Category Archives: Politics

Blood and Soiled

This must be one of the saddest photographs I have ever seen.

Why do we teach our children the wrong things?

Why do we teach them to hate, to fear, to believe that if we give one man respect, or dignity, or just a fair chance in life, that we must be trying to take those same opportunities away from another?  Why do we teach our children that the land is ours, by right of blood or edict from on high, when we are only the latest insects to crawl across its surface?  Why do we teach them that one man is different from another, better than, superior, when the story of our genes tells us that we all come from a singular place and time?

Why are we dressing our littlest ones up in the raiment of hate?

And when did Nazi Cosplay suddenly become cool?

Don’t tell me it was THOSE people who did it!  Please, don’t try to put it on someone else.

It was us.  How could it not be?

There are people walking our streets and living in our neighborhoods, who think it’s okay for one group to round up another, to remove them from their homes and fence them in like animals, to starve them, abuse them and ultimately exterminate them.  And these folks didn’t time-travel here from Germany in the early 40’s. They grew up here right alongside us, went to the same schools, studied the same history books.

So how could they have learned to hate so well?

I wonder.

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Filed under Culture, Modern Life, Politics

Homeless

I’d just pulled out of the grocery store parking lot and into some mild traffic, this was early last week, when the passenger side window of the car in front of me opened and ejected what looked like a wadded up fast food bag, which came to rest on the grassy slope beyond the curb.

There was no way I could pull over to pick it up, and no way to properly express my outrage to the uncaring occupants of the vehicle in front of me.

The litter was just there, a little blot of ugliness in my both my rearview mirror and my stomach.

I found myself wondering in what sort of condition those people keep their home.

What, I wondered, was their problem?

Why not just dispose of the thing properly?

I called these folks “uncaring” a moment ago, but I don’t know that I believe that.  There has to have been some thought process, some mental calculation that would compel a person to open her car window and cast her refuse into the street.

I imagined these people as horrible slobs, leaving a trail of filth in their wake wherever they go.

But maybe they just didn’t want that trash in their car, they could, I supposed, be incredibly tidy, within their own four walls.

And there, in the midst of my conjecture, I think I may have hit upon the element that I was missing.

Home, for most people, is what we own, an area bounded by fence or walls that belongs to exclusively to us.  Everything beyond those walls is outside, outside of our control, outside of our responsibility.

I don’t really see things that way.  Walls and fences have their uses, sure, but they are temporary things, in the grand scheme, and land ownership even more so.  The land does not belong to us, we are only its caretakers.

It is, I think, far more realistic to say that we belong to the land.

And so, last Sunday when I saw garbage indiscriminately flung into the street, it felt like a blemish upon my home.

Two days later, nearly half our population flung garbage into the presidency, and for the first time in my life, I felt homeless.

In the days that have passed since that seemingly endless Tuesday night, my emotional state has shifted from anger to despondency and back again more times than I can count.  I’ve listened to the speculation about the why’s and how’s, I’ve looked through the sorry demographics of who did and didn’t, I’ve listened to the explanations from those who voted for him, and I keep coming up with the same calculation that accounts for that wadded up bag on the side of the roadway.

This society is infected with a strange breed of selfishness that prevents us from truly seeing and empathizing with the world beyond that little patch that we imagine we own.

The problems and concerns of others, their very real fears about the future…, well, that’s on them, isn’t it.

And I don’t know what we can do about that attitude.  I don’t know how we can broaden the perceptions of people beyond themselves, except to continue to be who WE are, to continue to live in their world, and to open their hearts, one by one.

I suppose it would be easier, if I could just shut my eyes to it, but I can’t.

I wouldn’t want to.  I remember when I saw the world like they do.  I remember that, although less painful, it was a pretty empty way to live.

The anger is still there, but it’s at low ebb now.

The despondency, I’ve mostly replaced that with determination.

But I worry for my friends, many of whom are likely facing hard times ahead.

I worry for those of us who practice alternative religions, now that the evangelical movement has friends in high places, who have already expressed profound misunderstandings about both the Non-Establishment Clause, and simple human decency.

Mostly though, I worry about the land.

My ancestors believed that we were all a part of the land, and that the land herself was divine.

When they chose a king, he was symbolically married to the goddess of the land.

