I was listening to a talk radio show today, and the host was discussing the latest Don Imus mishap. The host stated that it is often very difficult to discuss racial issues in the media. He identified himself as a 44 year old, White male, and it was his opinion that the moment anyone in the media says something pertaining to race, it can be easily misconstrued, and once that happens the public automatically labels you as a racist. As I was listening and thinking about the points that he was making, he said something that really grabbed my attention. He made the comment, "Any rational person that knows about slavery, realizes how horrible it was, but I'd like to think that we are at a point where we are moving past slavery." *
I sighed aloud, gave Dan a mini-rant about how that statement was short sighted, and silently vowed to turn this into a blog post. So here we go...
The history of U.S. slavery is a painful one. African men, women, and children were abducted from their homes, and forced to move halfway around the world to be used as unpaid servants. These people were auctioned off as cattle or some other type of livestock. Their families were torn apart, mothers and fathers were separated from their children, and wives were separated from their husbands. Slaves were regularly beaten as motivation to work harder, killed for sport, and the women were raped at the master's whim. If women had children in those days, they had no rights to them at all. They were property of the slave owner. These people were robbed of their religion, their culture, they were even robbed of their names (Slaves were often given the last name of their owners. As a result, today, most Black Americans whose ancestry lies in U.S slavery, still retain the surname of their ancestors slave owners).
As if the physical abuse wasn't enough, there was a good amount of mental and emotional abuse that slaves had to endure.
Slaves were consistently told they were ugly, stupid, unworthy of respect, and didn't deserve the same rights as others simply because of their appearance; because of the color of their skin, or the kinkiness in their hair. They were told that they were evil. To sum it all up, Black was bad, White was good, and that's just the way it was. This belief system was regarded as truth by adults, and they in turn taught it to their children. When those children grew up and had children of their own, those very same beliefs were passed down, and the cycle went on and on. Now while the slave owners were instilling these values in their own children, they were also relaying this same information to the slaves themselves, and you know what? The slaves internalized it, and although I don't believe it was intentional, they passed this same belief down to their own children. So what did all of this produce you ask? It produced a nation of both Black and White people that believed that the color of their skin determined their worth. It produced a perception among African-Americans that they were their own worst enemy, and all of this, every bit of it, was based on lies.
Now, U.S. Slavery lasted for over 200 years. Not, 5 years, not 10 years, but 246 years. If we say each generation is about 20 years, slavery lasted for about 12 generations.
After more than two centuries of bondage, slavery became illegal in 1865. The slaves were freed without a dime to their name, but they were freed nonetheless.
But there was a problem. While slavery became illegal in 1865, the legal ramifications of slavery didn't quite end until 1964ish (ie. Civil Rights Act of 1964, Voting Rights Act of 1965) That's basically another 5 generations (1865-1964). And if you notice I said legal ramifications, not social ramifications. Although there were laws on the books that said Blacks were equal, society didn't always agree. If you question whether or not racism was socially acceptable after the Civil Rights Movement, all you need to do is read about the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment, which lasted until the early 70's, to realize racism still existed at that time.
Now I'm sure a lot of you reading, know the history of slavery in the U.S., but I wrote that very abbreviated version of it to say this:
What you see today, in 2008, is the product of 17 generations of struggle, pain, intolerance, fear, hate, and disrespect, with a side of physical, emotional and sexual abuse.
To even imply that what had been built, nurtured, and sustained over 17 generations, can and has been eradicated in 2 generations (1965-2008) is downright insulting. Are we as a nation making strides and moving in the right direction? Without a doubt, the answer to that question is an emphatic yes. But to say that slavery and racism are not relevant to our present day society is foolishness, in my opinion.
* Since I didn't record the talk radio show I can't confirm what I typed was a word for word quote, but that was the sentiment expressed.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Loss of Innocence
Reminisce with me for a moment, will you?
Let's go back in time, way back. Back to when storks delivered babies and little people lived inside the television. Back to a time where Santa Claus was real and the Tooth Fairy left money under your pillow. Yes, lets go back...
Let's go to a time of youth; a time of innocence. Ah yes, the good ol' days.
Remember how much fun it was to play outside for hours on end? Or how thrilled you were when your parents bought a new toy for you?
Speaking of toys, do you see this toy below? This is one of Ian's favorite toys.
