A Front Row Seat!

I missed the Martin Luther King, Jr march yesterday.  Not sure what I was doing, but pretty sure it was important.  So today I will give you a glimpse into that time in my life.

In 1958, while I was 17 years old, I decided to take a "road trip".  Few people know this and even fewer care, but it was one of the most enlightening things I have ever done and probably did more to shape who I am today then a lot of things I have done.  It goes without saying that since I was 17 years old at the time, I was classified as a "juvenile runaway."  To make a long story short and to get to the heart of this blog, I will just say I ended up in jail in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.  Of course mother sent money for a bus ride home and I was damn glad to take that ride.

Have you ever been in jail?  It is no fun.  I was thrown into a room with a bunch of women who were very kind to me.  They were also, all white.  They talked to me about the error of my ways, and I could not help but agree with them.  All I wanted was to go home.   I quickly learned that there was another cell across the hall where the black women were kept.  Same separation for the men.  This was very strange to me.  When they transported me to the bus station, I learned that the rest rooms for the whites was one place and the ones for the blacks another.  They were very clearly marked "Whites Only" and "Negroes only".  Sadly the sigh did not say "Negroes", but a derogatory term.  Until that time, I had never known there was a differentiation for human beings.  I instinctively did not like it!

You must realize that I grew up in Nickerson, Kansas, and there were only white people there.  I can remember back in my far reaches of my mind talk I overheard about a cross burning outside of town.  I think my father may have taken part in that, because there had been a crowd of men and he seemed to know all about how it went down.  The family moved away right after that.  We moved to Hutchinson several years after that.  It was then that I saw what segregation really was.

Hutchinson, Kansas was divided into North and South with Sherman Street being the dividing line.    Blacks and Hispanics lived south of Sherman: Whites lived north of Sherman.  As the upper class, we were allowed to go to the south end, but they were not allowed north of the line. White people who chose to live South of the line were known as "white trash".  After a night of drinking, Jake and I would venture to South Plum and either eat at Betty's Fried Chicken, or a barbecue place, the name of which slips my mind right now.  We could do that because we were white.  White Privilege's were rampant back then.

The first signs of integration in the public work place happened in Hutchinson at the Landmark Hotel and Restaurant.  I do not remember the year but it seems like it was in the early 1960's.  They hired a black waitress and of course the citizenry were up in arms.  Not only was this woman working in a public place for all the world to see, but she dared to venture north of the Sherman Street line!  Sometimes we would park and just watch her working in there and carrying plates of food to the fine white people.  From our vantage point of the street, she did not appear to be "uppity", but in order to  judge her fairly, we would need to go in and actually order food and have her carry it to us.  But that was back in the day when any spare change was designated for the "beer joints" down on south Main!

  An aside here.  The biggest problem the beer joints on South Main seemed to have was the "Indians" who worked for the railroad.  They wanted to have a beer after work, but they were not allowed to do that because any fool knows "if you get them liquored up, they are going to kill us."  Kansas was pretty lily white back in those days.  White anglo saxon protestants were the chosen people.  Lucky for me!

Sadly, at that point in time drinking was far more important than eating, or standing up for the down trodden who had "chosen to be born black."  And mother corrected me on the use of the word " black".
"They are not black!  They are actually a very beautiful shade of brown."  However "Browns" was reserved for the people who had come up from Mexico.  Now be aware, that there were very few of them in my world!  And I am not sure they had come from Mexico, but we called them "Mexicans".

Now, you must realize here that I was growing up during this period of unrest and both Nickerson and Hutchinson,  Kansas were pretty well isolated from the unrest in the big cities.  By the time I figured out that there was a gulf between the rights of Negroes and Whites, it had diminished to a thin line.  After the election of some one's President (not mine) segregation has once more reared it's ugly head.  The same faction that follows this man refers to Obama as "that effen N#**@7."

So on this day after Marin Luther King, Jr's holiday, I reflect on the past.  For the record, I never participated in any hate marches.  I never called my black brothers and sisters by a derogatory name.  People are people in my world,  They are judged by the content of their hearts, not the color of their skin or which side of Sherman Avenue they lived  many years ago.

