The Kool-aid We Willingly Drink

I've never fancied myself an activist - or "attacktivist" as I have often called them. I've never known a self-labeled activist that was pleasant. They were passionate to the point of combativeness. They were consumed with their cause and they struck down anything in their way - not with pretty words of persuasion, but with words wielded like swords, felling anyone or anything that stood between them and their goal. I was both appalled and in awe. I am outspoken. Sometimes very much so. But I've never fancied that anyone cared what I had to say. That anything I could voice would carry on the winds of change and make any difference at all. And where do you sow these seeds of opinion sent out to change the world? On social media? That seems most common because people can raise armies of followers. But I have grown weary, battle fatigued I suppose.

With much apprehension I wrote this and then launched it into the world. First to see if it passed muster to be published. Then to see whether it was cringeworthy words I would regret. Would those around me retract their once pleasant views of me and trade them for darker thoughts? But I rose above fear and I owned my voice and I cast my seeds of opinion and call for change upon the winds. It is hoped the seeds for change will catch somewhere and grow knowing that it is not a hand raised to strike another down, but rather a hand extended to help another rise.

I often long for the simplicities of my childhood where there were no issues beyond who was winning the current game of monopoly, checkers, chess or cards. And when alone, reading books and traveling to places I had not yet lived long enough to travel to. And even those fond memories are assaulted by terms of "privileged." I recoil as though shot by the word.

In earnest, I know I won the parental lottery. I wanted for nothing but my every longing and whim were not met. I had enough for any child and sometimes more than many around me. I had what a hard working father as the sole wage earner could provide for his family. When he could not obtain work where he could come home to us each night, he worked away and sent his money home. I had a come-home-at-night dad for half my childhood and a send-money-home dad for half my childhood. It wasn't the absent father thing like single parent households today and yet it was an absent father and single parent raising us. I have reviewed my life a thousand times and will a thousand more looking at all the ways it made me who I am. I do know in looking at the lives of cousins, I had it all. They were below poverty. My household was above poverty. Barely, but above it. It made the difference in that their summers were spent chopping cotton to contribute earnings to their household for survival. My and my brothers summers were spent playing.

We did live a life of innocence. We were shielded from so many things because of the lifestyle our parents struggled to give us. Both my parents were raised by extended family. Complicated backstories full of shame and pain. My mother was conceived and birthed illegitimately. Today such a thing is of little consequence, but she was born in 1940. It was no small thing then. It was a brand of ill repute during that time for both mother and child and even the family they came from. My father was a menopause child - actually, one of two. My father and his brother were fraternal twins born to a woman at age 40 that had already raised two other children to maturity. By the time my father and his twin brother were eight, his older brother was serving in the Marine Corps during World War II. His sister was engaged to be married. Their mother got into prison ministry. Somehow she became pen pals with an out of state man in prison. Apparently, after their many long letters that talked about much more than religion, they "fell in love" and she abandoned her family to go set up a life with him. But even the backstory of her life was complicated. She too, was considered illegitimate and even worse, a "half-breed." Yes, children were once subjected to harsh words and judgments by society for no other reason than how they came into the world. And it formed who they became and how they viewed themselves. Some perhaps rose above it, some managed to build lives that kept it hidden. Some like my mother simmered in shame even though she did nothing wrong. I remember how she cried when she told me. She was 50 then and I was in my 30s.

So, I suppose, even though many aspects of my life show privilege, it has not been so for all my family. They strived to make their childrens' lives better than the ones they had. To quietly change the landscape so that we children would never know the pains and disparities they endured. And I went on to elevate my child above my raising. Having just the one and giving her my full attention and spoiling her by rising to her ever whim. My parents did me a service. I did not do justice to my daughter. As I watch her life, I realize that I most likely hobbled her. I never allowed her to experience want, or to strive to gain things on her own. I handed her everything. But hindsight is always 20/20.

But none of this is to deny the trials and tribulations of others or to make my life seem worthy of being considered piteous. It is simply the stage I was born to and raised on. It is the foundation of my becoming who I am. Each thing along the way a necessary element to craft me, to test me and temper me as a person. If I were carbon being pressed in the earth, I cannot say what quality of diamond I would have become. But I am not a diamond. I am a person. I am me.

But as I review my life, I see that the America that has provided me comfort and safety is unraveling. The fights are endless. I am weary. Nay, I am tired. I truly am.

I'm tired of seeing all of America divided and subdivided and divided again.

I'm tired of all the arguing about:

--mask vs no mask

--vaccinated vs unvaccinated

--shutdown vs stay open

--caring vs uncaring

--woke vs unwoke

--left vs right

--democrat vs republican

--young vs old

--black vs white

--minority vs majority

--underpriveleged vs privileged

--poor vs rich

--have nots vs haves

--religion vs non-religion

--nationals vs immigrants

--LGBTQ vs straight

So many more divides I could list. They are endless. They are pointless. They are unnecessary. Yet they have become the focal point of our existence.

It should be enough that we live in a country where we can freely be what we desire to be.

And if that freedom is only newly found in your life, absolutely revel in it. Laud it.

But do not attempt to silence the voice of another merely because you have found yours.

When you silence others because their voices are not a chorus of your own, you become an oppressor like those who once oppressed you.

Is the journey about equality? Or rise to power?

Is it championing a cause or instituting revenge politics?

Will my voice, thoughts and feelings on all this matter? Or will hatred rain down on me? And if so why? Will my words be weighted by my color? My age? My sex? My religion? My social standing? Perceptions of my privilege?

Would silence be better? But then what accusations and judgements will ensue? Apathy? Indifference? Selfishness? Ignorance?

Judge not, lest we be judged. I've heard that my whole life. But now, judging and being judged is all there is. And it's purpose?

To flip us from being the UNITED States of America to becoming the UNtied States of America.

No shots have been fired, no tanks, bomber planes or armies are at play. But we are at war amongst ourselves during our every waking moment. Social war under the guise of social justice. We eviscerate each other for our differences and build divides instead of seeking our commonalities and building community. We rise daily and don our mantles of victimhood and we run at each other to do battle in a pageantry of who had it worse and who was the worst evildoer.

They have poured it, laced with poisonous vitriol, and we have willing drank the kool-aid.

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I sincerely thank you for taking the time to read this mind salad of thoughts and embrace my attempt to pull them into comprehensive musings.

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