He will crawl up to the basketball goal, grab one of the toy basketballs, and DUNK IT! The little scoreboard section lights up, and it plays a little song and there is even fake crowd/applause sounds. It's pretty cool.
Now Ian doesn't know about batteries, or the fact that there is a little lever that trips whenever the ball goes through the goal to signal the music/scoreboard. All he knows is that if he can manage to put that ball through the circle, the baby party will begin.
One morning as I was preparing Ian's bottle, I heard him grab the toy basketball. Just a few moments later, I heard "dun dun na naaaaaaa" (that's the best I can do to imitate the initial sound played when a basket is made. use your imagination).
Me: "Whoo hoo!! Way to go Ian! Yeah!!"
As I continued in the kitchen, I noticed that Ian was silent for a little bit. Just when I was about to check to make sure he didn't get into something he shouldn't have, I heard "dun dun na naaaaaaa".
Me again: "Yippee, Pooh. You made another one." <dun dun na naaaaaaa> "Alright Ian, you're on a ro...." <dun dun na naaaaaaa> "Wow, you're getting really goo..." <dun dun na naaaaaaa>
As you can imagine, by this time I'm eagerly heading towards the living room to see my baby Shaq perform. Busy with visions of NBA drafts, early retirement, and season tickets for my favorite NBA team (the one Ian would be playing for of course), it never dawned on me that while I had been hearing the music to signal a basket had been made, I had not been hearing the basketball go through the hoop.
Yep, that's right. When I got to the living room, this is what I saw.
If you notice, Ian doesn't have a basketball in his hand. Nope, they are both safe and sound. He did figure out that it wasn't the ball going through the hoop that started the fun, it was the lever.
Ah, they grow up so fast :)
Let's go back in time, way back. Back to when storks delivered babies and little people lived inside the television. Back to a time where Santa Claus was real and the Tooth Fairy left money under your pillow. Yes, lets go back...
Let's go to a time of youth; a time of innocence. Ah yes, the good ol' days.
Remember how much fun it was to play outside for hours on end? Or how thrilled you were when your parents bought a new toy for you?
Speaking of toys, do you see this toy below? This is one of Ian's favorite toys.
He will crawl up to the basketball goal, grab one of the toy basketballs, and DUNK IT! The little scoreboard section lights up, and it plays a little song and there is even fake crowd/applause sounds. It's pretty cool.
Now Ian doesn't know about batteries, or the fact that there is a little lever that trips whenever the ball goes through the goal to signal the music/scoreboard. All he knows is that if he can manage to put that ball through the circle, the baby party will begin.
One morning as I was preparing Ian's bottle, I heard him grab the toy basketball. Just a few moments later, I heard "dun dun na naaaaaaa" (that's the best I can do to imitate the initial sound played when a basket is made. use your imagination).
Me: "Whoo hoo!! Way to go Ian! Yeah!!"
As I continued in the kitchen, I noticed that Ian was silent for a little bit. Just when I was about to check to make sure he didn't get into something he shouldn't have, I heard "dun dun na naaaaaaa".
Me again: "Yippee, Pooh. You made another one." <dun dun na naaaaaaa> "Alright Ian, you're on a ro...." <dun dun na naaaaaaa> "Wow, you're getting really goo..." <dun dun na naaaaaaa>
As you can imagine, by this time I'm eagerly heading towards the living room to see my baby Shaq perform. Busy with visions of NBA drafts, early retirement, and season tickets for my favorite NBA team (the one Ian would be playing for of course), it never dawned on me that while I had been hearing the music to signal a basket had been made, I had not been hearing the basketball go through the hoop.
Yep, that's right. When I got to the living room, this is what I saw.
If you notice, Ian doesn't have a basketball in his hand. Nope, they are both safe and sound. He did figure out that it wasn't the ball going through the hoop that started the fun, it was the lever.
Ah, they grow up so fast :)
Monday, June 16, 2008
Not the best idea I've had
For Father's day, I thought it would be cool to decorate Dan's card with Ian's footprints and handprints (is that a word?). Ian's footprints were so tiny when he was born, I thought it was be a cool comparison to show just how far he has come.
Impressed with my stroke of genius, I loaded Ian up in the car, and off we went to the craft store to buy blue, non-toxic, water soluble paint. After we made our paint purchase, it was time to go to work. "This shouldn't take more than 5 minutes", I thought to myself. "Get the paint, pour it into a container, dab hands/feet, get the imprints, and clean up. No problem."
