Some years ago a new comedian arrived on the scene. Yakov Smirnoff, from Russia, made the phrase "What a Country!" funny. It didn't hurt that he said it with that cute accent. His observations about America -- especially in contrast to the Soviet Union -- were as astute as they were humorous. One of his points emphasized the vast freedom we enjoy in the USA, especially freedom of speech. In one of his routines he talked about Russian comedians having to submit their jokes to the Soviet Department of Jokes before performing their routine. No deviations from the script allowed. In case you want to see a short clip, here is a link to his routine:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5GK8ewRec7c
He made me think we have lost our sense of humor in this country, particularly when it comes to our basic freedoms. People seem to be so quick to take offense at almost anything. So many are up in arms that Colin Kaepernick refused to stand for our National Anthem. Well, I refuse to waste my energy on a washed-up prima donna who makes almost $12 million a year, sitting on the bench, ranting about who-knows-what. I do not get the connection between his refusal to stand and whatever his beef might be.
But that does not matter. What matters is that we live in a country where we are free to express our opinions, even when they are inane, disrespectful, and hideous. I think the Westboro Baptist Church, known for its hate speech against LGBT people, Catholics, Muslims, Jews, American soldiers, and politicians, sets a lousy example of Christianity. In this country their members are free to say despicable things to and about people. Here's the interesting part. What they say reflects more about their own character than the recipients of all that hate.
Yes, it is a great country. College students protest guns on their campus with a campaign slogan, "Cocks not Glocks," and they carry a symbol to visibly express themselves. Maybe that is a little inane, but it gets attention. Agree or disagree, but the statement is heard.
Even Donald Trump runs around our great country spouting all sorts of ideas. He is not a fan of the media. But it is our First Amendment that gives him access to all of the attention he so craves. Censorship or intimidation of the media would be a huge mistake (can't you hear his voice in the background -- huuuge!), because freedom of speech goes hand in hand with freedom of the press. If the press cannot freely report what is said, the next step will be limiting what is said. This is a great country precisely because our press is free to report what is going on. Without access to freely disseminated information we would be victims of whatever propaganda those in power would publish.
So regardless of how stupid someone's words or symbolic actions might be, I support their right to freely express him or herself.
Why, we are even free to buy a package of sanitary pads carrying the brand name New Freedom and stick them on our foreheads.
Sunday, August 28, 2016
Monday, February 8, 2016
Even the Dog
Quite a few years ago I was ranting about some indignity heaped upon my head by my ex. Just obsessed, angry, hurt. I could not see anything good about him. The person listening to my diatribe suggested an exercise. Instead of focusing on all the negatives, he proposed that I make a list of 100 good things or things I learned from my ex. Radical idea. (This came from my hairdresser, not my therapist. Good hairdressers share many of the same characteristics as good therapists.)
I thought about it for a day or so and decided it couldn't hurt. I took out a legal pad and started the list. The first few came to mind easily. A child, nice lifestyle ....
What took over somewhere around #10 was a changed perspective. Rather than being caught up in my anger (and pride, I'll admit it), I found myself examining not him, but me, looking for remnants of the positive aspects he left behind. The valuable lessons I learned stayed with me.
First, I realized change comes from within. No one changes anyone else. You can yell, threaten, bully, cry, demand -- and none of that ever changes another human being. We all have the capacity for change, and over time, we usually do change. But change simply cannot be forced on anyone, regardless of whether it is a good change or how badly change is needed.
Second, I understood that no one is totally good or totally bad. Even someone with whom I had so much conflict had positive influences on my life along the way. I could focus on the negative qualities or the positive qualities. But dwelling on the negative only affected me. So why bother to stay in that sorry state?
Third, I learned (again) the power of positive thinking. Even the simple exercise of looking for the good in a particular person redirects our thought processes -- and with the redirection, literally a mood shift. Given the choice between "Woe is me" and "Wow, look where I am now," I choose where I am today and see how beautiful life is.
I am happy because I choose to be happy. There is so much in my life that fills me with gratitude. Focusing on those items propels me in a much more positive direction than looking in anger at anyone. No one will change because I demand it. But I can support the good choices made by others and cheer them on as they influence everyone around them.
