The Truth. According to TinfoilMagnolia

Truthfully? The first time I remember hearing a Martin Luther King, Jr. speech? It was in this video:

It has a good beat, you can totally dance to it. Right? In 1986 a group called OMD released an album, The Pacific Age, containing the song which was an instrumental written around this speech given by Dr. King the night before his assassination. Pretty prophetic to someone like me who reads something into everything.

Truthfully? I must have learned about Dr. King in school, wouldn't you think? And yet I don't remember anything about him, I mean I knew WHO he was but I  didn't know a lot about the speeches he made. Once I found out that it was him, I immediately went to the library. (yes kiddies, this was 1986/87 and there were no *gasp* iPhones or internet back then) I did a lot of research on Dr. King and read as many of his speeches as I could find. Back then when something caught my interest it became a temporary obsession. Like much like the obsessions I later had with Kennedy, Charles Manson, and (god help me) Jim Morrison. I was blown away by his message and had a hard time understanding why he was so controversial. I was born in 1967 so I didn't see much of the civil rights struggle. By the early 70's it was mainly about women's liberation and gay rights and the like.

Truthfully? I have always struggled with the concept of equality in this country. I just don't understand why it is so hard just to treat everyone the same. Prejudice, while understandable, (we all have a notion of what someone will be based on how they look don't we?) doesn't make sense to me when it is elevated to the level of racism. I know the hatred comes from fear. Logically. But I can't imagine beating someone to death over their skin color or denying them the right to vote or sit at a table in the same restaurant as me.

Truthfully? I don't know how I grew up to have the attitudes that I do. I was raised by parents who were, and still are, very prejudiced. The only thing I can point to early in my life was a film and experiment in which we had to take part. (in typical 70's fashion) I guess I was in 3rd or 4th grade and they did that old blue/brown eyes segregation thing. Do ya'll remember that? I of course had brown eyes and got treated like crap. It sucked. I still remember how it sucked. Even after we were told what was going on and watched the film explaining it, my feelings were still hurt from being deemed "stupid" and "unworthy". My best friend at the time was a girl who was African American and I just couldn't imagine why I shouldn't be friends with her or why she would ever be treated that way.

Truthfully? My parents are 76 and 83 and they still use the "n" word. They still use all kinds of racial names that I would never in a million years let go through my mind, much less out into the world. They still hold firm to the argument that "it's how things were back then". In fact, I got into a huge disagreement with my brother over this a couple of years ago when he made a nasty comment about our president that I find utterly full of hate. We had a huge argument which ended with me basically telling him that "if" there is indeed a heaven, as he proclaims to believe, he is going to be 10 kinds of disappointed to see people of every race, color and religion inside those mythical pearly gates. Probably wine, too. And music, definitely music. None of which he or my parents feel fit in with their religious beliefs. Why else did his "god" in whom he proclaims to believe put them here if it was only to suffer torture and ridicule. If one of us is made in his image, so must we all be. Right?

Truthfully? This is one of the three main reasons I made the CHOICE to walk away from organized religion 12 years ago. I don't understand the intersection of christianity and racial inequality. At all. I was taught in church to "love one another". But then see people who look like me saying such horrible things to people of other races. We are taught to treat well the least of us, as if he were jesus. But then we hear such vile, vitriolic comments coming from folks who consider themselves christians. In our town, the churches still remain segregated. The "white" church of christ and the "black" church of christ. I remember growing up and the murmuring that went through the building if a black person walked through the doors for a church service. Don't get me wrong, I don't hold christians responsible, nor do I hold them to a higher standard. It is up to all of us to learn to live together or none of us will achieve peace.

Truthfully? I really do try to treat everyone the same. I object to using the color of their skin or their race as an identifying quality. I hate it when people have to say "my black friend" or "the black waitress". Why can't it be "my friend from design class" or "The waitress in the blue top."? Many times I have questioned myself about whether or not I am being overly sensitive. Is it right to try not to see color? Is it better just to be OK with being divided this way? Because I was always taught that America was a melting pot, not a salad bowl, and we were supposed to all co-exist. I got into a huge argument with a "friend" of mine in Pennsylvania a couple of years ago over this very thing. She was making what I considered to be racist remarks. She said I was overly sensitive to the issue because of my southern background. I said, well if I am what's wrong with that, really? I mean, really. In anything else in life don't we say to err on the side of caution?