What I forgot, is that my sweet baby boy is not the same barely mobile baby of few months ago. That baby of yesteryear was content to lay on his playmat or sit in his bouncy chair for hours on end.
The Ian of today, however, he is a mover and a shaker. He can crawl from the living room to the front door in 7 seconds flat. He's got places to go and people to see and he will not remain in one spot for more than, oh, 10 seconds.
All those facts totally slipped my mind.
Anyway, with our newly purchase paint, I grabbed a container and poured a wee bit of the blue paint into it. That was easy enough. I decided to start with his feet. I figured his feet would be the easiest and I would be able to keep a firm grasp on his foot, on the off chance he decided to wiggle his foot around.
I dipped Ian's foot into the blue paint. He had a look on his face that said "I don't know about this" but nothing could have prepared me for what was to come. I went to create the imprint of his foot on the card, and you could've sworn that I stuck his foot into the mouth of a hungry shark. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH" he shrieked, and then he did what any normal person would do when trying to defend yourself against a vicious shark attacking your foot. He kicked. I have never seen his left leg move so fast in my life. He kicked and wiggled away from me and then proceeded to roll in the floor, flailing his legs back and forth. When I finally caught him, both his legs and the floor were smeared with blue paint.
I grabbed this still wriggling child, took him into the bathroom and cleaned his legs and feet. I assured Ian that everything was OK and he calmed down.
The freshly calmed Ian and I went to have a look at the card, and there was blue blob that in no way, shape, or form resembled his foot. "Oh well", I thought. "I'll just forget the feet imprints. We'll have better luck with his hands."
That's right, I, the naive parent, still thought I could manage to get decent handprints from the little one. So we repeated the process, except this time with his left hand.
The reaction was immediate this go 'round. After I removed Ian's hand from the paint, he immediately balled it up into a fist and began yelling. I managed to get him to open his hand and quickly dabbed it on the card before he got his hand free, (the kid is freakishly strong) and then he did it. In an attempt to get the paint off of his hand, he smeared it all over his face.
I again, scooped him up and took him to the bathroom. After I made sure that he didn't have any paint in his mouth, I looked at both of us in the mirror and I completely lost it. I started laughing and I couldn't stop. Ian had managed not only to cover his own face in enough blue paint, making him worthy of smurf status, but I was also the proud owner of a few blue streaks on my face as well.
After we were both all cleaned up, I promised myself to make sure all arts and crafts projects take place outside of the house.
Ah, the joys of parenting.
Impressed with my stroke of genius, I loaded Ian up in the car, and off we went to the craft store to buy blue, non-toxic, water soluble paint. After we made our paint purchase, it was time to go to work. "This shouldn't take more than 5 minutes", I thought to myself. "Get the paint, pour it into a container, dab hands/feet, get the imprints, and clean up. No problem."
What I forgot, is that my sweet baby boy is not the same barely mobile baby of few months ago. That baby of yesteryear was content to lay on his playmat or sit in his bouncy chair for hours on end.
The Ian of today, however, he is a mover and a shaker. He can crawl from the living room to the front door in 7 seconds flat. He's got places to go and people to see and he will not remain in one spot for more than, oh, 10 seconds.
All those facts totally slipped my mind.
Anyway, with our newly purchase paint, I grabbed a container and poured a wee bit of the blue paint into it. That was easy enough. I decided to start with his feet. I figured his feet would be the easiest and I would be able to keep a firm grasp on his foot, on the off chance he decided to wiggle his foot around.
I dipped Ian's foot into the blue paint. He had a look on his face that said "I don't know about this" but nothing could have prepared me for what was to come. I went to create the imprint of his foot on the card, and you could've sworn that I stuck his foot into the mouth of a hungry shark. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH" he shrieked, and then he did what any normal person would do when trying to defend yourself against a vicious shark attacking your foot. He kicked. I have never seen his left leg move so fast in my life. He kicked and wiggled away from me and then proceeded to roll in the floor, flailing his legs back and forth. When I finally caught him, both his legs and the floor were smeared with blue paint.
I grabbed this still wriggling child, took him into the bathroom and cleaned his legs and feet. I assured Ian that everything was OK and he calmed down.
The freshly calmed Ian and I went to have a look at the card, and there was blue blob that in no way, shape, or form resembled his foot. "Oh well", I thought. "I'll just forget the feet imprints. We'll have better luck with his hands."
