Wonderful and Awful

I was accused the other day, by two family members, of being anti-American. I am not. I have never been. I don't have a strong sense of nationalism, it's true. I don't fully understand nationalism or allegiance to a flag or place. I believe there are other countries in the world that are as good as the US - countries I would love to live in. I recognize that there are other places in the world where the standard of living is better than it is here - places whose systems we would be wise to emulate. I do not always respect the processes or the decisions of the government. I do not always respect the people who run the government. I am sometimes ashamed and embarrassed of what happens in the name of America and of what looks like patriotism to some (as I have been throughout the presidential campaign and as I certainly was on Tuesday night).

And sometimes I say those things out loud.

As far as I know, I'm still allowed to do that. As far as I know, free speech does not extend (yet) only to those who wrap themselves in the American flag and can fart the tune to The Star Spangled Banner. And I'm allowed to feel what I feel.

But none of my feelings or words makes me anti-American. I can feel the way I feel and still be deeply appreciative of the freedoms and opportunities I have been afforded by growing up and living here. I can have a desire to travel the world and live in other places and still think fondly of the US or be happy to come back to it. I can disavow the actions of leaders who involve us in wars we have no business fighting and still respect the people who serve.

It seems to me as though nationalism requires one to see the world in black and white. In right and wrong. In us and them.

I don't see the world that way.

I can swear allegiance to the planet and its people without singling out one flag.

Am I proud to be American? That feels to me like asking if I'm proud to be white... or if I'm proud to be a woman, or blue-eyed, or ambidextrous. I simply am those things. I didn't choose any of them, so I'm not sure I understand why I should be proud of them. Granted, I have remained in the US when I could have moved away, but we get tangled up in our lives and our people and making big changes like that is not always feasible, even if desired. But had I left, as I wanted to do several years ago (to the UK, the place of my birth), I wouldn't have been running from something I disliked; I would have been running to something I wanted. It wasn't feasible, though. So I have lived here, worked here, paid my taxes, participated in the political process, and been an active member of my community. I volunteer, I am kind to strangers, I donate to charity shops, food banks, and libraries, and I pick up litter everywhere I see it.

I take care of my community - my community in America.

I am grateful for my community - my community in America.

I love my community – my community in America.

I am proud of the way the people of my community (local and national) pull together when necessary, as I am proud of the way communities all around the world pull together when necessary... but that's about people, not places. It's always about people for me. I don't see Americans as better than any others. We are - all of us in this whole wide world - wonderful and awful. We are all human.

I am not anti-American. I simply see the world in a myriad of colors, not just black and white... and not just red, white, and blue. I won't apologize for that. I won't apologize for how I feel about this place I live, whether those feelings are negative or positive. But I understand that many people will not understand (or respect) my point of view. I don't expect them to apologize for that either.

We are all of us - in this whole wide world - wonderful and awful. We are all human. And flags, imaginary lines on maps, and the people who purport to lead us can't change that.

And I, for one, am glad of it.

I'm Going to Say It Once...

I’ve been trying to avoid political crap, especially on FB. It’s wearing me down just to look at it. Mostly I scroll past, with eyes unfocused... but sometimes I look. Often I cringe. Always I have opinions. I have stuff to say, but it really doesn’t matter to anyone but me, so I’ve been keeping quiet. But today, on this historic day, I decided I’m going to put up one post. Again, it won’t matter to anyone but me, but I’ll have said it all. And then I’ll be finished.

First, I’m not voting with my whole heart for anyone. I’m not sure I’m even voting half-heartedly. I've maybe got one ventricle in this election. But rest assured, I will be voting.

I’ve seen many posts about the fact that some 50% of voters in the US are “independent.” If that’s true (and that’s a big if), it means something significant, no doubt... but it certainly doesn’t mean they’re all on the same page. There are “independent” liberals, conservatives, libertarians (and everything in between) who would never vote the same way. I also keep hearing that there are other choices beyond Trump and Clinton; that we can show our displeasure with the system by voting for a third party, or by writing candidates in, etc. Yeah. Sure we can. But to what end? Again, what people don’t seem to be taking into consideration is the fact that all the voters who don’t like Trump or Clinton will never agree on any one candidate. So a vote for anyone else simply serves to take votes away from the party they would have supported had the nominee been a candidate they liked. ONE of those TWO candidates IS making to the White House. Period. It’s simple math. Anyone who thinks otherwise is delusional. I get it and I'm really not that smart. I simply don't understand why we're not all getting it.