And life is too short to turn anyone into an enemy -- which is the end result of focusing exclusively on a person's negative side. If we see nothing good about them, animosity toward them is the likely effect.
My mother always told me, "Even an old dog is better to have as a friend than an enemy." Indeed, one never knows when the old dog may end up barking the warning that saves our life.
I thought about it for a day or so and decided it couldn't hurt. I took out a legal pad and started the list. The first few came to mind easily. A child, nice lifestyle ....
What took over somewhere around #10 was a changed perspective. Rather than being caught up in my anger (and pride, I'll admit it), I found myself examining not him, but me, looking for remnants of the positive aspects he left behind. The valuable lessons I learned stayed with me.
First, I realized change comes from within. No one changes anyone else. You can yell, threaten, bully, cry, demand -- and none of that ever changes another human being. We all have the capacity for change, and over time, we usually do change. But change simply cannot be forced on anyone, regardless of whether it is a good change or how badly change is needed.
Second, I understood that no one is totally good or totally bad. Even someone with whom I had so much conflict had positive influences on my life along the way. I could focus on the negative qualities or the positive qualities. But dwelling on the negative only affected me. So why bother to stay in that sorry state?
Third, I learned (again) the power of positive thinking. Even the simple exercise of looking for the good in a particular person redirects our thought processes -- and with the redirection, literally a mood shift. Given the choice between "Woe is me" and "Wow, look where I am now," I choose where I am today and see how beautiful life is.
I am happy because I choose to be happy. There is so much in my life that fills me with gratitude. Focusing on those items propels me in a much more positive direction than looking in anger at anyone. No one will change because I demand it. But I can support the good choices made by others and cheer them on as they influence everyone around them.
And life is too short to turn anyone into an enemy -- which is the end result of focusing exclusively on a person's negative side. If we see nothing good about them, animosity toward them is the likely effect.
My mother always told me, "Even an old dog is better to have as a friend than an enemy." Indeed, one never knows when the old dog may end up barking the warning that saves our life.
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
How Long?
"Boy, you're gonna carry that weight a long time, carry that weight a long time."
There are many simple pleasures in life. Eating, sleeping, breathing. Sometimes those simple pleasures desert us. Or maybe, we lose the ability to focus on simple pleasures. Recently I had a nasty case of bronchitis. Simply breathing became impossible. I could not talk or eat anything more than soup. Brushing my teeth was an ordeal because the toothpaste triggered the coughing spasm. I broke down and visited the doctor.
Once I finally got well, I chuckled at the deep truth expressed during one of my meditation sessions. Focusing on inhaling and exhaling, I realized what great pleasure I derived from just breathing. No struggle, just breathe. Enjoying the simple pleasure of breathing. There will come a time when the breath will be gone.
One of my close friends drew his last breath not long ago. His funeral was Saturday. My friend devoted his life to making this world a better place. And he understood better than most the importance of living every day to its fullest. He also understood the power of forgiveness.
If you have ever hurt someone or betrayed them -- so deeply that you did not deserve to be forgiven, and yet that someone forgave you anyway -- you understand the importance of forgiveness. We are all wounded creatures. And we wound people around us, frequently those closest to us.
Why, then, do we hold grudges? Nursing the grudge takes us back to the moment we were hurt and we relive that moment. The longer we hold it, the more deeply rooted it becomes, and the more difficult to extricate. Yet people hold grudges for decades, bitterness and anger harbored and re-visited regularly. We even hold grudges against people who did not hurt us directly, but injured someone that we loved, and we took it as an injury to ourselves. Took it, nursed it to its full-throated, monstrous dragon-like nature that turned both inward and outward.
Unchecked, that anger, hurt, sadness, bitterness, vexation can only destroy. As it grows it takes over one's personality and kills. It kills relationships with people who love us and care deeply. It kills growth, happiness, contentment, and eventually, our ability to see anything good. This breaks my heart, for I see it all too often.
But who among us has not been hurt deeply at some point or other? If you've lived longer than a day or two, chances are someone has lied to you, cheated you, stolen from you, gossiped about you, betrayed you, accused you unjustly, taken advantage of you, cursed you, spat upon you, or worse. Only two choices exist: forgiveness or animosity.