That's right, I, the naive parent, still thought I could manage to get decent handprints from the little one. So we repeated the process, except this time with his left hand.
The reaction was immediate this go 'round. After I removed Ian's hand from the paint, he immediately balled it up into a fist and began yelling. I managed to get him to open his hand and quickly dabbed it on the card before he got his hand free, (the kid is freakishly strong) and then he did it. In an attempt to get the paint off of his hand, he smeared it all over his face.
I again, scooped him up and took him to the bathroom. After I made sure that he didn't have any paint in his mouth, I looked at both of us in the mirror and I completely lost it. I started laughing and I couldn't stop. Ian had managed not only to cover his own face in enough blue paint, making him worthy of smurf status, but I was also the proud owner of a few blue streaks on my face as well.
After we were both all cleaned up, I promised myself to make sure all arts and crafts projects take place outside of the house.
Ah, the joys of parenting.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Future Star? You be the judge
My dad had a dream about Ian. In this dream Ian was an 18 year old young man and my dad made the comment that future Ian looks a lot like the young singer Chris Brown.
So what do you think, is he right? Does Ian have a future as an R&B crooner?
So what do you think, is he right? Does Ian have a future as an R&B crooner?
Friday, May 30, 2008
The "conversation" continues
Remember the email "conversation" that I previously had with my co-worker? Well, he sent me a follow-up email. The things touched on in his reply were:
I know what you mean about coming up with a loss about some of the painful life experiences that we go through. There is one main experience that I’m at a bit of a loss about . . . The main thing I really took away from it was an opportunity to show love . . . I also wonder if maybe it’s not about what I need to learn (it's not all about me), but maybe there are lessons for others involved as well, or maybe someone else will be benefit from watching how I handled the difficult situations in my life. Maybe I can give hope to someone without spirituality or faith that we can make it through the rough times and come out OK in the end. I don't know. I just can't believe all of these things that happen in our lives, and the lives of people around us are completely pointless. I hope you understand, that I’m not trying to provide you with a specific answer as to why XXXXX's mom’s situation played out like it did, I’m just telling you about different thoughts that have run through my head and have given me the tiny bit of sanity and peace that I needed to carry on.
I think some churches do have that don’t ask mentality, and to just have faith, and that if you somehow question God, you are hell bound. I think part of that is due to the fact that clergymen/women of churches don't have the all the answers, and for so long it seems like Christianity has always been about knowing all the answers. I feel like we should be encouraged to ask the hard questions, listen to everyones perspective, and acknowledge that we just don't know it all. I’m trying to learn that I don’t need to have the answers to everything, but that I can sit back and go through the journey of life and just absorb and even enjoy the questions. It’s kind of how I view driving a car. I don’t understand the inner workings of a car. I’ve had people explain spark plugs, radiators, engines, distributer caps, and what not, but I don’t get it. I’ve just decided to focus on the stuff I do understand about cars (oil changes, air filters, tire pressure, alignments) and to enjoy the benefits of the car such as road trips, the music from the radio, air conditioning, and the basic getting from point A to point B.
I also am not a fan of what I’ve heard referred to as fire insurance salesman. These are the people that continually preach a "gospel" of hellfire and damnation. There is no doubt that fear can be a big motivator, but it seems at some point we should attempt overcome fear with love. I like the quote from the bible that says something to the effect of perfect love drives out fear, because fear is based on punishment. I think we've focused on punishment so much that we've forgotten what it means to love.
I once read somewhere that human beings are genetically 99% similar to one another (or some high percentage like that). That was amazing to me, because we (the general public) seem to focus on the 1% where we are different-Hair color, skin color, height, weight, etc. Then when you throw in societal factors like wealth and status, we end up dividing ourselves even more. It seems like this is what is going on in the current state of Christianity and religion as a whole. We are all so busy trying to identify how we are not like one another instead of celebrating the ways in which we are so very similar. I’m really guilty of this. I remember there was a time when I was trying to figure what phrase I should use for my religious identity because I didn’t want to use the word Christianity. I didn’t want people to confuse me with those ‘other’ type of Christians (other = Christians that I disagreed with on some points). I had to realize that all of these labels that we have constructed for ourselves can’t completely encompass all of a person’s individual beliefs. It may get you in the general neighborhood, but if someone wants to know what I’m about, or if I want to know what someone else is about, we just have to take the time to talk and get to know one another.
I have to say, these faith based conversations with my co-worker was most unexpected, but it's been very enlightening.