I think we should work hard to change the system between election years. We need to place more focus on congressional elections. We need to make sure the people in Washington understand we don’t want many of them there. We need to do a better job at educating ourselves beyond believing pundits paid to lie, beyond taking FB memes as gospel, beyond allowing ourselves to be distracted by trivial matters while the big things go right over our heads. But right now? I think we have to work with the system we have. And, like it or not, that means voting for the established parties.

I will vote for Clinton because if I don’t - if I choose to vote for anyone else, or not vote at all - I will be throwing my vote to Trump. And that? Is INSANE. Because he is insane. He’s a reprehensible, hateful, immature bully. He has no platform or plans beyond ridiculous talking points that don’t even make sense most of the time, and some of his half-baked ideas are flat-out dangerous; he is an isolationist during a time when we need solid global connections; he can’t speak articulately on any issue and refuses to answer questions in any sort of straightforward manner (probably because he can’t); he has a documented history of shady business dealings and he still won’t release his tax returns (and I find it very interesting that his supporters don't seem to care about this at all, especially when tax rates have traditionally been far higher during Republican administrations); his speeches at his rallies have been disgusting, hate-filled rants targeted at a third-grade-level populace who is eating up his bigotry and anger. And that's not spin; that's not a blip or two taken out of context. They are his words, out of his mouth, and he's proud of them! Why anyone would want that man in the White House is beyond me. How anyone can say they would be proud to vote for him, especially if they have seen his rally speeches or his Twitter account, makes me question their sanity, their intelligence, and their compassion for the human race. And if they claim to be Christians and plan to vote for him? Well, the words I have for those people won't be found in the Bible, that's for sure (not in the New Testament, anyway). He is horrible. Horrible. Horrible.  He makes me long for Romney and Bush and McCain and I thought those guys were insane. He is an embarrassment and a shameful stain on this nation’s political process. And god knows, that’s really saying something.

So that leaves Clinton. As I say, she has my vote, but it’s a reluctant vote. It’s a ‘lesser of two evils’ vote. I’m not OK with that. But I’m far more OK with her as President than him. No one – and I mean no one on this green earth – will ever convince me she is worse than Trump, on any level. You can say she is dishonest; you can say she is unethical; you can say she has “blood on her hands.” But the fact remains, she has been investigated more than any other candidate/politician, by partisan and non-partisan groups, costing taxpayers untold amounts of money, and she has yet to be found culpable in any significant manner, in any situation. The Republicans themselves have exonerated her on numerous occasions. That makes them either (incredibly) stupid or corrupt (maybe a bit of both?), or it makes her (incredibly) smart or not guilty (probably a bit of both) – and which would you prefer in office? What really chaps my butt, though, is that absolutely everything the Republicans despise her for has been done and overlooked by their own people throughout various Republican administrations. Somehow everything is worse when she does it (or is purported to have done it). It’s been the same with President Obama, though, from the beginning of his administration, so why should we expect any less from them?

 I dread this election. I dread the months leading up to it. I dread the next four years, no matter who is in office. I dread and I worry. I worry that Trump could win. Period. I worry that Clinton could win and the obstructionist Republican congress we have currently would continue to act against the best interests of the entire country, including their own constituents. Or worse, they could maintain control under Trump and do so much damage to this country (and the world!) that we'll never recover. I worry that Democrats might gain control and not do near enough to move us forward into a healthier place. I worry that whichever candidate wins, they will continue to bow to the corporations that run our government and forget that they are there to serve us - the people.

Gah!

I still believe that we are better than this; that we are capable of so much more than this. I believe change - positive change - is coming, even if it's not going to be in the next four years. If this campaign has done nothing, it has shown each party that many, many Americans are tired of the way they've been doing things. But for now, I have to hope that enough people will simply put their grown-up pants on and do what is necessary to prove that America truly can be great; to put Trump back where he belongs - on "reality" television (ha!) and Twitter, mouthing off to anyone who insults his over-inflated, narcissistic ego; to keep us from completely and utterly self-destructing. 

And those are my two cents. Which matter to no one but me. And that's all I have to say. 