To this day I thank my God that I was born colorblind and raised by a mother who judged a man by the content of his soul and not the color of his skin.

"These truths we hold to be self evident, that all men are created equal." (Or something to that affect.)

Today is national hug your neighbor day, here at my house!



 

What a wonderful week it was!

Obamacare, commonly known among those in the know as "The Affordable Care Act,"  stands as is.  After a massacre in Charleston of 9 Blacks in a church, the Rebel flag has been removed from the flagpole at the Capital.  And discrimination for my gay comrades has ended and they are free to marry.  Imagine that!  I took up the banner of gay rights over 30 years ago, so this was a real victory to me.

Of course, with the SCOTUS ruling, comes the "Bible Thumpers."  Relax!  I am one myself.  I tout the Bible to anyone that will listen.  I preach love, understanding, forgiveness, acceptance, kindness, and truth.  But being on social media, there is always an opinion and a lot of links to prove a point.  So it upset me yesterday when a link was posted to "prove by the Bible" that gays can not only not marry, but as near as I can tell, not exist and will burn in hell!  To this I will hit the unfriend button every time.

I have lived and worked along side some of the sweetest people in the world who happen to be gay.  30 years ago, when I took up this banner, I knew there would be no turning back.  And I haven't.  My God made my gay friends just exactly as they are.  My God does not make mistakes.  The Old Testament is full of all kinds of things you can not do.  You can not eat shell fish, nor the cloven hoof, and if your brother dies without leaving any children you have to marry his wife and carry on his seed.  But that is the Old Testament.  All things are now new.

I was a care giver through the height of the AIDS epidemic and still volunteer with Southern Colorado AIDS Project (although it has a different  name now).  I was there when the Privacy Act was being implemented.  I was there to hold frail bodies as they left this world.  I was there when they thought AIDS could be caught by touching.  I was there as a shoulder to lean on or as a whipping post for someone lashing out at mans inhumanity to man.  I was there when the medicines were being introduced that have now changed the death sentence of AIDS to a manageble condition.  And through it all, the one group we could always count on for support of a financial nature or a shoulder to lean on when we were tired was the gay community.

The gay community that was called names because they were different.  Because a woman loved a woman or a man loved a man.  Hated in the name of love!  Does that sound like a Godly person to you?  "Judge not lest ye be the judge."  I am proud to be who I am, a straight woman with a whole lot of gay friends.  I am proud to set beside my gay friend in church because I know if I need something, he will be there!

So today I will go worship my God.  My God who accepts me as I am.  My God who loves all people and I will thank the Surpreme Court Of The United States for being unbiased and showing me that , yes there is justice in this world and right does sometimes win.

Getting rid of the frail old body and moving on up!

Not to be alarmed, kiddies, it is not me!  But yesterday I got a phone call.  A friend is dying and would I come?  Of course!  I left the sewing job I was working on down stairs, put on my bra, and drove across town.  I joined her husband, the minister and a girl from Sangre de Cristo Hospice at her bedside.  She had grown even frailer than the last time I had seen her a week before.  She is at home in a hospital bed in the front room surrounded by the remnants of her life.  Throughout the afternoon a few friends stopped by, more of hospice stopped in, and flowers were delivered.  She did not know it, but we all did.

I looked around the room at pieces of art that represented her life.  There were framed tatted doilies that she had made.  Art work by her daughter.  Pictures of her and Doug when they were young.  Pictures of the kids, the grandkids, the dog, and where had the cat gotten off to anyway?

And everywhere reminders of the activism in thier lives.  I do not know when I met these people nor where.  It seems I had always known them.  The Peace Flotilla, Meals on Wheels, Ghandi Peace Garden, Rally against Amendment #2, on and on.  Always Doug passing out flyers or leading the march and always Dorothy on his arm.  We belong to the same church, and apparently belong to the same causes!

I believe that on this level words are not needed.  I believe the person preparing for the journey knows exactly what is going on and can intercept our thoughts.  So I gave her good ones!  Green valleys, cool sunshine, soft clouds, and the gentlest rain.  I gave her soft music, beautiful flowers, and sweet smells.  I gave her soft kittens and butterflies; and I hope a glimpse of the Holy City where she will live after she flits around the world and fills her head with the knowledge of the ages.  And finished with the face of Jesus, so kind, caring and welcoming with his out stretched arms.  "Come home, Dorothy.  I am waiting."