Months earlier, when Obama was elected, she texted a racial joke to my husband's phone. The same Catholic friend who admonished myself and others for not going to church or believing in heaven and that if we didn't we'd "get the chance to see it firsthand" someday. Her defense for these remarks, other than saying I am not a racist over and over? She received an award during her days in the military for promoting equality. Now, I am sure it's just me but I don't think the US Military is a yardstick of acceptance and equality in this country. Her other defense? Well, they brought it upon themselves. It was Africans who sold their own people into slavery. Needless to say I just stared at her with my mouth gaping open.

She maintained that defeating racism isn't about not seeing color. I beg to disagree. But what do you think? Am I wrong? I strongly believe it isn't just a black and white thing either. Some of the most horrifyingly racist hate speech I have ever been subjected to firsthand occurred when I was dating a guy of Korean descent. I never, ever told him of the things that were whispered to me when we were out in public. The tamest of which was that I could surely "find a real man, an American man, a white man" as pretty as I was. My stomach still churns thinking of all the horrible things that people thought was OK to tell me because I looked like them and he didn't. The sad thing about it was that this guy I was dating? He was a 3rd generation American and his father was a American veteran. It isn't just a black and white thing.

I have a friend who was burned to death in his home because of sexual orientation. I have a friend who I saw treated like a second class citizen because of her learning issues. I have a friend who is talked to and treated like a servant by her husband because it is how he believes their roles should be. I have a friend who has been passed over for a management position time and despite her being perfectly qualified. I have a friend who has obtained a coaching position at a major university and sitting in the crowd at a game I hear him compared to the guy selling cokes in the stands, who is also African American. I have a friend who has been mistaken for a gardener while mowing his own yard in a very nice subdivision. I myself have been subjected to jokes and images about and relating to my weight. It isn't just about race. It is about equality. And treating people with basic respect.

So this morning I attended a breakfast here in our small southern town to celebrate MLK Day. I was asked to attend so that I could write a story for the local paper. I was warned by a friend that I might be one of a half-dozen "white" people there. When I walked in I noted the "white" people, save one or two, clustered together at one table. I had hoped this wouldn't be the case. Determined not to fall into the patterns we all do, being comfortable and sticking with those who look like us, I sat across the room at a table with three of the nicest women you'd hope to meet. I had a wonderful chat with them about jewelry and children and the weather and all the things I would talk about with my own friends. I sat with them and wondered, without asking, what all they had seen or encountered in their lifetime. I came home to write my story covering the event.

But there's just this nagging in my head. Still, there are no answers. Has there been change? Yes, I think there has been. Amazing change. Is it enough? Not by a longshot. The sad thing is that you can't regulate or legislate changes to people's attitudes and opinions. Do we have a long way to go? Absolutely. But I have hope that even though not everyone of my generation can be so accepting, maybe the next generation can. Maybe they can ignore race, and religion, and all those other things upon which we judge people. If only we will let them.

Peace be with us all. And grace upon us fall.

My Soapbox for the Week

From time to time I am asked to defend myself on certain beliefs that I have. Not that surprising since I pretty much buck the conventions of what society considers to be normal on everything from my religious beliefs to the equality deserved by every citizen of this planet, regardless of race, sex, religion, orientation etc. However, the one thing I am asked to defend more often than any other is my decision not to have children. Less now that I am in my 40's but when we were in our 30's it was almost constant. Not just people asking why, but people actually trying to convince me that I "had" to have a child. Oh, I could write an entire dissertation on that one.

It is something on which I deliberated much, mainly because I just didn't like being around children. Ever. Even when I was 3 I wanted to hang around with the grown ups and talk with them. I baby sat in high school and during college I was a nanny. But I didn't know what to "do" with these kids–how to talk to them or how to entertain them. One time I turned on Pee-Wee's playhouse on a Saturday morning and the 5 year old girl wailed, terrified. The older the kids were the worse it was. So, I would load them into my convertible Fiat and go to Baskin Robbins for ice cream. They loved me. I was like a rock star. All the Belle Meade moms wanted me. I felt like a fraud.

I still figured I would have to have kids simply because that's what women did. It was "the thing to do", the societal norm where I came from, even in the late 80's when staying home and having kids was declining in popularity nationwide as more women entered the workforce. However, when I got out into the real world I started to realize that a lot of people had kids who had no business having kids. They weren't capable of loving them, educating them, or even feeding them sometimes. One summer during college, tired of my nanny jobs,  I got a summer job working for the Dept. of Human Services office in my Kentucky hometown. Looking back, this was probably one of the best experiences I could have had  in my young life. It was a real eye-opener and I came out of it realizing two things. Loving your kids and having trouble providing for them is one thing. Everyone needs help sometimes. That is something that can be overcome in time with persistence and hard work. But having kids, just for the sake of having them, just because you can, not knowing how to treat them, discipline them or care for them, not wanting them and letting them know it, now that is a horse of a different color.