So Many Words, But Mostly Two

When Donald Trump, the man who wants to "lead" this country, stood in front of the world and implied that his penis is of better-than-adequate size, I cringed. I thought maybe, just maybe, we'd hit the bottom of the barrel. I thought that surely his vulgarity, his juvenile, narcissistic, pre-teen behavior, his foul language, and his extremely undignified and ignorant ways would finally do him in. I thought maybe his supporters would finally say, "Dude. Enough." 

I thought wrong. 

They laughed. They cheered him on. He speaks to them on a third grade level (the lowest of all the candidates), because he knows who the majority of his supporters are, and they ate it up, just like third graders hearing a dirty joke on the playground. 

I was ashamed. Embarrassed.

Again. 

But today? Well, today I crossed over into another plane of negative feelings.

I just watched clip after clip after clip of Donald Trump speaking at his rallies - clips in which he called for violence from his supporters, swearing to pay their legal fees if they injured protesters, clips in which he wished aloud that he could hurt protesters himself, and clips in which he spoke in other vile ways. They were not "liberal media" (HA!) spins. They were his words, coming from his mouth, at his rallies, to his supporters. They were and are words he is PROUD of. 

He is not even attempting to speak words that will bring us together as a nation or even to unite a party that's crumbling in on itself; he is doing his best to separate us, to segregate us; he is doing his best to open old wounds and create new ones.

And he is basking in the hatred the way the rest of us bask in sunshine.

I am sitting here shaking with shame and embarrassment, as well as disgust and anger. I am appalled. I am, like so many, utterly incredulous. 

I read a PBS poll yesterday which asked the question, "How has your view of America changed during this election?" There were nearly 600 replies. I read about 100 of them before moving on. The two most used words in the responses I saw? 

Ashamed and Embarrassed

Me, too.

I know many people who identify as Republican who also find Trump's rise shameful and embarrassing, as well as appalling, disconcerting, and surprising. They thought he was a joke. I believed he was a joke for a long time, too. I simply did not want to believe the Republican party could sink to this level - and that's saying something, given their utterly appalling behavior over the last several years; given how they've accomplished little of significance during their time in power, except finding every way imaginable to disrespect the man in the White House, except actively and knowingly widening the divide in the country, except fully admitted obstructionism (to the detriment of the entire country, their own constituents included). They have behaved like small children. Actually, no, they haven't. That's an insult to small children who can't always control their behavior. They have behaved like a group of petty, entitled, spoiled, disagreeable middle-schoolers, who, unlike real middle-schoolers, will never grow up.

The fact is, the Republican party created this whole Trump situation; they paved the way for this vile attitude spreading across America; they are 100% responsible for this shame - shame that more than half the country is reeling with today and that the rest of the world is simply shaking its head at in complete disbelief. I'm getting tired of my friends and family around the globe asking me, "Diane. What in the fresh hell is going on over there? Is this serious?" I hate that my teenager is ashamed to be American right now. I have no answers.

What I do know is that this is not what America should be. This is not what will make America great.

This is foul, disgusting, shameful, and embarrassing. It is wrong.

I'm sure I know a few people who support him - some wholeheartedly from Day One and some who will because they believe he will be the "lesser of two evils" (and frighteningly, when it comes to the battle between Trump and Cruz, I actually do believe Trump is the better of two, as I see real evil in Cruz, but when it comes to a battle between Trump and either of the Democratic candidates, I simply cannot see how he is better than either of them in any respect [and I will not vote for either of them without significant reservations]). I hope Trump's supporters really pay attention to the way he talks both to and about the people who disagree with him. 

I also hope they realize that if he ever makes it to office, there will be people who will disagree with him every single day and those third-grade-level supporters cheering at his bravado and schoolyard bully tactics right now will not mean a single thing then. Like it or not, we live in a global society and peace and prosperity for us has a whole lot to do with how we relate to others. And that requires maturity, diplomacy, and dignity, not childish name-calling and threats.

And if those supporters do pay attention, and the violent, vulgar rhetoric he spews is acceptable to them on any level, if this is the sort of speak they want coming from the White House, to their fellow countrymen and to the rest of the world, then the shame so many of us feel about Trump is duly and rightfully extended to them. 

Shame and embarrassment...

...two unpleasant words and feelings which will, hopefully, spur us on as a nation to become and behave better than we are right now. Because if we don't make things better, our shame and embarrassment are going to get so much bigger. 

And shame and embarrassment will be the least of our worries.

Politics, Yo

Politics, yo.

