I shared this on Facebook because I thought it was powerful. This is someone else’s story – not mine – but in 7th grade, I would have never spoken up at all. Would you have? Would you now?
“A few of us choked out some words . . . but were immediately squashed.”
Everybody I know has basically told me to shut up. Some of them hate what is happening in our country and are hurting and disturbed, too. Some are loving it. Some just plain have no clue and are happy to have a new Savior that can heal everything from a headache to lack of a job. Some just vote for the R Party no matter who’s running.
I keep telling them that I can’t be quiet and I can’t not say anything if I see something distressing. Something wrong. Something completely against the Bible I grew up with and the teachings of my parents and church and school. Something that makes a mockery of the way I raised my children and the stands I took as a classroom teacher.
I believe SILENCE IS ACCEPTANCE.
One little thing happens. One lie is told. You sit back and let it go. Another lie, another ill-meant action, and you turn your head and pretend not to see. Another and another. It becomes easy to slide into a pattern of silence, of closing your eyes, of ignoring wrongs, of taking the position, “It doesn’t do any good to say anything.” It becomes easy to just smile and sit back and let your character melt at your feet.
I read Anne Frank’s diary several times in junior high and high school. Every time I read it, I thought: How could people let this happen? How could they hate this one group known as Jews? How could the rantings of one madman lead to so much destruction and death, when there are so many good people out there?
Now I know.
I also thought: This kind of thing could never happen in my country.
Now it is.
SILENCE IS ACCEPTANCE.
“Don’t ever let anyone tell you that what you see with your own eyes isn’t happening.”
I’ve climbed those narrow steps behind the swinging bookcase up to the secret annex in Anne Frank’s house in Amsterdam. I looked out the window at a tall church steeple nearby. I refuse to go back again to a place created by hate, fear, and silence, so near to God.
As a teacher of ninth-grade English, I never had to deal with the incoherent, inarticulate rambling in written papers as found in the following New York Times interview transcript. After all, I was teaching children who were fourteen and fifteen years old – children who soaked in world and national issues and were eager to understand and discuss, children that were quite capable.
The interview question had to do with mixing personal business with the role of President. And here is the answer:
“As far as the, you know, potential conflict of interests, though, I mean I know that from the standpoint, the law is totally on my side, meaning, the president can’t have a conflict of interest. That’s been reported very widely. Despite that, I don’t want there to be a conflict of interest anyway. And the laws, the president can’t. And I understand why the president can’t have a conflict of interest now because everything a president does in some ways is like a conflict of interest, but I have, I’ve built a very great company and it’s a big company and it’s all over the world. People are starting to see, when they look at all these different jobs, like in India and other things, number one, a job like that builds great relationships with the people of India, so it’s all good. But I have to say, the partners come in, they’re very, very successful people. They come in, they’d say, they said, ‘Would it be possible to have a picture?’ Actually, my children are working on that job. So I can say to them, Arthur, ‘I don’t want to have a picture,’ or, I can take a picture. I mean, I think it’s wonderful to take a picture. I’m fine with a picture. But if it were up to some people, I would never, ever see my daughter Ivanka again. That would be like you never seeing your son again. That wouldn’t be good. That wouldn’t be good. But I’d never, ever see my daughter Ivanka.”
Now, honestly, as a former teacher, if I had had five classes of thirty students each and 150 essays like this one to grade, I think I would have pulled my hair out and then closed the grammar book and started over on a first grade level, teaching how to think…how to focus in on one pertinent nugget of information that satisfies the answer…how to work through a thought process in a logical manner…how to write thoughts in a clear, concise way, staying on track and avoiding repetition. I can’t imagine passing a student on to the tenth grade with no better command of the English language than in this answer. Moreover, I cannot imagine students entering the workforce with no ability to communicate…except by stringing unrelated words and clauses together in meaningless chaotic rambling, like you know, you know, that wouldn’t be good, no it just wouldn’t be good, because I just couldn’t, you know, I’d need red, I’d need a lot of red, just a whole lot of red, or maybe crayons, and maybe wide, bigly wide what do you call those things–margins, yes, you know, margins, so I could write in and I’d run out of red, yes, on the page there on the paper, there wouldn’t be enough, so I’d run out of ink, and I would never see my family again.
And just think…the writer of the passage above in quotes will be on a world stage in front of world leaders and informed people and intellectuals, and he will have to speak in front of the whole world, and he will be sitting in private talks with rulers of other countries, talking about his bottom line and our bottom line, running his businesses and our business, and making decisions that will affect him and his businesses and us and our way of life for the rest of our lives.
(Copied from dailykos.com story on a New York Times interview transcript with President-elect Donald Trump.)
From Bill Peach, Franklin, TN:
“I don’t know how much of the 2012 presidential election campaign you have watched. It started way too early and will last way too long. I have come to realize that everything I learned in school and Sunday school, everything I have ever read, and everything I have ever thought have no relevance to the Republican primary debate. I watch with masochistic agony and cling to every word, every nuance of speech, every emotive image, every mundane reference, and then I realize they are not talking to me. I am not one of their people. They don’t know or care that I am watching and listening. They are speaking to an audience with a political ideology that has no meaning for me. I cannot ignore them because that audience will still be there in November, when one of those candidates, as a diametric of his appeal to that audience, will make me appreciate the admonitions of my grandmother, and my roots in a one-room church and one-room school, and my seven-decade college education, and my love for my wife and daughters and grandchildren, for my years of work for public education and teachers, intellectual freedom, my fifty-two years of main street economics, the Christian ethic, human rights, and democracy. “
Most companies offer three days off for grief.
