Uncle Loud and the Statue

A Short Story Illustrating the Impact of Statues
Silh of man
Jesse looked out the window and smiled. This had to be the happiest day of his life. He was on the train headed to college! “I made it! I’m finally out of that house of horrors.”

Jesse sat back in his seat and thought about the first time he met Aunt “Quiet” and Uncle “Loud”. That’s what he called them at the family gathering when he was 5, back when his parents were alive. Continue reading

Mature Blogging

I have been reading over my past blog posts. I’ve come to realized two things:

  • I write really well when I’m hurt or learning
  • I was really hurting and learning back then

Does this mean that I’m not writing well now or that I’m not hurting and learning now? Well, the answer is yes and no. Because I’m human I am always learning, but I think the lessons now are not as profound as they were. Now I’m learning life’s best practices like “Oh look, there’s pitfall. How shall I avoid it?” rather than “Oh Shit! Where did that big-ass hole come from?” I can see the pitfalls now. Back then, I didn’t know what a pitfall was.

My writing is also from a different place now; a more grown up and adult place. I can deal with the hurts much better now; I know that I won’t die from them so my reaction is not so extreme. And that may not make for such exciting posts.

It also doesn’t help that my time isn’t a free as it was. I don’t have much free time to think let alone time to write. And when those juicy thoughts do come to mind, I often find that I’m too busy to write them down. Unfortunately, my older mind can’t hold onto them too long and they end up slipping away.

But as we know, life is an adventurous journey. At some point, I will be revisited by hurt and will have more learning to do. Till then, please enjoy my more mature but mellow posts.


Their fear of revenge

There was a time in this country, not too long ago, when if you were not White Anglo-Saxon Protestant and male you could be considered cattle and/or non-human, have your property and land taken away, and be denied various human rights like housing and jobs (Irish and Jews), or your life (all people of color).
The descendants of these people know of and remember the atrocities that their forefathers committed. And each time they hear about the decline in the White population and the growth of the minorities and minority “sympathizers”, they become more afraid. Because when your history is filled with violence and disrespect for human life and human rights, you fear those you have wrong will eventually take revenge.quote-fear-of-something-is-at-the-root-of-hate-for-others-and-hate-within-will-eventually-destroy-the-george-washington-carver-33113 I believe many of the ridiculous laws and policies being pushed through and passed are the result of this fear. It’s a need to further control those that have been wronged to prevent them from exacting the revenge the oppressors have envisioned. (Mind you, a revenge they would have no problem enacting if the tables were turned).
They are afraid, very afraid. As we continue to learn and earn degrees and privileges that were only available to white men, they fear that we are getting too powerful. That soon they will be out of power and we will enact our revenge. How do you rationalize with the irrational? How do you survive when your very existence is a threat and must be oppressed or eradicated?

Life after Delivery

I recently found this beautiful story and wanted to share it. I did not write the story or own the picture. They are owned by their respective creators.- ReGina

mother with childIn a mother’s womb were two babies. One asked the other:

“Do you believe in life after delivery?” The other replied, “Why, of course. There has to be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.”

“Nonsense” said the first. “There is no life after delivery. What kind of life would that be?” Continue reading

An Illustrative Story on the Myth of Cultural Greatness

During a discussion on why and how certain things are taught in school, a coworker of mine stated (I’m paraphrasing) “Really, the greatness of a culture is based on the durability of its ideals.” I immediately bristled at this thought knowing that history is defined by those who are in power. But rather than starting an argument, I took some time to really think about his statement and compare it to my knowledge. From that I came up with this story: Continue reading