I know some people love the process. They revel in it. Want to be a part of it.

I'm not one of those people. 

I hate it. I hate pretty much everything about it. I think it's a vile system that thrives on greed, power, game-playing, and dishonesty. Mostly, I hate what politics have become for the ordinary person - this polarizing, living, breathing entity of US versus THEM.

If you're not with us, you're against us.

Have we ever, as a nation, been so divided? I don't think we have. I mean, every election year is ugly, no doubt, but right now? It's all so disgusting, so mean, so unpleasant, so... 

                                                                  Disheartening.

I've always been a politically opinionated person. I've always called myself an 'Independent', though I pretty much always vote one way. And since there are really only two ways to vote, I probably always will. Though there are similarities in the parties (I believe they are both controlled by corporate America), there are some significant differences, and several of those differences are so important to me that I will probably never jump the fence.

If I could? I'd remove myself from the process entirely. I'd ignore everything about it and go about my merry way, completely ignorant and blissful. But I can't. I feel that I have to vote, if for no other reason than to honor the women who fought so hard for my right to do so. And in order to vote, I have to be informed (as difficult as it may be to inform oneself, given the unreliability of the media and unbelievable amount of utter garbage that people spread around). But I will vote in this election as I have in every election in which I've participated - with a heavy heart... with the knowledge that there is no one who makes me feel really good about casting my vote.

No one.

There are, however, those who would make me feel much worse and I see it as my responsibility to do my little part (for whatever it's really worth) to make sure those people don't make it to their desired offices. But in the end, there isn't, nor has there ever been, anyone I feel wholeheartedly good about voting for.

Someone asked me the other day who my ideal candidate would be. Though there are a few people in national government I would like to see make a play for the presidency at some point, it's hard to say whether or not I'd want them to be elected until they actually do it and spell out their plans and platforms. I know the sort of person I'd like to see, though...

First, I want an atheist - someone who is not ruled by dogma, but by Humanism. A woman would be great. A black woman would be even better (as long as the country grows up and doesn't spew the ugly bigoted vitriol that's been hurled at our current President for the past 8 years). Yes, a black woman atheist with degrees in economics and perhaps the law or education. With kids in public school. I want a candidate whose moral compass is always pointing north, who always tries to do the right thing, regardless of who's trying to line her pockets. I want a candidate who sees all citizens as equal under the law, and who somehow inspires every lawmaker under her to do the same. A candidate who understands that we live in a global society and that peace is what we should be actively striving for, across the globe. I want a candidate who truly understands what it's like to live in the REAL America - the America that will bankrupt you if you get sick, the America where affordable housing is a joke and the homeless are treated like a disease, the America where the social care systems are designed to keep people in poverty, the America where for-profit prisons and the 'war on drugs' only creates more criminals, the America where guns are more plentiful than common sense, the America where wanting a college degree means being so far in debt upon graduation that you have to work for decades to pay off student loans, the America where being old is absolutely terrifying for a large number of seniors.

And I want a candidate who can find a way - some way - to make the parties work together.

I don't know that such a person exists. Well, that's not true. I'm certain she exists. She exists all over America. But I can't imagine her wanting to be President. And maybe that's the problem.

Anyone who actually wants the job is someone I don't want to have the job.

So, we're stuck with the ones who want to run. 

So, for now, though I can't remove myself from the process entirely, I will do so to the extent that I can. I'm as finished as I can be and still be informed enough to vote. I don't care what anyone else says or does about any of it. Few people want to discuss or learn; most people simply want their points of view to be heard... but hardly anyone's listening.

This next year is going to be torture. Thankfully, I don't have cable, so I can't see the campaign ads. I'm still in the process of limiting my social media feed and for the people I don't want to stop following, I'll just scroll quickly past the posts I don't want to see. I have to remind myself to stop reading the comments after nearly every online article, political or not, as in an election year, everything becomes political.

I'll make it through.

And then the election will be over.

And the bitching about the new President will begin.

Yeah. I'm really not happy about this.

The Voice

Since my daughter could talk, no topic of conversation has been off limits. We talk about anything and everything. And we talk a lot. Topics include school, friends, boys, family, the future, current events, social issues, politics, religion, movies, books, art, writers, influential people. Everything. Anything.

While some of my friends have difficulty getting words out of their teenagers, I have difficulty getting mine to stop talking. Dinnertime can last hours.

I don't mind.

Not in the least.