When we choose forgiveness, love wins. When we choose spite, we lose. We lose every moment squandered while the event is replayed in our mind, with the accompanying emotions and feelings becoming more vivid. How can that ever be a good thing?
Instead, why not bestow the gift of love, the give of forgiveness, undeserved by the recipient, but so richly rewarding to all? I understand it is not easy. But it is invaluable.
How long are you gonna carry that weight?
And ... in the end ... the love you take ... is equal to ... the love you make.
There are many simple pleasures in life. Eating, sleeping, breathing. Sometimes those simple pleasures desert us. Or maybe, we lose the ability to focus on simple pleasures. Recently I had a nasty case of bronchitis. Simply breathing became impossible. I could not talk or eat anything more than soup. Brushing my teeth was an ordeal because the toothpaste triggered the coughing spasm. I broke down and visited the doctor.
Once I finally got well, I chuckled at the deep truth expressed during one of my meditation sessions. Focusing on inhaling and exhaling, I realized what great pleasure I derived from just breathing. No struggle, just breathe. Enjoying the simple pleasure of breathing. There will come a time when the breath will be gone.
One of my close friends drew his last breath not long ago. His funeral was Saturday. My friend devoted his life to making this world a better place. And he understood better than most the importance of living every day to its fullest. He also understood the power of forgiveness.
If you have ever hurt someone or betrayed them -- so deeply that you did not deserve to be forgiven, and yet that someone forgave you anyway -- you understand the importance of forgiveness. We are all wounded creatures. And we wound people around us, frequently those closest to us.
Why, then, do we hold grudges? Nursing the grudge takes us back to the moment we were hurt and we relive that moment. The longer we hold it, the more deeply rooted it becomes, and the more difficult to extricate. Yet people hold grudges for decades, bitterness and anger harbored and re-visited regularly. We even hold grudges against people who did not hurt us directly, but injured someone that we loved, and we took it as an injury to ourselves. Took it, nursed it to its full-throated, monstrous dragon-like nature that turned both inward and outward.
Unchecked, that anger, hurt, sadness, bitterness, vexation can only destroy. As it grows it takes over one's personality and kills. It kills relationships with people who love us and care deeply. It kills growth, happiness, contentment, and eventually, our ability to see anything good. This breaks my heart, for I see it all too often.
But who among us has not been hurt deeply at some point or other? If you've lived longer than a day or two, chances are someone has lied to you, cheated you, stolen from you, gossiped about you, betrayed you, accused you unjustly, taken advantage of you, cursed you, spat upon you, or worse. Only two choices exist: forgiveness or animosity.
When we choose forgiveness, love wins. When we choose spite, we lose. We lose every moment squandered while the event is replayed in our mind, with the accompanying emotions and feelings becoming more vivid. How can that ever be a good thing?
Instead, why not bestow the gift of love, the give of forgiveness, undeserved by the recipient, but so richly rewarding to all? I understand it is not easy. But it is invaluable.
How long are you gonna carry that weight?
And ... in the end ... the love you take ... is equal to ... the love you make.
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Thinking of You
As I meditated this morning I realized I needed to change the direction of this latest blog posting. Originally I was going to write about a different topic. Now I understand I need to say something completely different. I'm thinking of you, one of the people in my life.
I'm thinking of you, the person who recently lost a husband. Actually, there are two people in my life who lost a husband -- one unexpectedly, the other was somewhat anticipated. The loss remains the same for both people, the loss of longtime love. The love does not die, but the physical presence is gone. I'm thinking of you in this loss.
I'm thinking of you, the person trying to make a very hard decision. Again, there is more than one person in this category. One person is considering a job change. Another person is considering a move. And there are others trying to understand the next chapter as they journey through life, sorting among the options. I'm thinking of you in this decision making process.
I'm thinking of you, the person who is considering whether to end a relationship. Relationships are very hard, regardless of their length. Determining whether to continue in this relationship seems like stepping into the abyss. Yet the decision may not even be yours to make, and that causes another layer of grief and pain. I'm thinking of you as you wrestle with this problem.