The success or the failure of that marriage could be seen in both the fruitfulness of the land and the prosperity of the people.  A disrespectful king could bring blight to the land and ruin to the governed.

Although the actual rituals of this marriage have not been practiced in many centuries, and never on this continent (so far as I know), I do believe that some vestige of this relationship, however unknown to our leaders, must still remain.  And the thought of it, of that man in THAT spiritual role…, frankly, it makes me nauseous.

Somehow, I don’t think a man with a reputation for using women and a well documented disdain for environmental protections will be the font of a bountiful union.  And if things go too badly, the goddess of this land may very well blame the society that put him there.  We may find that we are all homeless.

Goddess Statue

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Filed under Culture, Modern Life, Philosophy, Politics, Religion, Traditions

Suddenly, a Witch!

Hillary Clinton, they are telling us now, is a Witch.

The truth, of course, is that folks on the Republican side of the American political fence have been calling her a “witch” for quite some time.  I’ve heard it mixed in there, along with every other disparaging word in the misogynist’s lexicon.

But then suddenly, a couple days ago, they started talking about the capital ‘W’ kind of witch.

Specifically, some folks on Drudge and other bottom-feeder websites began claiming that Clinton was a member of a circle of blood-magic wielding, satan-worshipping, cultists.

I mean, come on guys…, I’ve got so many reasons to vote for her already.

You don’t need to sweeten the deal.

Could it be, SATAN?!

Could it be, SATAN?!

For the last year, I’ve tried to keep this blog away from the American political meltdown, providing myself (and anyone who cares to join me), a respite from the insanity.  Plus, I already get dragged into enough political flame-wars, without stoking the fires on my own site.

But it’s the last day before the election, so what the hell, while the wackier fringes of the conservative movement are off trying to prove that ducks and witches are both made of wood, I thought I might take just a brief moment to explain my very favorite thing about the 2016 Presidential Election cycle.

It’s not a hard choice really, in the last year we’ve seen a lot of really nasty thoughts and beliefs come slithering out of the darkness and into the light of day – which is, itself, a good thing really, if hard to stomach from time to time.

But there HAS been a good thing come out of this election.

The inborn hypocrisy of the evangelical christian movement has never been more prominently on display.  It’s just there, sitting boldly on a pedestal, under a spotlight, for all to see.

“The Candidate took them to a very high mountain and showed them all the kingdoms of the world, all the schools and courthouses, he showed them the supreme court and a tattered copy of the Defense of Marriage Act, and he said to them, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and vote for me…,”

And they’re doing it, in droves.

They’ll sacrifice themselves to a man that they know is not one of their own, who does not truly believe as they believe, who has built his fame and his fortune upon sin after sin, but who hands them empty promises to give them the power over our society that they so desperately crave.

These are not acts of faith or piety.

These are the votes of cowardice in the face of a world which will no longer bow to the singular lie that provides for them their only purpose.

It would be tempting to watch it happen, if for no other reason than to enjoy the whirling destruction that comes with any big train wreck.  But it is important to remember that this is a passenger train, and many of those folks didn’t know where they were bound when they boarded.

The folks who come crawling from that smoking ruin will need comfort, not condemnation.

And what better time to show them what the Witches are really like.

Get out there and vote, friends.

Our future depends upon it.

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Indiana Jonesing

So you’ve heard about the new law in Indiana, right?

I mean, it’s made the news here in Texas, where any news story that’s not about Texas had better be about sports, or it’ll be regarded with suspicion…, so it must be a really big and controversial story…, right?!

Okay, on the off chance that you’ve had your head buried in the sand, here’s the scoop.

A lot of people are very upset because the state of Indiana has just enacted a law which, it is claimed, allows business owners to refuse to serve homosexuals, if said business owner has a religious objection to homosexuality.

Another group of people have responded to that claim by saying, “nu uh!”

And yet a third group, is busy shouting “God Hates Fags!” at anyone who is foolish enough to wander into the comments section of any news story relating to this law, or to any news story, about almost anything.  But mother always said it was unkind to stare at those less fortunate than ourselves, so let’s turn our attention away from the ignorant hooting, and examine, instead, the actual claims about this particular bit of legislation.

The Religious Freedom Restoration Act.

Hmmm…, having read through it, I’ve got to say that, if anything, it suffers from being poorly named.