I'm lucky, I know. I don't pretend to believe she tells me everything she thinks and does (I probably don't want to hear it all), but I get so much.

So very much.

I know things a lot of moms probably don't know. I guard this information; I keep it close to the vest because keeping her confidence is one of the most important things I think I can do as a mother. I want her to come to me. I want her to talk to me. And I know she'll stop if she can't trust me or if she thinks I'll react badly.

I never had that sort of relationship with my parents. I mean, my dad and I could talk for days, sure, but our conversations were about issues or events; they were not about feelings or personal struggles; they most certainly were not about uncomfortable topics (you know the ones). I never had those conversations with my mom either.

I still don't.

I vowed I would have a different relationship with my child. And I do. And I'm grateful.

Early on, I made sure she understood that the way I think, my opinions, and how I view the world are all about me and my experiences. I made sure she understood that the way she thinks, her opinions, and how she views the world have to be about her and her experiences. I've always told her that if she thinks like me, that's great... and if she doesn't think like me, that's great, too. As long as she's traveling her own path, as long as she reaches her conclusions through research and thoughtful contemplation, I'll be happy.

OK, maybe not happy. I mean, my dad surely wasn't happy when I disagreed with him about pretty much everything. I think he would have rather had a child who thought the way he did (and he did get two of them), but I think he was secretly quite pleased that I sorted things out for myself.

I have worked hard to make sure that when we discuss issues of the day, she gets to hear, to the best of my ability, all sides - my view as well as other views, the merits and negatives of all perspectives, the reasons I think the way I do and the reasons others think the way do. Sometimes it's not easy, but I think it's always important.

For a long time, when we discussed various issues, I heard my voice coming back at me. I think that's normal. When kids are forming opinions, they very often mirror their parents' views at first.

But recently, my voice has been absent. In its place I've heard another voice.

Hers.

And it's clear. It's articulate. It's coming from a smart, witty, wise person - from a woman, not a child, and most certainly not from an entitled, apathetic teenager - the teenagers other people talk so much about... the teenagers I don't know.

Last night, at dinner, we had a conversation about the upcoming election, as we have been wont to do for the past several months. She has been incredibly interested in this campaign, following the candidates, watching the debates, reading, asking questions...

I find this really cool, especially given the fact that she can't even vote yet.

She talked about what impresses her, worries her, angers her, perplexes her. She said she had taken a long online test, designed to determine which candidate she thinks most like. Some of the results surprised her a bit at first. She admitted that there were some questions she couldn't answer intelligently, because she didn't know enough about a few of the issues.

"I have to learn more," she said.

I have to learn more.

That statement made this mama so proud.

She said she doesn't understand how people can say they're not interested in politics, because politics aren't just about who wants to get elected to what office... they're about life and how ours will be impacted by the governments we allow.

As I say, the words coming from her mouth lately have not been mine. I know this because they are words I haven't even thought of. They come forth unrehearsed and off the cuff. They show critical thinking and a person with an open, curious, thirsty mind, unwilling to simply accept the status quo.

Two years ago, a student teacher wrote Ryan a letter; in it, she said that Ryan has a special something - a spark -  and when they encounter it, teachers count themselves lucky.

I've always seen that spark.

And now I'm hearing it.

I look forward to the flame...

This Story Doesn't Have Anything to Do with What's Happening in Ferguson...

A few weeks ago, I had to take a client to one of those Emergi-care places. She'd gotten a ring stuck on her finger and it needed to be cut off (the ring, not the finger). Her doctor couldn't do it, so he sent us there, as he knew they had a tool that could cut the ring. In the waiting room, I met a young father, who was there with his sick toddler and an infant in a carrier. The dad was so gentle and patient with his little boy, which impressed me (I love to watch good daddies) and, as you do in situations like that, we struck up a conversation. The little guy had a stomach bug - the same one his older brother had a few days prior. Dad was hoping the baby wasn't going to get it, too. We chatted for a bit and then they were called up to the intake desk. I heard the girl who was checking them in ask if they'd traveled outside the US lately - to Africa specifically. The dad looked surprised and responded that they hadn't. The intake clerk explained that she had to ask everyone because of the Ebola scare.

Just as the dad and his two little ones were called back to the exam rooms by the nurse, the next patient was called to the intake desk - an older man with an injured wrist. Again, the clerk asked the travel/Ebola questions, Again she said, "We have to ask everyone, because of the Ebola scare."