I had to come home for a while in the evening to do chores.  When I went back Dorothy had quieted.  Her daughters arrived about 10:00.  I think she was waiting for them.  I took my leave so they could say thier goodbyes without a stranger there.  I have not heard this morning and it is kind of early to call, but if I were a betting person, I would bet she is free from her body that held her prisoner and is soaring above us, smiling down and touching us with a peace that is not attainable on this level.

God speed, Dorothy!  See you soon!

 

Milton Hershey School and my boycott on Hershey Products.

In case you missed it, this statement was released on December 1, which was World AIDS Day.  I can not let this one slide by and was on facebook until late last night with defenders of MHS. I must say these people are very biased and uneducated.

Here is the entire statement from the Hershey School:Today, Milton Hershey School had planned to file a request in federal court asking the court to review our decision to deny enrollment to a child who is HIV positive because of concerns for the health and safety of our current students.
We had been in discussions with the AIDS Law Project of Pennsylvania, which is representing this 13-year-old boy. Recognizing the complex legal issues, the School was preparing to ask the court to weigh in on this matter. Unfortunately, attorneys for the young man took the adversarial action of filing a lawsuit against the School.
The decision to deny enrollment was a challenging one for us to make. Like all our enrollment decisions, we need to balance our desire to serve the needs of an individual child seeking admission with our obligation to protect the health and safety of all 1,850 children already in our care.
Attorneys for this young man and his mother have suggested that this case is comparable to the Ryan White case. But this case is actually nothing like the Ryan White case. Milton Hershey School is not a day school, where students go home to their family at the end of the day. Instead, this is a unique home-like environment, a pre-K to 12 residential school where children live in homes with 10 to 12 other students on our campus 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
In order to protect our children in this unique environment, we cannot accommodate the needs of students with chronic communicable diseases that pose a direct threat to the health and safety of others.The reason is simple. We are serving children, and no child can be assumed to always make responsible decisions which protect the well-being of others.
That is why, after careful review and analysis, we determined we could not put our children at risk.

By Dan Stamm for NBC News (Philadelphia)

Now, my take on this.  I am sure the MHS is a privately owned and privately funded school and I am sure they do not have to let this boy in.  That is neither here nor there.  What upsets me is the reasoning and ignorance behind the statements "our decision to deny enrollment to a child who is HIV positive because of concerns for the health and safety of our current students." and "In order to protect our children in this unique environment, we cannot accommodate the needs of students with chronic communicable diseases that pose a direct threat to the health and safety of others."
We work very hard teaching people that HIV/AIDS is a chronic disease and must be managed as such, and then we encounter educated people like this that runs screaming from a 13 year old boy who carries the infection, just breaks my heart.
I volunteer with a group that is funded by Ryan White.  The Clinic is funded by Ryan White.  Education is one of the main goals of Ryan White.  The White family did not ever want another child to go through what their son went through, hence the goal of education.  We deal with AIDS clients on a daily basis.  I feed them, hug them, kiss them good bye.  I have set by bedsides as life ebbed from the frail body and held them so they were not alone.  I remain negative.
One of the defenders last night told me they have a trust fund and do not need my piddly amount of money that I spend on Hershey products.  That came as a shock to me because I use a can or two of cocoa every month and sometimes I grab a candy bar.  I will not go into all the conversations on facebook last night, but I must post this one.  Well, never mind.  They have suspended all posts on their site and  it is gone, but I remember it and it went like this "I AM A FIREFIGHTER AND GO TO THIS SCHOOL AND I DO NOT WANT HIM HERE!"  There was more, but it is all a moot point.
So I say this to you;  I will no longer buy any Hershey product. I can not in any way bring myself to put another cent into the coffers of a  member of this world community that refuses to be educated in a disease that strikes the innocent as well as the not so innocent.  We are all God's creatures and Hershey makes no mention of compassion, understanding and they are sending 1,850 students into the world every year to carry on thier message of intolerance.  If the people I encountered on thier site last night are any representation of these self same students I do not want to meet any of them on the street.  They have become mean intolerant big people.  I will stay here in my little world and do my humble service to the clients who need me and I will send a donation to this kid as soon as I get a site for him.  Not for his legal fund, but because it is kids like this who become the Ryan White's of tomorrow.


