“You gotta' make a change.
Its time for us as a people to start
making some changes,
lets change the way we eat, lets change
the way we live,
and lets change the way we treat each other.
You
see the old way
wasn't working so its on us,
to do what we gotta do to survive.”
Tupac
Shakur
This week at DFW International Terminal an angry man was obviously upset at another man...you probably know about it. The innocent victim was wearing a pink shirt...angry man did not like it. The angry one kicked the pink shirted one, grabbed his hair and lost control. A number of people rushed to intervene as the man is tackled and put on the floor.
When M went on active duty we were transplanted from Oklahoma to Virginia. We were stationed there twice and really enjoyed the experiences but there were undercurrents we'd not even imagined.
On our second assignment we bought a home in a totally Virginian residential area. We were the only military and they happily accepted us even though we didn't talk like they did...we became friends.
One weekend we entertained our military friends with a get-together and one of our guests was an African-American officer and his wife...they mistakenly went to the house next door and we never had a second thought about it. Until.
All too soon we were re-assigned and one weekend we listed our home for sale. The paper hadn't come out yet so late one evening we were surprised when someone called and wanted to come look right then...we explained our children were already in bed but they insisted so we agreed. They walked around the outside and never looked inside...refused to leave until we accepted their check...bought the house then and there. How naïve we were!
It finally dawned on us that the neighborhood wanted no blacks so they took measures to guarantee that none of our military associates would move in...you get the picture, I'm sure.
Okay, now I'm in the grocery store again.
Last week on the next aisle over I could hear a wife berating her husband non-stop; I was party to all of her criticisms of what I imagined was one poor man. A few minutes later I passed by as she was lowering the boom on him again for suggesting a brand of chili...she slashed him with the fact that she NEVER bought that brand...didn't he know that? He was tall and walked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Neither of them had twinkly eyes or smiles...beaten down. Who knows what they were going through but the words hurt...really.
People can be so unkind and it isn't limited to one particular sex either.
M and I had friends we played cards with...about eight couples. I'll call him Jolly and she was Peggy (one of the most beautiful women I've ever known and so sweet). Jolly would jump on her for so many picky things...the one that he delighted in was if she ever dared to quietly crunch ice...slam, bam...no, no! He blasted her off the wall every time and it was embarrassing for her...for everyone.
Perhaps our
culture has changed so much that it's natural to be sarcastic/super
critical/rude...you think? After all we have those attitudes in abundance in
films, television, politics...news.
"When
you hear people making hateful comments, stand up to them. Point out what a waste it is to hate, and
you could open their eyes."
Taylor Swift
Michael's first assignment on active duty in Virginia was company commander of a Terminal Transportation unit. Three days after our arrival he was flown out to a secret location for an indefinite time...meeting up with the company that was scattered along the coast for the Cuban missile crisis/invasion. He had almost 300 men in the company...100 Caucasian, 200 African-Americans...poised for an invasion which never took place.
Loaded up for the return to Virginia arrangements were made in advance for restaurant meals. First lunch stop they had to wait until after the lunch rush…the owner closed the restaurant so the troops could have the entire place. The owner welcomed them but told M the African-Americans would have to eat in the kitchen. Michael said if they didn't all eat together...they wouldn't eat and the owner stuck to his 'no'...M didn't take kindly to that and moved all of them out. Trust me, M's nostrils flare and turn white when he's upset...whoosh! That guy dared...M flared.
So, having written and thought about all of the above…and more? I am diligently working on metacognition...thinking about what I'm thinking.
Along with that, and importantly "I'm too grateful to be hateful. I am too blessed to be stressed."
From my heart...to yours,
Vasca
Michael and I
are not rude to each other in public; rarely in our private lives and now, not
at all. It just isn't in our nature...and it bothers both of us to be
exposed to it in public.
Michael's first assignment on active duty in Virginia was company commander of a Terminal Transportation unit. Three days after our arrival he was flown out to a secret location for an indefinite time...meeting up with the company that was scattered along the coast for the Cuban missile crisis/invasion. He had almost 300 men in the company...100 Caucasian, 200 African-Americans...poised for an invasion which never took place.
Loaded up for the return to Virginia arrangements were made in advance for restaurant meals. First lunch stop they had to wait until after the lunch rush…the owner closed the restaurant so the troops could have the entire place. The owner welcomed them but told M the African-Americans would have to eat in the kitchen. Michael said if they didn't all eat together...they wouldn't eat and the owner stuck to his 'no'...M didn't take kindly to that and moved all of them out. Trust me, M's nostrils flare and turn white when he's upset...whoosh! That guy dared...M flared.
So, having written and thought about all of the above…and more? I am diligently working on metacognition...thinking about what I'm thinking.
Along with that, and importantly "I'm too grateful to be hateful. I am too blessed to be stressed."
From my heart...to yours,
Vasca
You have had some powerful experiences. When I worked I occasionally traveled with an African-American to meetings. We worked together on the same project. There wasn't any reaction at work but we had to drive through a small town in the hinterlands. One time we stopped to eat lunch there and I couldn't figure out why everyone was staring. Then my friend said that they were viewing us as an interracial couple. It was the 80s for heaven's sakes!
ReplyDeleteSo many experiences...of so many different types. Made a much better person out of me. When one of our sons was getting married in East Texas, my mother-in-law fell and injured herself. My husband rushed her into town to the only doctor's office and was shocked to see two waiting rooms...one for black...one for white. Also in the 80's.
DeleteI love what you wrote and the way you wrote it. Even though you were, in part, writing about violent things (hate is violent, isn't it?), the feeling was peaceful. How do you do that? I'm glad I met you.
ReplyDeleteI try my best to always be encouraging; don't really want to put out lots of violent things but there's so much of that nowadays. Hopefully I can approach it in a manner that won't be offensive but still get the points across...violence is not the way to go. And there is a 'better way'. Thank you so much for visiting and meeting up...I like you!
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