Then my client was called to the intake desk. I went with her. She was asked a series of questions, which I helped her answer, and then we were told to go back to our seats in the waiting room and the nurse would call us back in a few minutes.

No Ebola questions...

My client went back to her seat but I leaned in and asked the intake clerk why she hadn't asked us if we'd traveled out of the US - to Africa specifically. She looked surprised. I said I heard her asking the young dad and the other gentleman in front of us (both of whom were, I might have forgotten to mention, black) and I heard her say she had to ask everyone. But she didn't ask us (my client, I might have forgotten to mention, is white).

She stammered that she guessed she forgot.

She forgot.

Really?

I said, "You know, I have friends from Africa and friends working in Africa right now. It's entirely possible that I could have traveled there recently. That guy in front of us, though? The one with three kids under the age of five? It's not likely he's gone anywhere lately, except to preschool, daycare, and the grocery store."

She was a deer caught in headlights.

"Well... um... have you traveled to Africa lately?"

"No. But that's not the point is it? If you really do have to ask everyone, you really ought to ask everyone." And I walked back to my seat.

This story doesn't have anything to do with what's happening in Ferguson.

Not really.

But it sort of does.

You might have to bear with me, though, as I try to get it out. I've been so disturbed, like so many, by what's been happening there. It makes my heart hurt on so many levels. I've been observing quietly from my little corner of Pigsknuckle; I've seen the anger and the pain and ugliness. I've seen amazing and beautiful little slivers of humanity and kindness and love. I've seen people judge and jump to conclusions, speaking as if they were there and know exactly what happened. And I've seen so many people take sides.

I can't take sides.

I wasn't there. I don't know what happened. I've read accounts and testimony that simply don't make sense to me, it's true. But I wasn't there. And since the grand jury declined to indict, I've read how legal experts and even the American Bar Association thinks the whole situation was mishandled. But I wasn't there (and I don't trust the media reports. At all). When it comes down to it, I don't know.

But here's what I do know...

I know there are some really amazing folks in law enforcement - people who always try to do the right thing and who do what they do because they truly want to serve and protect. I know this because I know some of those people personally. I'm related to some of them.

I know that there are times when good officers have to do awful things to protect themselves or others.

I know there are some people in law enforcement who are bullies - people who feel they are above the law and who don't tell the truth and do ugly things simply because they can. Not all officers are heroes. They're just not.

I know that you can support law enforcement and still understand and accept that your support is not (or shouldn't be) unconditional.

I know that the law is supposed to work a certain way. I know it is supposed to treat all people equally.

I know it doesn't. It doesn't come anywhere close.

I know that all kids make mistakes. All kids screw up - sometimes in big ways. Most kids are guilty of bad judgment at one time or another. Lots of kids push authority figures to the limit.

I know that unless you're in a kid's shoes and you live his life, you can't truly understand why he acts the way he does. I know that if you try to understand, you both give and receive a gift.

I know that people will lie to protect themselves or to get the result they want. Maybe not all people, maybe not in every situation, but people will and do lie.

I know there is inequality in our society. It is deep and abiding. It is pervading. It is damaging.
I see it every day. I saw it that day in the Emergi-care office.

I know that inequality breeds discontent and anger and frustration that is every bit as deep and abiding.

I know that anger and frustration can reach a tipping point and the result can be violence.

I know that the result can also be change.

I know the two are not mutually exclusive but I believe change without violence is better.

I know that we have the power to come together for change.

I know that we must come together for change.

I know that we must change how we view each other; we must begin to see ourselves - all of us - as simply HUMAN, as connected.

I know we have to do it soon.

I know that enough people have died.

Portrait of an Atheist

A friend of mine is agonizing over the idea of "coming out."

No, he's not gay.

He's an atheist.

And he's very nervous about exiting the non-believer closet.

You see, he fears judgment and rejection -- from family, friends, co-workers. And honestly? I get that. I've been rejected as both a friend and as a romantic partner. I've been judged and shunned (kind of rudely at times, too), by people who consider me not-worth-knowing because I don't believe in their god.

Meh. Their loss.

So, given this seemingly inevitable rejection, my friend thinks I'm brave for being able to announce to people that I don't believe in a god... their god... any god. And he asked how I came to be so brave.

Truth is?