 
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Martin Luther King Jr. day.

Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day.  There will be no mail.  Banks are probably closed.  School is out.  But how many of you reading this know or care what went on in connection with Martin Luther King Jr.    I  do. Do I remember the dates?  No, I do not.  Do I remember specific incidents?  No I do not.  I remember in generalities.  Selma, as a fleeting memory.  The 3 civil rights workers that were murdered and buried in a dam or something.  As an injustice.  The integration of Little Rock, Arkansas as something I was glad was not happening here.  Man's inhumanity to man was at that point in history at the pinnacle of injustice, hatred, and every vile word that comes to the front of my mind.

I remember being incensed, but I do not recall feeling empathy.  They were, after all,  only niggers.  They had been born as niggers and they still were, only now they were different.  I remember thinking, somewhere in the recesses of my mind that these people (?) could have feelings.  For many, many years, I had been aware of their existence, but they were not a part of my life.  I did not interact with them at all, because there were none in my small town.  But now here they were, angry and wanting civil rights.  What was civil rights?  Hell, I had no idea, nor did I care.  I just knew that black people were acting up and it was affecting the whole world.  My world.

Then at some point in time I had a thought.  What if that were me?  What if I was black?  Would my friends spit on me?  Sure they would.  Could I go to school?  No I could not.  I watched the kids going to Little Rock and wondered why they were doing that.  I watched the white kids throwing rocks and bottles at them.  I could not understand that either.  I listened to Martin Luther King Jr. speeches and they made sense to me.  I was not raised in a racist home.  Mom and dad were more concerned with putting food on the table then who went to school in Little Rock, Arkansas.

I remember.  I remember the White Only signs in restaurants and on bathroom doors.  I remember Medgar Evers, the Black Panthers, Rosa Parks and I tremble with shame and rage at the whole thing.  We, proud citizens of the United States of America, brought black people to the shores of this great country in chains and yokes and forced them to labor in the hot sun in fields and kitchens of the aristocrats.  They were niggers.  They were not allowed to marry, they were sold and families broken and shattered.  What were we thinking?  What justification did our forefathers offer as a reason for this?  We killed a man who tried to set them free.

For years they suffered in silence and then came another saviour.  John Kennedy strove for civil rights and we killed him. Martin Luther King Jr.  He did it.  He freed them.  And again we killed him.  Our answer to everything is to kill some body.  We now have Civil Rights laws in place and the second class citizens that suffered so many years are treated as equal.  Not separate but equal, as once was proposed.  This is a lot like don't ask don't tell.  Who will we kill when that one is repealed?

I am not a very smart woman, but I do know right from wrong.  We have done lots of things in this country to make me scratch my head and wonder, but you know what?  Back in that era there was a lot of hate.  Two sides and both thinking that their side was right.  Emotions ran high.  But it all worked out.  I am a quilt maker.  Sometimes a piece does not want to go in where it is supposed to and I have found if I tug a little here and a little more there, pretty soon it is in there right where it goes and it looks very good.  Same thing happened in the civil rights movement.  I watch Oprah.  I saw some of the white kids who were there in Little Rock and some of the black kids.  It is many years later and they have come to terms and faced their demons. 

That is what life is all about.  Just like the first time they flipped the switch and a light came on.  Bet that scared hell out of some one.  I think humans by very nature of being human want to do what is right.  We just have a hard time figuring out what right is, but when we get the big picture we are the best in the world at enforcing it.  Lincoln did not die in vain.  Nor did JFK, or Martin Luther King Jr.  We have come full circle, but there are more circles ahead of us. 

My favorite quote of Martin Luther King Jr. is not from the I Have a Dream Speech, but this one:

"In the end we will not remember the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."    Martin Luther King Jr.