I'm thinking of you, the person struggling with illness. Nothing you did caused this condition. You wonder how you will survive. Or if you will survive. Or if this condition will complicate everything else you undertake. The answers are elusive. But we can look for the lessons as we struggle and the blessings that surround us every day. I'm thinking of you in your struggle.
I'm thinking of you, the person whose children test your patience. As a parent you want to guide them into adulthood with a minimum of pain and suffering -- physical and emotional. The children, however, seem to get on our last nerve, push every boundary, and insist on taking the hardest path, doing things their way. Those children, our legacy, merely do what children must. They grow. Growth seldom moves in a straight line, and by definition, leaves behind that which is cast off. I'm thinking of you as you move through each day with these beautiful creatures who have been entrusted to your care.
I'm thinking of you, the person on the edge. Your life seems impossible and hopeless. I want you to find hope and love and security. Whatever the problem, help is available and absolutely nothing is impossible. There are people who love you, even if you cannot see it at the moment. Raise your hand and ask. I'm thinking of you and hope you can find courage.
Sometimes our hearts are full, and we simply lack the power to say what we feel. Or our powers of expression fail us. That is where faith enters. I'm thinking of you -- with love and gratitude.
I'm thinking of you, the person who recently lost a husband. Actually, there are two people in my life who lost a husband -- one unexpectedly, the other was somewhat anticipated. The loss remains the same for both people, the loss of longtime love. The love does not die, but the physical presence is gone. I'm thinking of you in this loss.
I'm thinking of you, the person trying to make a very hard decision. Again, there is more than one person in this category. One person is considering a job change. Another person is considering a move. And there are others trying to understand the next chapter as they journey through life, sorting among the options. I'm thinking of you in this decision making process.
I'm thinking of you, the person who is considering whether to end a relationship. Relationships are very hard, regardless of their length. Determining whether to continue in this relationship seems like stepping into the abyss. Yet the decision may not even be yours to make, and that causes another layer of grief and pain. I'm thinking of you as you wrestle with this problem.
I'm thinking of you, the person struggling with illness. Nothing you did caused this condition. You wonder how you will survive. Or if you will survive. Or if this condition will complicate everything else you undertake. The answers are elusive. But we can look for the lessons as we struggle and the blessings that surround us every day. I'm thinking of you in your struggle.
I'm thinking of you, the person whose children test your patience. As a parent you want to guide them into adulthood with a minimum of pain and suffering -- physical and emotional. The children, however, seem to get on our last nerve, push every boundary, and insist on taking the hardest path, doing things their way. Those children, our legacy, merely do what children must. They grow. Growth seldom moves in a straight line, and by definition, leaves behind that which is cast off. I'm thinking of you as you move through each day with these beautiful creatures who have been entrusted to your care.
I'm thinking of you, the person on the edge. Your life seems impossible and hopeless. I want you to find hope and love and security. Whatever the problem, help is available and absolutely nothing is impossible. There are people who love you, even if you cannot see it at the moment. Raise your hand and ask. I'm thinking of you and hope you can find courage.
Sometimes our hearts are full, and we simply lack the power to say what we feel. Or our powers of expression fail us. That is where faith enters. I'm thinking of you -- with love and gratitude.
Thursday, November 12, 2015
Something Different
I hope to go back some day. There is no bluer sky in the world.
Even if I do not make it back, the people and their ways stay forever in my heart.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
How Fortunate
I have been reading a book about marriage by Steve and Cokie Roberts, called "From This Day Forward." Although the book was published in 2000 and I bought it quite a few years ago, I am just now getting around to reading it. Steve and Cokie chronicle much about their own marriage and family life, but they also write about many other couples and what part marriage played in their lives.
As I was reading this morning it suddenly dawned on me: I have lived to see my children's children. Of course I have been crazy about each and every one of my grandchildren. But the reality of the blessing it has been -- and is -- never sunk in until this moment. Perhaps it is because I am now visiting the tenth of those grandchildren. Or maybe I'm just slow in getting to some of the truth in life.
My paternal grandmother did not get to see any of her grandchildren. In fact, she did not even live to see her last child, my father, out of infancy. She died about a month after he was born. And though my dad lived long enough to see his grandchildren being born, he did not get to enjoy the pleasure of watching them grow.