It's not bravery. It's just part of who I am. And it's been a part of who I am for a good portion of my life -- since high school, really. Now, it's not all of who I am... it doesn't define me any more than any one thing about me defines me... but it's part of who I am.

I'm not ashamed of it.

I'm not proud of it either.

It just is.

But his questions and our discussions of late have got me thinking about it; about how we, as a group, are perceived by the world in general... by people who do believe in a god.

In my circle of friends (and in my extended [but definitely not my immediate] family), being an atheist is not really an unusual thing, though it's true that the majority (but definitely not the vast majority) of my peeps fall into the believers-of-something category.

I'm sort of non-discriminatory that way.

There are a whole lot of different types of atheists, just like there are a whole lot of different types of Christians and other people of faith... and while I've met most sorts, most of my atheist friends think more or less the way I do. And we laugh (and shake our heads) at the way we are sometimes perceived, so I figured maybe I could give you all a general picture of atheism from my point of view. Again, I don't presume to speak for all atheists, the same way most of my Christian friends wouldn't presume to speak for all Christians (since you all fall all over the Jesus Spectrum)... but this is the way I see it and the way I "practice" atheism...

• First and foremost, we do not eat babies or kick puppies. Or eat puppies and kick babies. Anymore. (That's so old school.)
• We do not worship the devil. See, the devil is part of religion... and we kind of reject that.
•  Even though some of us (and I'm mentioning no names here) might suggest to the Jehovah's Witnesses who knock on our doors that we sacrifice live animals to Beelzebub on a weekly basis, we don't. Really.
• I'd wager that for most of us (me included), atheism is not a way to piss off our mothers. No matter what our mothers think. (It might, however, be a nice little coincidence!)
• Lots of us don't actually claim to know beyond all doubt that there is no god (and yes, I know some of us do... and yes, I know they can quite arrogant about it. Arrogance falls all up and down the religious fence). But unlike people of faith who feel their god, we don't. So we rely on what we know and on what makes sense to us. And what makes sense to us is different from what makes sense to believers. And that? Is actually OK.
• Related to the previous point, lots of us don't even want to argue about it. Why would we? Here's the way I see it: many people more brilliant than I don't believe. Many people more brilliant than I do believe. Who am I to say any of them are wrong? And what can I bring up that they haven't already covered? So I'll just go with what I feel. You go with what you feel. You don't try to change my mind and I won't try to change yours. It's all good.
• Many of us fall into the Humanist category, which means we believe you don't need God to be a good person; we believe people are capable of choosing to do the right thing simply because it's the right thing and not because there could be divine repercussions.
• Given that Humanist thing, most of us have very strong moral compasses/senses of right and wrong, and we tend to stay the course we set for ourselves. When you have no one but yourself from whom to receive absolution, you kind of try to be a good person. Because I don't know about you, but I'm far tougher on myself than any god could be, that's why.
• There are some awful atheists out there, for sure. There are some awful Christians and other believers out there, too. In fact, our prisons are full of people who believe in God. There are a whole lot more believers in jail than non-believers (it's true, look it up). Bottom line? Awful is not confined to any one group of people.
• Lots of us work in service industries because we want to help people. We also volunteer in our communities, we work with kids, we start non-profits, we feed the hungry... we do all manner of good things. It's the moral compass thing. It makes us feel good to do good.
• We love our children. We just choose not to indoctrinate them into the church. And this might shock you, but many of us tell our kids that they need to travel their own spiritual paths (wherever they might lead) -- when they're old enough to understand what that means. In the interim, we teach them right from wrong (again, that moral compass thing).
• Believe it or not, lots of us know even more about religion and the Bible than many believers. See, most of us aren't born atheists; we don't just wake up one day and decide we don't believe. Lots of us were raised in church, right alongside you... but our paths went a different way.
• A bunch of us celebrate Christmas. Because we like presents, that's why. And because the holiday actually focuses on a boatload of traditions and symbols that have nothing to do with Christianity. Hell, Christ wasn't even born at Christmas. Oh, by the way, Happy Holidays!
• And on that note, loads of us believe Christ did live... and that he was probably a pretty great guy (some of us even try to live by many of the values and lessons attributed to him). We just think he was human... and that the Bible - a cool book with some interesting (and some bizarre) stories and lessons - was written by men.
• We don't worry about Hell. We don't believe in it. Well, not in the conventional sense. I figure there are any number of Hells right here on Earth and we each encounter - and sometimes live in - our own, while we're alive.
• We can be thankful without thanking a god (even if we do sometimes say, "thank God!" It's a habit. Sue us). Gratitude doesn't have to be given to any one entity to be valid. Just putting it out there -- just feeling it -- is nice.
• Atheists are not unhappy people who hate Life. Well, there are some like that, certainly, just as there are Christians and other believers like that. And honestly? In my life? I've met many more miserable Christians than I've met miserable atheists. Just sayin'.
• We do believe pretty strongly in the separation of church and state. See, we don't want to stop people from worshipping -- most of us really don't even care what anyone else believes; we simply don't want other peoples' religious views forced on us by our government. It's a freedom of and freedom from religion thing. I know that's one that raises a lot of ire (and it could be a 100-page post all by itself), but it is what it is.
• We know you don't really get us. We kind of don't get you either. But that's OK. It really and truly is. We love lots of you anyway. And we know you love us, too. It's OK. You can admit it.
• Lots of us actually worry about offending our believer friends by stating our views out loud. This seems silly, given that our believer friends don't tend to worry about offending us by stating their views. Go figure.
• We tend not to reject people as friends (or even lovers) because of Believer status. But lots of us have been rejected for being non-believers. Go figure.

