There are a lot of people, including some that actually
agree with my viewpoints, who don’t understand why I “put it out there”. Not only my writing, but my bumper stickers
(current number: 3—Obama/Biden 2012; Co-Exist;
and I Love Obamacare). For me, it lets the world know who I am and I’m
not ashamed. Others have thought I was
putting myself in danger or that I’m just annoying. No question, everyone knows where I stand on
pretty much everything. The downside is
they don’t listen to me; the upside is sometimes they do.
If you read this blog, I’ll assume you don’t totally hate
me. If you don’t read this, it doesn’t
really matter what I say to offend you, right?
I have a little plaque that reads:
“Stand up for your principles, even if you stand alone”. That kind of sums it up for me. There was a big stretch of my life (the
raising children in bad marriages part) of being non-political and relatively
uninvolved in the world around me. There
was some community involvement (most of which didn’t go too well, either—but I
blame that on WaycrossJ). I didn’t get really political again until
before the last W election.
In my earlier life I was quite the radical. I guess it was my religion, in a way. I come by it honestly from my left-wing
parents, but I also was continually inspired during the 60s. The Civil Rights and Anti-War movements were
active, busy, and at times, thrilling. I
went on numerous marches and protests, and did political canvassing (most
notably for LBJ). I didn’t make the big
March in 1963 (I was working—but honestly, I was kind of scared also). I avoided putting myself in the way of the
law and I sort of feel guilty about that.
There was a major protest against on-campus military recruitment at my
school, Brooklyn College, which led to a
3-day boycott. Mounted police were
called in to break it up and I saw one drag a girl off by her hair. During college, my jacket bore every pin that
was made (including the original famous peace sign put out by the Student Peace
Union). I stored them in a box which
somehow has disappeared, along with many other tokens of that long-ago time.
August is the 50th Anniversary of the March on
Washington. This year has been rife with
discussions about the current status of racism in our country. An anniversary March is planned and I
probably won’t go to this one either.
Not because my belief is any less, but I really hate crowds, and this should
be a big one. The discussion is one I
will continue, however. Are things
better since 1963? In many ways, of
course. There are more black college
graduates and professionals; there are no race-specific laws; racism is up for
public discussion. Much of the current discussion
centers on what is perceived as “reverse” racism by the media. This usually comes from the right wing of the
political spectrum and states that the media defends black perpetrators of
crime and ignores white victims. There
is also a lot of talk that racism really no longer exists
I do have black friends; they rarely march in the streets
against racism. Many of them never say
an unpleasant word to white people who they know are racist. But, believe me readers, they can tell you
with certainty that the beast is not yet dead.
If you ask; if you listen. It’s
in the workplace, in healthcare, public agencies and even in the church. The “N-word” is quieter, but still very much
in use.
I will continue to voice my opinions as long as there is
inequality, injustice and unilateral wars.
Which means you can expect to keep hearing from me while I’m on this
side of the grass.
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