One if the greatest pleasures in life is watching those little creatures develop into amazing human beings. I adore looking at the pictures of them progressing through the various stages and appreciating what a unique person each one is. There are no two alike, even in the same family. We have funny ones, serious ones, athletic ones, and still so much more to come, because we don't know much about the baby's personality. But we have been assured she will be extremely intelligent and spunky.
I have loved watching my children grow into the fine young men they have become, and of course, I am so proud of them. But there is something so different about watching their children grow up. I used to say it is because when your own children are growing up, there is no time to enjoy it. You are much too busy being a parent. Knowing that it goes by so quickly though makes a grandparent appreciate and savor each little moment. For it is in those little moments that big memories are created.
So for those who have heard the Irish blessing -- or read the verse in Psalm128:6 -- to wish someone the grace of seeing their children's children is to bestow the best fortune ever, long life with abundant family.
Yes, I have been fortunate indeed.
As I was reading this morning it suddenly dawned on me: I have lived to see my children's children. Of course I have been crazy about each and every one of my grandchildren. But the reality of the blessing it has been -- and is -- never sunk in until this moment. Perhaps it is because I am now visiting the tenth of those grandchildren. Or maybe I'm just slow in getting to some of the truth in life.
My paternal grandmother did not get to see any of her grandchildren. In fact, she did not even live to see her last child, my father, out of infancy. She died about a month after he was born. And though my dad lived long enough to see his grandchildren being born, he did not get to enjoy the pleasure of watching them grow.
One if the greatest pleasures in life is watching those little creatures develop into amazing human beings. I adore looking at the pictures of them progressing through the various stages and appreciating what a unique person each one is. There are no two alike, even in the same family. We have funny ones, serious ones, athletic ones, and still so much more to come, because we don't know much about the baby's personality. But we have been assured she will be extremely intelligent and spunky.
I have loved watching my children grow into the fine young men they have become, and of course, I am so proud of them. But there is something so different about watching their children grow up. I used to say it is because when your own children are growing up, there is no time to enjoy it. You are much too busy being a parent. Knowing that it goes by so quickly though makes a grandparent appreciate and savor each little moment. For it is in those little moments that big memories are created.
So for those who have heard the Irish blessing -- or read the verse in Psalm128:6 -- to wish someone the grace of seeing their children's children is to bestow the best fortune ever, long life with abundant family.
Yes, I have been fortunate indeed.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
Sit Down and Shut Up?
(Originally written June 29, 2015)
I read online a remark that finally put me over the edge. In reaction to nine people gunned down at a prayer meeting and Bible study, many have called for removal of the Confederate battle flag. Without getting into all the First Amendment issues, I want to be clear: I believe the time has long since passed for that symbol to removed from official government locations. Fly it in your front yard or hang it on your pick-up truck, but don't try to make it an official symbol of American freedom, because it's not.
For those who want to get hyper-technical and argue this banner was never the official flag of the Confederate States of America, but only a flag carried into battle by some troops, my response is "horse-hockey." Anyone who has paid attention for the last 150 years knows the primary symbol of the old south is that emblem. Otherwise, if it were only some one-off standard from a single regiment, it would not have the impact it does.
For those who say it is only a symbol of southern pride and heritage, my guess is you do not have dark skin or ancestors carried over to this country on a slave ship. Your family was never sold or held in chains unjustly or split apart by a human master who decreed it. That flag may be a symbol of southern pride to you, but try walking in someone else's shoes for only a couple of minutes. For people who are the heirs of that legacy of slavery, the flag represents pain, humiliation, and shame.
There can be no pride in slavery because there is no dignity accorded to a human being trapped in that horrid state. Why on earth would you want to deliberately inflict more pain on people with that collective memory?Why insist they be subjected to it by their government?