I could go on and on and on, but the bottom line is that, like every group of people, our views are diverse and complex (again, I didn't speak here for all atheists, as that would be impossible. I spoke for myself and, I think, for most of the people I personally know who think the way I do).

In the end, we're just people. Most of us are good... some of us are jerks... just like every other group of people. We love, we care, we work hard, we give, we teach, we laugh and cry and bleed and yell and do everything else that everyone else does... except believe in God. We're not defective or flawed or evil because of our non-belief. We're not people to fear or loathe or pity. Our non-belief doesn't affect anyone else's beliefs in any way, shape, or form. Faith is in you... it's part of you... and it can't be taken or shaken or altered or threatened by anyone else's view.

And given all I've said, I think that my friend should have nothing to fear by stating his beliefs -- or non-beliefs, as the case may be. And I hope one day he feels safe enough to do just that.

On Living Gracefully

According to Wikipedia, the concept of grace is present in many religions and "...has been defined as the divine influence which operates in humans to regenerate and sanctify..."

Now, I don't believe in divine influence. I don't believe in religion. I don't even believe in God.

But I believe in grace.

I believe we each have the capacity within ourselves to regenerate... to sanctify... to make whole what was broken in our hearts, minds, and spirits... to forgive ourselves our failings, no matter how egregious they seem... and to begin anew -- again. And again.

And again.

I believe it -- I do -- but I don't always put the belief into practice. I have lived for a long time, bogged down by the failures of yesterday and, at times even, the failures I see coming (which is nuts, I know).

(I've never claimed to be completely sane.)

One of my (newer) favorite quotes is from F. Scott Fitzgerald...

It's actually part of a larger quote from The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, a beautiful short story-turned-movie (one of my favorites) about a man who is born old, and lives his life backward:

For what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit. Stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.

For me, this sums up the concept of grace.

I've started on a path this year that feels different to me from any path I've been on before. I'm not entirely sure if I chose it or if it chose me, but I'm on it, regardless. It's new, it's been startling at times, and it's requiring me to look at others, at myself, and at the things I've believed for a long time, in a new light -- from a new perspective.

It has forced me to start over in many ways.

It has caused me to see that, in order to move forward, I have to let go of the things that are holding me back -- the regrets, the failures, the criticisms, the judgments -- of myself and others.

It has made me realize how important forgiveness is -- not just forgiveness of others, but (and maybe more importantly) forgiveness of myself.

It is helping me to understand that when I fall, when I mess up, when I let myself or someone else down, it's not finished. I can start all over again. And again.

And again.

It is forcing me to live more gracefully.

And that?

Is a very good thing.

Rest in Peace, Sir

His work is finished.

But there is still much to do...

And how many of us are under-utilizing our good heads, good hearts, and literate tongues and pens?

Rest in peace, sir.

And may your legacy inspire us...

To do better.

To do more.

To do good.

To use our gifts... to use our good.

And to be heroes -- whether to one small child or to entire nations.

Rest in peace, sir, and thank you.

Thank you for the way you used your good head, your good heart, and your literate tongue and pen.

What gifts you possessed. What gifts you left us. What a gift you were.