Indiana FactsWhich religious freedoms, I am forced to wonder, have been taken away, that this law is intended to restore?

Has anyone, Christian, Buddhist, Wiccan, or Jew, been denied the right to worship their god or gods as they see fit?  Have any churches been shuttered?  Have the stormtroopers of vile secularism kicked in the doors of private homes and stolen away with menorahs, prayer mats, advent calendars, and the like?

In what circumstance, has government prohibited the free exercise of religion, in the state of Indiana, (or any of the other states where similar laws hold sway), that we need legislation, specifically enacted, to restore our lost religious liberty?

I ask because, the only examples anyone seems to be able to provide, involve bakers not wanting to produce confections for gay weddings.  I’ve studied a great many religions, over the years.  More, in fact, than I could easily name.  And I have yet to encounter one where baking constituted an act of faith.

I am open to the possibility that adherents of such a faith might be prone to die off quickly, of cholesterol poisoning most likely, thus keeping their numbers dangerously low, and their overall presence off of my religious radar.  But I have serious doubts.

So, until someone can demonstrate some other, greater need for this legislation, what we do seem to have is a law that shields from legal action, a business which refuses service to anyone, on the basis of that business owners religious belief.

Realistically, we also have a law which appears to be named in the sensationalist hope, of attracting the attention (and shall I say votes) of those very same folks, the loud hooting ones, from whom we are trying diligently, to avert our gaze.

Okay, fine.  We may think it ugly, but it’s there.  And right or wrong, the state of Indiana is getting something of a black eye because of it.

So here’s another question to consider: Is it Constitutional?

I don’t know, and the learned opinions on the matter seem to differ, but sooner or later, I think we’re going to find out.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances. 

JonesingI don’t understand how baking a cake for a gay wedding, as long as said cake is no different than those you usually produce in the course of your business, can be abhorrent to the religious beliefs or any reasoning person.  And maybe, this is because it hasn’t been explained to me properly yet.

But in the course of my own career, I have performed technical support, designed advertising and marketing materials, built homes for, and sold actual artwork of my own creation, to people whom I have found to be reprehensible for any number of reasons, including their particular religious beliefs.  I have done this, not because I value the dollar more than my own ideals, but because I firmly believe that everyone should be equal in the marketplace.  My ancestors once had to deal with storefront signs that read ‘No Irish’, and I will never, knowingly, demean another human being in that way.

So, pending more evidence, the ‘non-establishment clause’ would seem to be out of the picture.

So what, then, about the Freedom of Association?

I’ve often heard this touted as a constitutionally mandated right, allowing certain folks the freedom to avoid contact with other folks whom they don’t like.

And that would be fine, except that it is nothing of the kind.

The right of association is not even explicitly mentioned in the constitution, but is, rather, a modern day extension of the freedom to ‘peaceably assemble’.  My research shows that the right of association came into vogue during the civil rights movement when certain groups were putting a lot of energy into either preventing meetings of the NAACP, or forcing that group to turn over lists of its membership.

In any case, the right, as it is commonly expressed, has never been one of ‘disassociation’.  The intent, as I understand it, is to make it clear that you are free to interact with whoever you want to, for whatever reason that is not already prohibited by law.  There’s nothing there about a guarantee that you will not have to interact with people that you don’t like.

In other words the freedom of association, does not give you the right to turn people away from your business, simply because you don’t like them, or their beliefs.

Am I missing something?  Is there something in the Indiana law, or any of the others (including the federal version) that cause it to pass Constitutional muster?  If so, I welcome anyone with a reasoned argument in favor of these laws, to explain it to me.

Show me, please!  Demonstrate to me that there is a very real need for these laws.  Show me that they will be useful to members of minority religions in exactly the same way they are useful to the Christian majority that feels so threatened.  Give me reason to believe that this is more than simple discrimination couched in legal terminology.

Because the alternative…,

The alternative is that these laws are put in place in the hope that they will be challenged.  Certainly, the first group of folks I mentioned at the beginning of this post are getting worked up over the prospect of a legal fight.

And the second group?  They have to know that a challenge is coming.  And another, and another, until someone lands in front of the right court at the right time, and then…,

IndianaJonesingBut, it’s not really about the court challenges at all, is it?

And it’s certainly not about some poor beleaguered baker being forced against her will to apply frosting rosettes to a cake that will be consumed following a same-sex union she will never see.