For those who want to argue about the American Civil War, its purpose, and what percentage of people owned slaves before and during that war, my response is to check your facts. My great-great-grandfather fought and was wounded in the war on the Confederate side. I visited his grave last October and saw the Confederate flag ensconced on the grave marker. I have no quarrel with that, because that is history. And even though my family may not have owned slaves (but I cannot be certain), according to official census records from 1860, 28% of the families in Texas did own slaves. (In Mississippi it was 49%. ) Until recently I sincerely believed that my family never owned any slaves because they were so darned poor. My research into our genealogy has caused me to reconsider that life-long belief, because it is a serious possibility. There are legal records in Alabama indicating bequests that include slaves in wills, so if I am looking at the right person -- yet to be confirmed because the name is not uncommon, but good possibility -- then the evidence leans in the direction of slave ownership.
The Sons of Confederate Veterans and other apologists want to insist the American Civil War was not about slavery. Technically, they are correct -- at least insofar as why the war got started. The reason the war began was the "united" portion of United States was ripped asunder. Abraham Lincoln was very clear that his motivation was to save the Union.
However, the specter of slavery was very much in the picture from the beginning. The Missouri Compromise of 1820 that created the Mason-Dixon line, established the boundaries beyond which slavery could not extend. The Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854 completely stripped the carefully worked-out provisions from 1820, essentially repealing the compromise. It opened Kansas and Nebraska to slavery and provided that future territories would vote (that is, free, white male property owners could vote) whether slavery should be permitted in newly-opened territories.
So for those who want to argue that "War of Northern Aggression" was about states' rights, be careful. That position is true only if one understands the "states' right" at issue was slavery. Slavery was the economic backbone of the old south. The greatest concentration of wealth in the mid-19th century was in the hands of southern plantation owners. The largest portion of that wealth was the commercial value (at that time) of the slaves, not the land or what we would think of as capital equipment (e.g. horses, mules, plows). If the plantation owners were forced to pay wages to produces their goods, the system would have been so much less profitable, it likely would have collapsed.
Moreover, consider this quote from the "Declaration of Causes which Impel the State of Texas to Secede from the Federal Union": "We hold as undeniable truths that the governments of the various States, and of the confederacy itself, were established exclusively by the white race, for themselves and their posterity; that the African race had no agency in their establishment; that they were rightfully held and regarded as an inferior and dependent race, and in that condition only could their existence in this country be rendered beneficial or tolerable." Reading the entire document compels but one conclusion: Texas seceded from the United States in 1861 because of slavery.
For those who would gloss over the impact of the American Civil War, consider this. Approximately 620,000 soldiers died in that war (a recent study put the number of deaths as high as 850,000). That is almost half (49%) of all American soldiers killed in all of the wars ever fought by the United States, including World Wars I and II, Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf War -- and the American Revolution -- around 644,000. Over 3 million soldiers fought on both sides in the American Civil War, many of whom were brothers that fought opposite each other. There is nothing romantic or nostalgic about this war. Over 1 million Americans either died or were wounded in this tragedy.
If we are to remember this episode in our history -- and we should -- let it be for the right reasons. I recognize that people fought to preserve their way of life and because they felt a sense of duty. But let's not lose sight of the bitter truths about this war. Ultimately, it was about slavery and that way of life is gone and should stay gone.
So for the people who claim anyone in favor of removing Confederate battle flags from official state images should "sit down and shut up," I say, "Hell, no." We can have a civil discourse whether streets named for those old leaders should be changed; civil discourse is part of our American way of doing things.
Or at least it should be. Removal of archaic, racist memorabilia? From your home, maybe not. From the state house, you bet.
I read online a remark that finally put me over the edge. In reaction to nine people gunned down at a prayer meeting and Bible study, many have called for removal of the Confederate battle flag. Without getting into all the First Amendment issues, I want to be clear: I believe the time has long since passed for that symbol to removed from official government locations. Fly it in your front yard or hang it on your pick-up truck, but don't try to make it an official symbol of American freedom, because it's not.
For those who want to get hyper-technical and argue this banner was never the official flag of the Confederate States of America, but only a flag carried into battle by some troops, my response is "horse-hockey." Anyone who has paid attention for the last 150 years knows the primary symbol of the old south is that emblem. Otherwise, if it were only some one-off standard from a single regiment, it would not have the impact it does.