- Follow-up to bad things happening to good people
- Christian faith that is rooted in the fear of Hell
- Christian leaders that don't welcome tough questions
- The many differences among Christian denominations
I know what you mean about coming up with a loss about some of the painful life experiences that we go through. There is one main experience that I’m at a bit of a loss about . . . The main thing I really took away from it was an opportunity to show love . . . I also wonder if maybe it’s not about what I need to learn (it's not all about me), but maybe there are lessons for others involved as well, or maybe someone else will be benefit from watching how I handled the difficult situations in my life. Maybe I can give hope to someone without spirituality or faith that we can make it through the rough times and come out OK in the end. I don't know. I just can't believe all of these things that happen in our lives, and the lives of people around us are completely pointless. I hope you understand, that I’m not trying to provide you with a specific answer as to why XXXXX's mom’s situation played out like it did, I’m just telling you about different thoughts that have run through my head and have given me the tiny bit of sanity and peace that I needed to carry on.
I think some churches do have that don’t ask mentality, and to just have faith, and that if you somehow question God, you are hell bound. I think part of that is due to the fact that clergymen/women of churches don't have the all the answers, and for so long it seems like Christianity has always been about knowing all the answers. I feel like we should be encouraged to ask the hard questions, listen to everyones perspective, and acknowledge that we just don't know it all. I’m trying to learn that I don’t need to have the answers to everything, but that I can sit back and go through the journey of life and just absorb and even enjoy the questions. It’s kind of how I view driving a car. I don’t understand the inner workings of a car. I’ve had people explain spark plugs, radiators, engines, distributer caps, and what not, but I don’t get it. I’ve just decided to focus on the stuff I do understand about cars (oil changes, air filters, tire pressure, alignments) and to enjoy the benefits of the car such as road trips, the music from the radio, air conditioning, and the basic getting from point A to point B.
I also am not a fan of what I’ve heard referred to as fire insurance salesman. These are the people that continually preach a "gospel" of hellfire and damnation. There is no doubt that fear can be a big motivator, but it seems at some point we should attempt overcome fear with love. I like the quote from the bible that says something to the effect of perfect love drives out fear, because fear is based on punishment. I think we've focused on punishment so much that we've forgotten what it means to love.
I once read somewhere that human beings are genetically 99% similar to one another (or some high percentage like that). That was amazing to me, because we (the general public) seem to focus on the 1% where we are different-Hair color, skin color, height, weight, etc. Then when you throw in societal factors like wealth and status, we end up dividing ourselves even more. It seems like this is what is going on in the current state of Christianity and religion as a whole. We are all so busy trying to identify how we are not like one another instead of celebrating the ways in which we are so very similar. I’m really guilty of this. I remember there was a time when I was trying to figure what phrase I should use for my religious identity because I didn’t want to use the word Christianity. I didn’t want people to confuse me with those ‘other’ type of Christians (other = Christians that I disagreed with on some points). I had to realize that all of these labels that we have constructed for ourselves can’t completely encompass all of a person’s individual beliefs. It may get you in the general neighborhood, but if someone wants to know what I’m about, or if I want to know what someone else is about, we just have to take the time to talk and get to know one another.
I have to say, these faith based conversations with my co-worker was most unexpected, but it's been very enlightening.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
First time Grandparents = Temporary Insanity?
So we packed up and went to my hometown for Memorial Day weekend so that Ian could get some face time with my folks. A good time was had by all, but this past weekend confirmed what I already knew in my heart to be true. First time grandparents are crazy.
Seriously, they consider everything that Ian does, good or bad, to be cute and adorable.
I told them the electrical outlet story, and all they could say was "Oh, looks like you have a little engineer on your hands. He's so curious."
We were in church and Ian did not want to sit still. He was crawling in the pews, babbling and flirting with the woman sitting behind us, shouting periodically, just for fun (side note: Ian would so fit in at a charismatic church), and so I decided to do the responsible thing and take him to the nursery. All of a sudden I hear a woman that both looked and sounded like my mother say "No, don't take him out. He's fine. He's not bothering anyone." Are you kidding me? This lady must have been abducted by aliens because this is not my mother.
We went out to eat with my parents. Dan and I are starting to master the 'hurry up and eat before we run out of distractions and this kid goes completely insane' method of dining. My parents not so much. They are taking their time, savoring every bite, and when Ian starts screeching and banging on the table, again, just because it's fun, they giggle and say how cute it is. I look at them, and I can tell that in their twisted little minds, they think the only reason other people are looking in our direction is so that they can make a mental note of just how adorable Ian is.