It’s all about that third group, that rabid mob which is so blinkered by its own insecurity that they have rejected the Christ of the Bible, the one who would likely have embraced the homosexual with the same love and compassion he is said to have shown the prostitute and the adulterer, (perhaps even selling him a nice set of table and chairs from his step-dad’s workshop), and replaced him with the same kind of self-righteous ass, their own scriptures always show him preaching against.

My fear is that it’s really all about keeping them riled up and jonesing for a fight.

But what happens when that monster gets out of control?

Who will these laws protect, when there is blood in the streets?

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The Blood on My Hands

There are those with whom I may not speak.
Not because I could not find the words.
But knowing they would not hear me if I did.

I.

The Evangelist is deaf to all but his own voice.
He pounds the cover of the book he holds.
And my voice shall never touch him.

I am a heretic in his eyes, honoring false gods and corrupt traditions.  I have failed the truest tests of righteousness, surrendering my flesh to the Whore of Babylon and my soul to the Flames of Perdition.  My words can only be lies, the frustrated mewling of a sinner, lost in the din of Heaven’s glorious trumpet.  The blood of the martyrs is on my hands, and in that blood I must either find redemption, or be lost!

II.

The Patriot hears only the fife and the drum.
She stands rapt with hand held over heart.
And no pledge of mine will move her.

I am a traitor in her eyes, placing individual truth above the great social contract.  In my contempt for the notion of Manifest Destiny, I ally myself with those who wish only to end the great experiment before the promise of freedom can be fulfilled.  She brands me “hippy” and “un-American” and “tree-hugger”.  If I will not stand with her, then I must be against her, my hands stained with the blood of heroes!

III.

The Vegan has ears only for those without voice.
He campaigns against the ongoing atrocity.
And nary a justification will satisfy.

I am a monster in his eyes, a modern Grendel, ravenous amid my unthinking carnage.  Is this vile consumption rooted in some religious pretext of dominance over the natural world, or do I simply not understand that animals are thinking beings, capable of pain?  No token moderation of these unseemly habits will appease.  No death, however gentle, should be tolerated.  How can I claim to honor nature and respect all living things when my hands are dripping with the blood of defenseless millions!

IV.  The Homophobe…,

V.  The Socialist…,

VI.  The Feminist…,

VII.  The Atheist…,

Did you think your cause was different from the others?  Better?  More noble?

There are those with whom I may not speak.
Not because I could not find the words.
But knowing they would not hear me if I did.

This world is filled with zealots of every stripe.  Their numbers seem to multiply with each passing moment and I am sure you must have noticed them.  But there is a secret that you may not be aware of: If you believe in one singular truth, whatever that truth is, so fervently that you are willing to denigrate or vilify those who think differently, without considering their arguments or perspective, you are probably a zealot too.

Call them fanatics, bigots, or dogmatists, call them by whatever name suits you.  I will call them dangerous, all of them, each one as dangerous as the others, when their cause is bolstered by numbers and hardware and a disregard for their supposed enemies.

They are dangerous because, in someone’s eyes, we all have blood on our hands.

I know I do.

Bloody Hands

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The Difference We Make

Sometimes, it is hard to know how we can really make a difference in a world where everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, seems to be set against us.

Let me tell you a little story to illustrate my point.

ConstitutionBooklet

A few weeks ago I read a short news item mentioning that Steven Palazzo, a Congressmen from the state of Mississippi, had sent a Bible to every member of the United States Senate and House of Representatives.  A copy of the letter Rep. Palazzo included with the Bibles is included below…,

Palazzo Letter

“Please find a copy of the Holy Bible to help guide you in your decision making,” he says.

Well, my first thought was – can you imagine the uproar if he’d sent out copies of the Qur’an.

After I stopped laughing, it occurred to me that maybe everyone should send a copy of their favorite religious or philosophical text to their local members of Congress, to guide them in their decision making.

But the problem is, I don’t want our lawmakers to be guided by any religious text, not the Bhagavad Gītā, the Nine Noble Virtues of Ásatrú, the Analects of Confucius, and certainly not the Holy Bible  in any of its various translations.

When our elected representatives are considering policy decisions that will affect people of all religious persuasions, the only document that I want them to use as a guide is the Constitution of the United States of America, whose first Amendment reads…,

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people to peaceably assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

And that’s when I had the idea.