For those who say it is only a symbol of southern pride and heritage, my guess is you do not have dark skin or ancestors carried over to this country on a slave ship. Your family was never sold or held in chains unjustly or split apart by a human master who decreed it. That flag may be a symbol of southern pride to you, but try walking in someone else's shoes for only a couple of minutes. For people who are the heirs of that legacy of slavery, the flag represents pain, humiliation, and shame.
There can be no pride in slavery because there is no dignity accorded to a human being trapped in that horrid state. Why on earth would you want to deliberately inflict more pain on people with that collective memory?Why insist they be subjected to it by their government?
For those who want to argue about the American Civil War, its purpose, and what percentage of people owned slaves before and during that war, my response is to check your facts. My great-great-grandfather fought and was wounded in the war on the Confederate side. I visited his grave last October and saw the Confederate flag ensconced on the grave marker. I have no quarrel with that, because that is history. And even though my family may not have owned slaves (but I cannot be certain), according to official census records from 1860, 28% of the families in Texas did own slaves. (In Mississippi it was 49%. ) Until recently I sincerely believed that my family never owned any slaves because they were so darned poor. My research into our genealogy has caused me to reconsider that life-long belief, because it is a serious possibility. There are legal records in Alabama indicating bequests that include slaves in wills, so if I am looking at the right person -- yet to be confirmed because the name is not uncommon, but good possibility -- then the evidence leans in the direction of slave ownership.
The Sons of Confederate Veterans and other apologists want to insist the American Civil War was not about slavery. Technically, they are correct -- at least insofar as why the war got started. The reason the war began was the "united" portion of United States was ripped asunder. Abraham Lincoln was very clear that his motivation was to save the Union.
However, the specter of slavery was very much in the picture from the beginning. The Missouri Compromise of 1820 that created the Mason-Dixon line, established the boundaries beyond which slavery could not extend. The Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854 completely stripped the carefully worked-out provisions from 1820, essentially repealing the compromise. It opened Kansas and Nebraska to slavery and provided that future territories would vote (that is, free, white male property owners could vote) whether slavery should be permitted in newly-opened territories.
So for those who want to argue that "War of Northern Aggression" was about states' rights, be careful. That position is true only if one understands the "states' right" at issue was slavery. Slavery was the economic backbone of the old south. The greatest concentration of wealth in the mid-19th century was in the hands of southern plantation owners. The largest portion of that wealth was the commercial value (at that time) of the slaves, not the land or what we would think of as capital equipment (e.g. horses, mules, plows). If the plantation owners were forced to pay wages to produces their goods, the system would have been so much less profitable, it likely would have collapsed.
Moreover, consider this quote from the "Declaration of Causes which Impel the State of Texas to Secede from the Federal Union": "We hold as undeniable truths that the governments of the various States, and of the confederacy itself, were established exclusively by the white race, for themselves and their posterity; that the African race had no agency in their establishment; that they were rightfully held and regarded as an inferior and dependent race, and in that condition only could their existence in this country be rendered beneficial or tolerable." Reading the entire document compels but one conclusion: Texas seceded from the United States in 1861 because of slavery.
For those who would gloss over the impact of the American Civil War, consider this. Approximately 620,000 soldiers died in that war (a recent study put the number of deaths as high as 850,000). That is almost half (49%) of all American soldiers killed in all of the wars ever fought by the United States, including World Wars I and II, Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf War -- and the American Revolution -- around 644,000. Over 3 million soldiers fought on both sides in the American Civil War, many of whom were brothers that fought opposite each other. There is nothing romantic or nostalgic about this war. Over 1 million Americans either died or were wounded in this tragedy.
If we are to remember this episode in our history -- and we should -- let it be for the right reasons. I recognize that people fought to preserve their way of life and because they felt a sense of duty. But let's not lose sight of the bitter truths about this war. Ultimately, it was about slavery and that way of life is gone and should stay gone.
So for the people who claim anyone in favor of removing Confederate battle flags from official state images should "sit down and shut up," I say, "Hell, no." We can have a civil discourse whether streets named for those old leaders should be changed; civil discourse is part of our American way of doing things.
Or at least it should be. Removal of archaic, racist memorabilia? From your home, maybe not. From the state house, you bet.
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