went on national television to announce that the world’s number one most wanted, Usama Bin Laden, had been killed in a late night raid on a compound in Pakistan.  The raid took all of forty minutes and left the infamous terrorist with two bullet holes in his head courtesy of a US Navy S.E.A.L.

Not being awake at that hour, I received the news as soon as I got up and turned on the television for my morning news fix.  I sat on my couch with my tea watching in stunned quasi-awareness while the reporters provided information as if a mama bird feeding her hungry hatchlings.  I could not believe that Mr. Bin Laden’s reign of terror was finally over.  Still in the back of my mind, I knew his people would pick up the torch and carry on in his ways.

It has now been six days and everyone keeps saying that justice has been served and this is a United States victory.  I beg to differ.

Don’t get me wrong, I was completely devastated on Tuesday, September 11, 2001 when the announcements came through my radio speakers telling of the planes crashing into the towers in New York City.  I spent days watching in horror as all the details began coming to the surface.  Being as patriotic as I am, I finally had to shut everything off. I could not watch the news or even read my newspaper.  In fact, I saved those papers to read at a later date.  I still have not been able to read them.  I felt as if someone reached in and ripped out my heart and left me bleeding on the inside.  I cried every night after coming home from work knowing that someone came in and hurt the country that I love.  On September 16, 2001 I finally finished the song I wrote about it called Unity.

But, has justice really been served?  I cannot say that it has, in my opinion.  To me having justice served means the perpetrator, in this case Usama Bin Laden, will be arrested, stand trial, be found guilty and then be sentenced and serve that sentence.  There are many who are disputing the reports that Mr. Bin Laden is in fact deceased.  They feel seeing photos will provide the needed proof of his demise.  Photos have been faked since photography came to be.  However, a trial and much witnessed sentencing would have been true justice providing more belief throughout the world.

Speaking of the world….My other issue in all of this as it being a United States victory.  Yes, Usama Bin Laden was at the top of the FBI most wanted, but he was also at the top of the world’s most wanted.  This man did not just terrorize the United States, he terrorized every country in the world.  It may have been an American that pulled the trigger, but the victory belongs to the world.  Furthermore, this is only a minor victory.  The head has been cut off, but this species of snake has a way of continuing on and growing a new head.

True victory will come in the form of real world peace.  This will only come when we, as human beings (and yes the terrorists are also human beings) begin to accept each other and our differences and find common ground.  There are those who may say there is no common ground between Al Qaeda and the rest of the world.  But there is one thing we all have in common, WE ARE ALL HUMAN BEINGS.  Just because we have different skin color and beliefs doesn’t mean we are unworthy of each other.

There was a line in a song in the movie Oklahoma that keeps running through my mind, “I’m not saying that I’m better than anybody else, but I’ll be danged if I ain’t just as good”.

True justice isn’t necessarily served when one man (even if sanctioned by the leader of a nation) takes the life of the one being sought.  And one nation has no right to claim personal victory when the capture (or killing) of a terrorist belongs to the entire world.

The History Of A People

Growing up in America I learned history beginning in elementary school.  What I recall of this historical education early on was it was in bits and pieces.  Mostly I recall learning that US history didn’t really begin until the late 15th century when Columbus ‘discovered’ the Americas.  We learned about the Native Americans (Indians), but almost as if they were something different altogether.

Those who know me know how much I love history.  I love seeing it.  I love hearing about it.  I love writing about it.  I just plain ole love history.

Last week I was watching PBS Create as they were running all their pieces about Ireland all day long to get people ready for Irish Day.  I learned a lot watching these shows.   As some of the hosts discussed the history of the areas they were in and touched on the beginnings of St. Patrick’s Day, my mind wandered.

Considering the history of various countries that I have read about or studied and how far back they date sent me further into my reverie.  In America it is B.C. and A.C. (Before Columbus and After Columbus) with A.C. making this America.

I have traced part of my ancestry back to 18th century America and then through to 14th century Scotland.  I am sure I can go back even further with it when I have time.  But what about the history of the country I live in?  Why can’t the history of this land be taught the same way a person sets out to trace their family ancestry?

America did not start to exist when Mr. Columbus (or as some historians relate, St. Brendan) laid eyes on it.  There were people living here already.  They worked, they loved and they played.  These people created America and should be given the respect never afforded them for this success.  Perhaps they were many tribes, living in one land without one government, but history doesn’t teach it that way, some would have us believe these people lived in chaos.

I have enjoyed the friendship of a couple of Native Americans and found them to have a certain pride that I have not seen in any other American.  It wasn’t a false pride, nor did it seem to be something that they emitted consciously.  It was something that I wish I understood and knew more to want to learn from it and to simply enjoy it.  I lost touch with one of those friends over the years and the other, whom I bonded with over our poetry, passed away in the prime of his life due to kidney disease.

Perhaps the government of the United States of America is just over 200 years old, however, the richness of this lands history dates back to the beginning of time.  Teaching the history of this land should flow smoothly and fluently back through the ages to include those who were overtaken so that the current government could reign.

Take pride in the history of your land and your people.  Don’t be afraid to acknowledge who you are.