I may need to have them committed.
Seriously, they consider everything that Ian does, good or bad, to be cute and adorable.
I told them the electrical outlet story, and all they could say was "Oh, looks like you have a little engineer on your hands. He's so curious."
We were in church and Ian did not want to sit still. He was crawling in the pews, babbling and flirting with the woman sitting behind us, shouting periodically, just for fun (side note: Ian would so fit in at a charismatic church), and so I decided to do the responsible thing and take him to the nursery. All of a sudden I hear a woman that both looked and sounded like my mother say "No, don't take him out. He's fine. He's not bothering anyone." Are you kidding me? This lady must have been abducted by aliens because this is not my mother.
We went out to eat with my parents. Dan and I are starting to master the 'hurry up and eat before we run out of distractions and this kid goes completely insane' method of dining. My parents not so much. They are taking their time, savoring every bite, and when Ian starts screeching and banging on the table, again, just because it's fun, they giggle and say how cute it is. I look at them, and I can tell that in their twisted little minds, they think the only reason other people are looking in our direction is so that they can make a mental note of just how adorable Ian is.
I may need to have them committed.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Interesting "conversation" with co-worker
So last week my co-workers and I were chatting and somehow the conversation took a turn towards the age old question of why do bad things happen to good people. One of my co-workers began to reminisce about his partner's mom. She was a devout Catholic woman who became very ill in her last days on this earth and he and his partner were in agreement that it seemed so unfair. I think the exact statement was something like "She was a devoted Catholic, prayed to the Saints and all that stuff, and look at what it got her."
I gave a very short, trite statement about how I agreed the situation was unfortunate and even seemed unfair, but I thought the answer to that question, if there was one at all, was a multifaceted one. Anyway, we decided to end the conversation at that point because we had been discussing non work related stuff for a while, and it was time to get back to work. I couldn't get the conversation out of my head though, and I decided to jot down a few notes and turn it into a blog post a little later.
Well, imagine my surprise when I received an email from said co-worker going into a bit more detail of our conversation. Some of the issues covered in his email were:
I can’t say I’ve never wondered the “Why do bad things happen to good people” question. What I’ve come to realize, is that I’m not qualified, nor am I at a place where I can answer that question. So instead my focus has shifted. Instead of asking “Why” I ask “What”. What can be learned from this situation? What good came out of this situation? What lesson did I learn that can be put into practice? What wisdom can I pass on to someone else that encounters something similar? When I started asking those questions, the “Why” wasn’t eliminated, or made any less painful, but my perspective changed. I began to see that not only can good come from bad, but I began to expect good to come out of bad situations.
I also think it boils down to what one expects from their faith. Some consider it a get out of jail free card for all “wrongdoings” and others consider it a lucky charm that should prevent bad stuff from happening to them. Me (and I know you didn’t ask me this), some of the things I expect are: a connection with my Creator (God, Allah, the Divine, the Universe, Mother Earth, or whatever other label you want to put on it), empowerment to become a better person, the power to experience and reflect love, peace/comfort when bad things do happen, and to help others, whether that help is through finances, advice, or just giving someone hope that everything will be ok. The reality I’ve learned, is that if I want to be a “better” person, most times I have to be put in a certain situation in order for that to come to fruition. For instance, if I want to be forgiving I have to have the opportunity to be screwed over. If I want to be patient, I have to have some sort of trying obstacle to overcome. If I want to be courageous, I have to be placed in a fearful situation and attempt to overcome it, etc….You get the point
That’s why I say, what appears to be a crappy situation on the surface, can have good. That doesn’t make the situation suck any less, but again, it changes the perspective.
As far as money grubbing televangelist, or other hypocrites (religious or not), I find their actions despicable, but at the same time I don’t think I am so different. Sure their actions may be different from mine, but the underlying issue I think is the same. Things like greed, dishonesty, jealousy, desire for power, fear, pride, wanting to be appear to be a good person without necessarily becoming a good person…these are all the same things I’m trying to eliminate from my internal makeup. It’s just that when I fail it may not be as apparent as it is with other people. I just figure, I’m not trying to use others as a measuring stick of how good or bad I am or should be. My goal is to be the absolute best me that I can be regardless of what others are doing because honestly, I can never have a true comparison. My absolute best may be a piece of cake to one person, and an unattainable goal to another, and I will never know which is which because I’m can’t be inside another person’s head. What I can do, is acknowledge I’m not perfect, and knowing that, not expect perfection from someone else. I also aim to encourage people to be the best person they can be, and ask them to encourage me to do the same. I don’t always succeed, but that’s my goal.