I knew what I’d do to express my concerns to those in power over using the sacred text of one religion as a guide to governing people of many differing religions.  I would send every last one of them a copy of the Constitution, along with a handwritten letter explaining my concerns.

Moreover, I would encourage everyone who was concerned about this issue to do exactly the same thing.

If enough of us did that, even if we restricted our efforts to the Senators and Representatives in our own states, such an undertaking would have to be noticed.

The pragmatist within me cautioned that such an endeavor would be expensive, but a quick search found copies of the Constitution, complete with the all important Bill of Rights, available for just a little over a dollar a booklet.  I quickly ordered a handful and began making plans for my letter writing campaign.

This was going to be great!

Or maybe, it would just fizzle, but at least I would know that I’d made the effort.

A few days later the pamphlets arrived.  Looking through them, everything seemed to be in order, although there were a lot of quotes listed before the text of the Constitution itself, talking about the “Hand of Providence.”

“Hmmmm…,” I wondered, “who published this edition?”

According to the fine print it was ‘The National Center for Constitutional Studies’, which sounds innocuous enough.

There followed another brief internet search, which quickly revealed that the NCCS is a group of rabidly conservative Mormons who believe that the founding of the United States was a divine act, that the Constitution is based in Biblical principals and that the government will falter without religion (and not just any ol’ religion, mind you).

So in my desire to do good, I gave money to the enemy.

What’s worse, is the knowledge that they’ve turned the founding documents of our nation into a vehicle for their propaganda.  What good is the ‘freedom of speech’ when your opponents assume control the very words you would use to make your point?

On the surface, I suppose this seems like a small obstacle to a small protest.

And when I look at what has been going on in Furguson, Missouri…,

The hopelessness…,

The rage…,

Journalists Attacked

When we see members of the press arrested, tear gassed and shot at with rubber bullets by the men who are supposed to protect and to serve, but who choose instead to boldly trample upon that sacred 1st Amendment, how can we help but feel frustration and a certain amount of loss.

My own complaints seem so very small in comparison.

How can we ever hope to make a difference in the face of such terrible injustice?

Wouldn’t it be easier to just give up and let them have their way?

What is it they say, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.”

…,

Wait, who said that, and why?

What if there ARE no small protests?

What if the the best thing that we can do is to hold true to our beliefs, and to remind those in positions of power that they were not placed there to serve either their own interests or the whims of a particular deity (or corporate master).  They are there to serve us and that the only guidance they need in this holy task, begin with those sacred words “We the people…,”.

If nothing else, let that be the difference we make.

Now then, I know I’ve got some postage stamps around here somewhere.

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Those lines in the sand…,

Do you remember when we had to wait until five o’clock to watch the news?

No matter what was happening, or where, we had to wait to hear about it until the ‘after-school’ entertainment programs ended.  Only then, after the advertisers had their say, and with a brief orchestral fanfare, would we learn of the important world events which had transpired that day.

Oh sure, on occasion there might be something SO shocking, as to bring those fateful words into our living rooms…,

“We interrupt this broadcast for a special news report…,”

All conversation would stop as we held our collective breath.

“…reportedly will announce his resignation tonight…”

“…was found at his home in Memphis, not breathing…”

“…at the Washington Hilton Hotel, when shots were fired…”

“…obviously a major malfunction…”

“…federal building in Oklahoma City…”

It was a different era, one which had already begun to slip away by the time we watched the World Trade Center fall.  It seems strange now, to think of the news coming to us, not in a constant flow of streaming video and eye-witness tweets, but as an hour long package, parceled out between afternoon programming and the primetime sitcoms.

And as the reporting of events has become more constant, as we have grown closer, more intimate with happenings on the other side of the globe, so to has “the news” lost something of its gravitas.  Long vanished are the days when hushed audiences listened to travelers tales of distant lands; gone as well the evenings when Murrow, Cronkite or Downs could so fully command our attention from that pale flickering screen.

Today the news is there when WE want it, and on our terms.

And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing.

Indeed, I think it was easier, ‘back in the day’, for the network commentators and the newspaper men to guide our thinking, simply by the way they framed the reporting.