The reason I am posting this now is because I was already thinking about the fact that I am childfree (thanks, SS for the great blog post) and what people's judgements are about that and about me as a result. Some people don't even understand it enough to make a judgement. And then yesterday in the grocery store, I saw something that just tore me apart inside. There was a mom with 4 kids, ranging in age from about 3 up to maybe 8. (I don't know...I'm not good with ages) Now, let me say that being childfree, I am the first to notice when kids are misbehaving. I am the first to glare when they are running and yelling and acting like they are in the Wild, Wild, West Show. And I hate when parents just ignore them and let them run wild through the grocery, Wal-Mart, or where ever. I'm kinda judgey that way. Don't even get me started on restaurant behavior. I am thinking of lobbying for a no-child section. I will breathe smoke, thanks. But I digress. These kids, let me be clear, they were not making ANY noise. They were being so good, I would never have know there were 4 kids in the next aisle over. But the mom? Oh, yeah, her I heard. Loud and clear.

I heard a constant stream of things like "Stop that, you are acting like an idiot, stupid, you are just stupid, stop acting stupid." *smack* "You want another one, Im gonna give you another smack upside your head, you just keep acting stupid." I just stood still in my tracks until they came around the aisle into the one where I was. The mom was leading the pack of 4 of the most adorable cotton topped children I have ever seen. But bedraggled is the word that immediately popped into my head upon seeing them. They reminded me of the kids in all those WPA depression photographs, just looking like they have given up on life at their tender age. They quietly followed her in a line like little ducklings after the mama duck and I still never saw what any of them were doing to offend her but she continued in her overly loud voice. "Cut that out, act right!" *jerking little one by arm* "What the hell is wrong with you, stop it, stay here with me, don't walk ahead. And you, stop dancing around like an idiot. You look like a moron." (the one daughter had twirled in a circle, from what I could see out of the corner of my eye) "Ya'll are acting like a bunch of idiots, what the hell is wrong with you. I will beat your ass if you don't act right. I mean it I will f*cking beat your ass, you hear me. Goddammit, I can not go anywhere, you want me to beat your ass? I will beat you f*cking ass you hear me?" Yes, she said the F word. Not in front of her children but to them.

It continued throughout my 20 minute shopping excursion. I did my best to stay away from her because I could feel it bubbling up in my chest. I know it isn't reasonable to say something to someone like that, but I knew if I didn't stay away I would. And the other thing? The mother barely stood 5 feet tall and was skinnny as a rail, but I was scared of her. She probably could have beat the crap out of me. She grabbed the littlest one by the arm and I heard the whack on his diaper 3 or 4 times. "There you go! I beat your ass and I will do it again you idiot, what is wrong with you?" Then she walked past me and said "All these people lookin' at me like I am crazy, ya'll are crazy, shit. You act crazy and then people look at me like I am crazy. Bust some ass, that's what I will do."

It kept on and on throughout the store. I was sickened. I just wanted to take those kids and give them hugs. Tell them that life doesn't have to be this way. Call for help. Take them home and clean them up and show them what life is like when someone actually loves and cares for you. It just breaks my heart that some children have to grow up like that. It breaks my heart to think that the mom most likely grew up like that, and someday so will their children. As I rolled my cart out to my car I saw her pull out of the parking lot, the children bouncing up and down in the back, not one of them in a car seat. I thought briefly of pulling out after them, following them, doing...something. I had no idea what so I just got into my car and sat in the sweltering heat for a moment, letting the anger swell up in my chest.

I have always been this way. One lesson my mother never tried to teach me was "you can't save everyone". I learned that on my own. I grew up with parents who tried to help kids and families who they thought needed it, adopted stray dogs, picked up hitchhikers. I always fought for the underdog. The weird kid in school, the abused kid or wife, the dog that got kicked. I never said I didn't have mothering instincts. I never said I don't think kids can be adorable. I am just saying I don't think I have what it takes to live with them every day. I am saying that the ability to have and raise kids isn't just a right. It is an enormous responsibility, one which should be a conscious choice.

Now, I am not saying that the reason I don't want kids is that I think I would be mean or abusive or anything like that. I personally like having a life without kids because we are not tied down and can live life as we please. Some say that is selfish. I am just saying that it is more selfish when people have kids if they don't want them, can't handle them, or just plain don't like them. We as a society should stop pushing that version of "normal" onto people without regard for whether they want it or not. The conscious choice to have or not have children should be one that everyone regardless of social, racial, and economic background should have the education and opportunity to make. *stepping off soapbox*