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Monday, December 8, 2014

I'm Not American

I am human.  Others might say I am American, but that's not who I am: That's where I live.

One thing I refuse to accept is that my identity (who I am) is determined by the place I was born on the planet.  Truth is that where I was born does in fact play a part in molding me into who I am in a sense (the societal and cultural values of the U.S. society inevitably shape all who live here), but my thought is that I don't want my citizenship label (mine being "American") to change the way I see other people from other parts of the world.



What I'm trying to say is that the USA is not superior.  Neither is Japan or Kenya or Pakistan or any other country you could name.   Once we start seeing our own country and values as greater than another country's, we begin to form bigoted, ostentatious mindsets that allow us to look down and treat others with prejudice.  I'm not saying that you should not love and be proud of your nation or country.  I love where I come from, and I'm thankful for my liberties.  All I am saying is that we are humans first, then Americans.  Humans first, and then Japanese, or then Kenyans, or then Pakistanis, etc.  When I look at a person, I hope that I first see their humanity and not their race or the color of their skin.  I hope I first see our similarities in lieu of our differences.

Let's go back to the 1940s again.  Nazi Germany.  It was a time of unparalleled racism, ignorance, sorrow, and unspeakable horrors.  We know this.  But let me just bring something to remembrance.  Hitler was an anti-Semite, no?  He mass murdered people because of their religious creed.  He also believed in a perfect race.  Blond hair.  Blue eyes.  (A far cry from me).  He judged people by how they appeared and for what they believed.  He saw them for what they looked like.  They were not judged by their humanity; no, they were judged by their nationality and appearance, and their penalty was death.  Hitler did not see them as humans.  There's no way he could have.  If you've read even just one tragic story about the Holocaust then you know that he did not see them as humans.  I just finished reading a nonfiction book called Elly about a young teenage girl who survived the Holocaust.  At one part she said that they were treated lesser than animals.  Hitler did not see a human when he looked into the eyes of a Jew.

Hitler is a brutal and extreme case of radical nationalism.  I use it as an example that we all know, of a person going too far when he/she believes that his/her nation (and therefore values/customs) is superior to another. I just mean to say that we should see ourselves as humans...then our nationality.  Humans first...because if we don't see ourselves as humans first...we may see others only through the narrow scope of our own nation's values, which can lead to thoughts of superiority and ascendancy, leaving us with an incomplete view of the world we live in, which is shared by billions of uniquely beautiful people who are just being human.


Monday, December 1, 2014

Laugh in the Face of Danger



^^^^^^WATCH THIS VIDEO FIRST!^^^^^^

The Lion King.  My favorite Disney movie, hands down, of ALL TIMES!  (Yes, way better than Frozen.  It's not sacrilegious to say this.  Some of you may burn me at the stake for heresy, but I laugh in the face of danger. Hahaha.)  And oh, Simba.  What a young and juvenile lion.  He, too, laughed in the face of danger.  He was really just a curious cat.  Testing his bounds.  Stretching his limits.  Showing off, even.  Ignorance and courage caused this little lion cub to stumble, just like we, being humans, do too.  But really, knowledge and fear is no better.

http://everythingfunny.org/page/1157/
These days, "the world is at our finger tips," so to speak.  We learn so much every day on the news, the internet and books, and from each other (however accurate these sources may be...who knows?!).  Knowledge is a beautiful, priceless thing, and it is extremely powerful, but if we do not protect our hearts, we will be wide open to a contagious plague in the genetic makeup of knowledge, and that is that big, bold four-letter "F" word...you know what I'm talking about.  Think about it.  Ya, you know.  Wait.  No, no, people, I mean "f-e-a-r!"  Gosh.  Anyway...so fear.  We all know what it feels like.  If you were to peg it as a positive or negative emotion, what would you think?


I talked in my last post about hope.  Having hope in the worst of circumstances.  I'm always going to come back to hope because I think I'm obsessed with it.  When I think of people I've known that have had hope, I first think of my grandmother, Marie.  Grammy was 93 when she passed away.  She lived another good 20 years after the passing of her husband (I was a year old when he died).  My gram, she was a real fighter.  I remember in high school she was beginning to fade; she was sure that she would die soon.  But she told me, "Andrea, I will continue to live because I want to see you graduate from high school."  Do you think she died before I graduated?  No.  She didn't.  She had the will to fight another day.  I will never forget this.  This one act of love and courage will stick with me forever.  I was the last of three grandchildren from her son Don.  I lived right up the road from her.  She saw the other two through high school graduation, and she was determined by love to see me graduate, too.

http://drlej.wordpress.com/2011/02/10/toxic-fear-and-its-antidote-love/
Does it seem like I have two (or more), very disconnected thoughts going here? ,Talking about ignorance, courage, knowledge, fear, and hope? Gosh, it's very possible with my crazy brain. I had to backtrack myself.  I know there is a connecting point.  Ok, I got it.  Here it is, guys.  You ready?  Perfect love casts out fear.  Had my gram feared death, she could not have fought it.  But she laughed in the face of danger.  She was able to do this because of love.  She would have died long before had she not had a reason to carry on, had she not given herself a reason to fight and overcome.  Bless my grandma.  I wanna be like her when I grow up!  My gram fought death for me.  Wow.  What kind of fear have you fought, and why did you fight it?  Maybe there is a fear now that you need to fight.  Find a LOVE reason to fight it, and that fear cannot win because perfect love casts out all fear.