I agree with you that some Christians want to govern the way that other people live. I don’t agree. I think adults should be able to exert their free will, and do what they please as long as their actions do not infringe on another person’s rights. And while I may disagree with them, and plenty of other people, I still suspect that we are all more alike than we would like to think.
And there you have it. It's the best I could do to address some of his tough issues, but I'd be interested in other people's opinions on this stuff too.
I gave a very short, trite statement about how I agreed the situation was unfortunate and even seemed unfair, but I thought the answer to that question, if there was one at all, was a multifaceted one. Anyway, we decided to end the conversation at that point because we had been discussing non work related stuff for a while, and it was time to get back to work. I couldn't get the conversation out of my head though, and I decided to jot down a few notes and turn it into a blog post a little later.
Well, imagine my surprise when I received an email from said co-worker going into a bit more detail of our conversation. Some of the issues covered in his email were:
- Why is it that people can be devoted to their faith and yet bad things still happen to them
- Televangelists that seem to be out only to make a buck/Christian hypocrisy
- Why Christians want everyone else to adhere to their moral code
I can’t say I’ve never wondered the “Why do bad things happen to good people” question. What I’ve come to realize, is that I’m not qualified, nor am I at a place where I can answer that question. So instead my focus has shifted. Instead of asking “Why” I ask “What”. What can be learned from this situation? What good came out of this situation? What lesson did I learn that can be put into practice? What wisdom can I pass on to someone else that encounters something similar? When I started asking those questions, the “Why” wasn’t eliminated, or made any less painful, but my perspective changed. I began to see that not only can good come from bad, but I began to expect good to come out of bad situations.
I also think it boils down to what one expects from their faith. Some consider it a get out of jail free card for all “wrongdoings” and others consider it a lucky charm that should prevent bad stuff from happening to them. Me (and I know you didn’t ask me this), some of the things I expect are: a connection with my Creator (God, Allah, the Divine, the Universe, Mother Earth, or whatever other label you want to put on it), empowerment to become a better person, the power to experience and reflect love, peace/comfort when bad things do happen, and to help others, whether that help is through finances, advice, or just giving someone hope that everything will be ok. The reality I’ve learned, is that if I want to be a “better” person, most times I have to be put in a certain situation in order for that to come to fruition. For instance, if I want to be forgiving I have to have the opportunity to be screwed over. If I want to be patient, I have to have some sort of trying obstacle to overcome. If I want to be courageous, I have to be placed in a fearful situation and attempt to overcome it, etc….You get the point
That’s why I say, what appears to be a crappy situation on the surface, can have good. That doesn’t make the situation suck any less, but again, it changes the perspective.
As far as money grubbing televangelist, or other hypocrites (religious or not), I find their actions despicable, but at the same time I don’t think I am so different. Sure their actions may be different from mine, but the underlying issue I think is the same. Things like greed, dishonesty, jealousy, desire for power, fear, pride, wanting to be appear to be a good person without necessarily becoming a good person…these are all the same things I’m trying to eliminate from my internal makeup. It’s just that when I fail it may not be as apparent as it is with other people. I just figure, I’m not trying to use others as a measuring stick of how good or bad I am or should be. My goal is to be the absolute best me that I can be regardless of what others are doing because honestly, I can never have a true comparison. My absolute best may be a piece of cake to one person, and an unattainable goal to another, and I will never know which is which because I’m can’t be inside another person’s head. What I can do, is acknowledge I’m not perfect, and knowing that, not expect perfection from someone else. I also aim to encourage people to be the best person they can be, and ask them to encourage me to do the same. I don’t always succeed, but that’s my goal.
I agree with you that some Christians want to govern the way that other people live. I don’t agree. I think adults should be able to exert their free will, and do what they please as long as their actions do not infringe on another person’s rights. And while I may disagree with them, and plenty of other people, I still suspect that we are all more alike than we would like to think.
And there you have it. It's the best I could do to address some of his tough issues, but I'd be interested in other people's opinions on this stuff too.
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