[The Tennessean. Oct. 26, 2011] “Bill Would Give Grieving Parents Unpaid Leave.” Some people deserve the right to stay home and grieve. Those who have lost children need time off work, up to 12 weeks, without the fear of losing their jobs. About two percent of US annual deaths involve babies, children, and teens. In 2007, that number was 53,000.
Yes, I agree that these people need time to process reality and loss, to plod through shock and into a new normal without that loved one. I’ve heard losing a child is the most anguishing experience one will ever bear. It’s kind and considerate when these parents are provided with a safety net so they can begin to heal from crippling loss, because in loss, one cannot focus, one cannot think, one cannot remember what happened a minute ago.
Our lawmakers are now giving of their time and energy to consider a bill that would expand the Family and Medical Leave Act to allow grieving parents of children eighteen and younger to take unpaid leave for twelve weeks without having to worry about losing their jobs. They are doing this for SOME AMERICANS. Not all.
It only applies to people who work for a company that has fifty or more employees.
What about all those who have jobs with smaller firms? They are S-O-L. I trust you know what that means.
I learned about this a few years ago. I worked with my husband in a small company he owned. He died, the income was gone instantly, the office rent was due in two days, the home mortgage was due in five, and there were a hundred small businesses depending on him to keep their computer networks up and running. With his death, I lost my job and there was no time to grieve, not even the standard three days. Before his funeral I was taking care of customers and interviewing companies to merge our business with. Then I cleaned and moved out of the office within four weeks, all the while looking for another job. I went to work six weeks after his death.
I went to work for a company that had twenty employees. So one year later when my mother was ill and I needed time off desperately to go take care of her, I didn’t have it because my company didn’t fall under the Family and Medical Leave Act. I was told I could use all my sick days and vacation days and then I wouldn’t get paid and if too many days went by, well, then, they might have to bring someone else in to do my job, but they would try to give me something when I came back. I was a single wage-earner in my household. So I delayed going to my mother and had to put her in a nursing home that pushed enough morphine into her to kill an elephant, though I didn’t realize it at the time, and in less than a month she was at the point of death. My sister and I took her home and stayed with her and I used up all my days off at work. I drove the six hours home after her funeral and went to work the next day.
I wonder how many other Americans are in this category.
The government does things that are good sometimes, but they don’t always benefit all Americans. Just some. My heart goes out to all those Americans who don’t work for companies of fifty employees or more because I know a little bit of what you’ll go through when it happens to you, and it is an anguishing experience and one you never get over.
I sit here at my computer with full-blown nausea, shaking like I used to do when I had perimenopause. I don’t have that anymore, and I never have nausea. But when I opened my The Tennessean Williamson A.M. email news and saw the headlines that Rep. Sheila Butt is asking for legislation that requires dental amalgams to be removed before cremation, both sickness and irateness hit my fan at once.
Quote: “Up until now, opponents of a proposed crematorium at Spring Hill Memorial Park and Funeral Home have expressed concern about toxic mercury emissions affecting nearby neighborhoods.
But after learning that state Rep. Sheila Butt has agreed to ask for legislation that would require dental amalgams — which can contain the mercury compounds — be removed before a body is cremated, some are still skeptical.
‘It doesn’t change anything right now and it doesn’t mean that it will get approved, either,’ said Lori Fisk-Connor, a nearby resident who showed up Monday for a Planning Commission vote on the matter. ‘I don’t think it’s just a matter of what’s in the fillings. There are other things in people’s bodies that’s going to be released in the air and into the water supply.’ ”
Dear child, honey, Lori, I can tell, you haven’t been there. You put this in the paper, so it’s a public record, and I’m going to respond: It’s not only cremation — it’s death. Do you know what happens when someone dies? And if you can keep us all from dying, please oh please, do! Death is ugly. “Things in people’s bodies get released in the air and into the water supply.”
Do you know when someone dies, the body automatically releases feces, urine, and blood? If you don’t believe it, ask my son, who was keeping vigil with my father, his grandfather, during the hours before his death. The body was going through ketosis and then released feces that filled the bed. The odor was so intense that my son was not able to stay in the room … or the house … or the town, for that matter. And the elimination was ultimately flushed, and sheets were washed — all went into the water supply.
And I think of my mother in her dying days. She was on morphine. It was the weekend and hospice gave us I don’t know how many bottles of it. When she died in her own bedroom, my sister and I called the hospice nurse and the funeral home, which sent a deputy coroner. The two of them stood over my mother’s kitchen sink and poured bottle after bottle of morphine down the drain. Where in the hell do you think that went? Uh huh, the water supply.
My husband bled before he died. At home, at the doctor’s office, at the hospital. That blood didn’t just disappear. Clothes, blankets, towels, all were washed. Yes, water supply. (And he was cremated. What, of him, got into the air and blew about? I’d like to know.)
What you’ve got to do, Spring Hill neighborhood and Spring Hill legislators, is oppose death. You’ve got to keep us all from releasing stuff into the air and into the water supply. Draw up a bill. Good luck.
And legislators, please throw this bill out if and when it hits your desk. No tampering with dead bodies and removing fillings — stealing gold or throwing away mercury. My God. What a narrow little world we live in.
He said, “I made my position on health reform clear: We must not walk away. We are too close, and the stakes are too high for too many. I called on legislators of both parties to find a way to come together and finish the job for the American people.”
I say to the President and legislators, “Get it right for the American people. For those of us who work hard to pay insurance premiums — exorbitant amounts — and are stuck with $85 per month prescriptions after insurance…do something for us. Do something about pre-existing conditions. Get it right. And then get the job done.
And stop the partisan fighting. I’m sick of the whining and lies and accusations and the fear mongering. Everyone just shut up and get to work.
And get the job done.