There is so much more I could blab about in regards to this subject.  I leave it incomplete.  Come back soon to see the continuum.


Sunday, November 30, 2014

All Tatted Up

In October I went with my amazing middle sister to get a tattoo.  I spoke of experiencing physical pain in my last blog; this was definitely up there as some of the worst I've ever felt!  But self-inflicted pain is something I generally avoid, mind you.  Anyway, so this tattoo I designed.  Sort of.  I decided on the location, format, and then the languages really dictated the look.  "Hope" in 14 languages is now what is permanently inked in black on my pale skin on the left side of my back.
(A sample section of my tattoo)

After getting the tattoo, I thought it an ironic thing that I got a tattoo that would instill hope in me in a location where I can never see it.  Huh.  But then I thought, the location is actually symbolic in many ways and I didn't even realize it.  One, hope has always got my back!  So punny, I know.  Two, even though I can't see hope, it is always there somewhere inside of me (and now on me!).  Three, I tried to figure out why I instinctively wanted the tattoo on my left side and not my right.  I thought, maybe I'm cursed!  (I don't actually think I am, FYI). Biblically speaking, the left side of the body (or things "sent to the left") is cursed, while the right side is considered righteous or holy.  In the camps that Nazi Germany set up for the mass murdering of Jews (and others), if you were ordered to walk to the right, you would live (however temporarily).  If you were sent to the left, you would "disappear" forever.  An atrocity in history that will never be forgotten.
Hungarian Jews, marked with a Star of David, queue on their way into Auschwitz in 1944

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2518619/Winter-camps-Holocaust-survivor-died-Auschwitz-worked-concentration-camps-aged-just-13-recalls-bitterest-months-Nazi-persecution.html#ixzz3Kamc8b5V
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When I thought of this, I thought maybe choosing the left side of my back really was a mistake.  But I found a shimmer of light in this decision.  If the left side really is "cursed," biblically speaking, then that means there is hope even in the curse.  Furthermore, in speaking figuratively of the Nazi camps, there is hope even when things are looking so bad for you.  Even when you think you can't go on.  Even if you've been sentenced to emotional condemnation.  HOPE is there.  Hope will never leave.  In my case, it is tattooed on my back, so it really isn't going anywhere.  But in all of our cases, if you are breathing and reading these words, it is tattooed on your hearts.  Each human was born with hope.  Even when we can't see it or feel it, it is there.  Never lose heart.

I hope my tattooed enlightenment could inspire you like it did me.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Where's Humanity At?

I sit here.  Perplexed.  Amazed.  By the injustices that surround me.  Is there a reason to live?  A reason to strive?  So many things make me think "no."  But that stems from the pain that I feel in a very personal sense.  But again I think.  I think again of the pain that's felt by so many others that is so much deeper than the pain I feel.  I think I know pain, but I don't know it the way others do.  The pain of losing a child.  (I've never had a child).  The pain of going without.  (I've never been without).  The pain and sacrifice of fighting for my nation (I've never done this.)   The pain of losing a loved one.  (This is something I have not felt).  So again I think...I have felt a lot of pain, but it's mostly physical.  This is true.  But I know I have a greater reason to live because I have not even felt the greatest pain that there is to feel.  Sure, I've felt my share of physical pains and sufferings, of which I will not share in this blog.  But honestly, in comparison to what others have felt and experienced, I have nothing to share as far as pain goes.  I have not much to share except the pain that I have felt through the experience of others. Through reading the news.  Through talking to others from other countries.  Through talking to others who have lost sons and daughters, husbands and wives.  What do I have to bring to the table?

 I've been on mission trips.  I've seen how people live in third world countries.  People eating from trash cans.  People living without clean water.  People living without being able to feed themselves and their children.  But then I leave.  It's a temporary experience.  I go back to my cozy home.  It's 20 degrees F outside and I'm in a cozy home of 70 F degrees.   I have a fireplace, a couch, a wardrobe, a toothbrush, and the resources to buy so much more than I need.  Do I really know what pain is?  I'm sorry if this seems too front, but I've never been raped, my home hasn't been burned down for being a Christian, nobody has told me that I can't go out into public with jeans on.  I'm basically free to do as I wish.  These are not freedoms others possess.  What do I have to complain about?  But yet I find reasons to complain. I have no reason.  I have been given so many freedoms and yet I do nothing with them.  What is wrong with me?  How could I not do something with my freedoms?  I have the gift of literacy and education and political freedom, and yet I sit on it like a frog on a stool.  WHY?  Because it's so damn comfortable.  I don't want to move.  Why do something if it doesn't benefit me?  It's selfishness.  I could spend my life like this.  Like so many others.  But honestly, I've done the math.  If I live 90 years (which is generous), I will live 32, 850 days.  Every day that passes, I waste on my own pleasures and desires.  What do I do with my free time? I spend it on useless entertainment.  What if I spent this extra time on helping others?  How could I change the world?  I've determined in my mind that this is something I must do.  I have to.  What other purpose on the world do I have except to serve others?