I mean, yes FOX News only tells the truth about 18% of the time, but we’ve got John Stewart and the entire internet out there, willing to point it out to any and all who care to listen.  Our news may not have the same polish as that which I remember from years gone by, but we certainly have a greater variety of it to choose from.

Gone are the days when someone like Orson Wells could disguise the ‘War of the Worlds’ as a series of radio news reports and inspire an actual panic in the process.  In those days, alternative news sources were nearly impossible to come by.

So, while a certain familiarity with the news may negate the high drama of the nightly broadcast, we are instead allowed the luxury of considering, from multiple perspectives, the great questions of our time.

And as I watch Iraq teetering toward dissolution, and as children from Central American countries come streaming across the Rio Grande, I have begun to wonder if the way these problems have been delivered to us has more to do with our proposed solutions, than does the actual reality ‘on the ground’.

We are told, for example, that Iraq is a great failure in our foreign policy.  Maybe the current U.S. administration is at fault for pulling us out too soon.  Or maybe the previous administration is to be blamed for putting us there in the first place.

Which of these arguments seems the most rational to us is, by and large, determined by which end of the political spectrum we inhabit.  Certainly, both arguments have their merits, but both also depend upon a single shared assumption that there should be an Iraq at all.

A Line In The Sand

In much the same way atheists and monotheists lock themselves into single-minded debates over the existence of a particular God while ignoring all the possibilities that fall outside that argument, the folks on the right and the left of the political spectrum continue to bang on with dead certainty that those lines in the sand that were drawn by the League of Nations back in the 1920’s must exist.

I am not so certain.

In fact, I have begun to wonder if those borders have not been the problem all along.

Because, we in the western world, love our borders.  We prefer the world to be broken up into nice little sections that have ‘legitimate’ governments that we can deal with using rules of diplomacy which were handed down to us by a bunch of guys in frilly frock-coats.  We insist that the rest of the world look and act like we do.  And to achieve that, there must be borders.

The drawing of lines is perhaps our greatest national fetish.

And so, here are these countries, divided by lines which ignore tribal lands and religious affiliations.  These lines pull people apart and thrust them together in uncomfortable ways, and so resentments grow, which eventually develop into unrest and finally bloodshed.

The only way to keep things calm is to rule with a heavy hand, so let’s install a despot.

Oh, our elected representatives may fuss and complain while the cameras are rolling, but in reality we like a good dictator.  A dictator gives us someone to negotiate with or to vilify.   Most importantly, a dictator will always seek to maintain the borders, and that’s what we really want.  We don’t really care if you are a good guy or a bad guy as long as you provide us with the impression of stability.

And when the revolution comes, or our troops roll in, what about democracy?

Honestly, we’re not big fans of democracy ‘over there’.  First of all, we can never trust the people to vote for a government we will approve of.  The main reason however, as demonstrated again and again, and not just in the middle-east but in former soviet block countries as well, is that a democracy does a lousy job at holding together artificial borders that were imposed by some third party.

So, it’s not really a question of who owns the fault for the splintering of Iraq.  Let’s instead stop pretending that Iraq exists at all and learn to deal (honestly for once) with the tribes on the ground.

Our fixation with borders is the cause of so many of our problems.

The same people who will fight to the last over the rights of a fertilized egg, will block any monetary appropriation to temporarily feed and house children who have dared to cross our precious border.

Why are these children so different from our own?  Because they were born on the wrong side of a line?

And why, in this country, should children in New Mexico score so far below those in Colorado in Reading and Math?  It is insanity that children living in the richest nation in the world, should suffer educational disadvantage because they live on the wrong side of a line.

Education Report Card

Oh, we love our borders.  We are a people who crave lines and boxes and limitations.

Don’t we?

We must, because we draw them everywhere!  We draw them closer and closer to ourselves, sorting out everything that is different, until finally we stand alone within the safety of our imagined borders, the world around us categorized and safe.

But what if there really are no lines?

What if it has all been a lie, and simply another means of control.

Why build a wall when you can convince people to imagine one for themselves.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

When you watch the news, when you talk to your loved ones, when you pass strangers on the street, you may see the many lines that our culture has built up around us.  You can choose to live within those boundaries or you can learn to see past them and explore new possibilities.

Those lines in the sand…,

You can either grab a shovel and struggle against the shifting sands, or watch as the winds of change eventually erase them.  The choice, as always, is yours.

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