AIG NEEDS TO BAIL US OUT!

     AIG is just one of the entities that has deceased our existence!  I was stunned to hear that they used our tax payer money for “BONUSES!”  I mean, come on!  What do these corporations have in their brains?  And then I hear several CNBC and Fox News commentators calling me a loser because I cannot pay my mortgage.  The real menace to society is stationed in huge corporations that have “Corporate Greed” written all over their assets.  I have been responsible, I have payed my bills on time for years!  Is it my fault that my husband was laid off from NBC News in Tampa, Florida?  Is he a loser for being a dedicated employee and a victim of bad management?

     Everyone is pointing fingers on who brought upon this economic tsunami, but I don’t think the American people really care about that!  What we need is action!  We need to send a message to these greedy corporations that we do matter!  We need a band aid that will stop the bleeding!  We don’t need a psychologist assuring us that as we watch the DOW, things will get better.  You know when things will get better?  When AIG bails me out by promoting ethical standards during a time of crisis!  AIG and other bailed out companies need to delete their thought bubble on “how to make more profit,” and they need to start thinking about the future of our country.  The stability of the middle class and the poor is the only way to get the country moving, and the abuse of power needs to end!

Go get them congress!  Bail us out!  Click below and send a message!

 http://www.thepetitionsite.com/

Think You’ve lost Hope? You are not Alone!

     At thirty five, I have become a woman who is no longer concerned with jewelry and fashionable clothing.  I am a wife, a mother, and a teacher who has realized that thinking about the aesthetic sections of life are no longer needed in such a fragile existence.  Please don’t think I am quoting Camus or Satre, I am simply trying to underline the overall role I must play during this crazy time.

     I met Edward, now my husband, in nineteen-night-five, and even though our relationship has been a turbulent ride, we have been able to establish a set of rules.  We decided to be honest, trustworthy, and supportive; after years dating, we were married in two-thousand-three.  I questioned my love several times through the years, we experienced the “seven year itch” more than once, we struggled managing our finances; but in the end, we still supported each other.  When our daughter Cecilia was born in two-thousand-four, we realized that our lives no longer orbited around us–Cecilia became the center of our lives.  My husband breathed for Cecilia, and I lived for her along the way.  Now that she is almost turning five, my husband is running out breath and my eyes have been blinded by our existence.  I have not lost faith, but I have lost hope.

     I have faith in God, and I have always worshiped his love in my own way.  However, when Eddie was laid off, my faith transformed into a marble on a large wall that everyone is trying to chisel.  The more I read, the more I find people losing hope.  The hopelessness I feel has transformed the outlook I have on my own existence, and not many people understand how I feel.  I can’texpect my friends to understand completely, but when one of my friends sent me the quote, “Good things come to those who wait;” I could only think there was an absence of empathy.  I know I must wait!  I know that eventually things will get better, but the empty message was just enough to sent me over the edge.  I apologize to those I may hurt, but Confucius’s advice is not the sort of support we need!

     ”You don’t understand how to live when you have not walked in another persons shoes.  If you have no words to support a person who is suffering due to this economic crisis, then just shut it!  Maybe you would like to explain things to my bright daughter on why we can’t pay bills!  Maybe you would like to breathe for her or see through her eyes if and when we loose our home!  If others fail to be honest, truthful, and supportive to families struggling through the same ordeal as we are, then maybe they should establish new rules on how not to lose hope when there is lack of hope!

Republicans? Oh, Put a Lid on it!

     Republicans need to put a lid on it!  Seriously, why do they continue to criticize the Stimulus Plan without providing their own ideas.  If “you” think the plan is such a terrible idea, then why don’t “you” come up with something better?  “I didn’t get to read it!” they say.  Well, why not?  Didn’t we elect you to be able to do your job?  Heck, I read Moby Dick in three days, and our elected officials can’t read an important plan for our sake? Does reading for too long create a burden on your their brains? 

     I get sick and tired of the same bickering and moping by Republicans.  “I am not accepting the money because it is wasteful spending,”  as the governor of Louisiana, Bobby Jindal, sated.  Bobby, bobby, Bobby!  Haven’t you noticed that there are families still living in FEMA Trailers in New Orleans?  I am sure that many of these amazing Americans will be happy to accept the President’s offer!  The people of New Orleans deserve aide, and I don’t consider their future “wasteful spending!”  When Americans are faced with such a turbulent economy, it is the job of our elected officials to guide us through the chaos. 

     My parents decided in 1980, to migrate to the United States of America only because this country was able to provide both me and my brother with a solid college education.  My brother became the first member of our extensive family to graduate from a four year university, and I followed a few years later.  Thank God, my brother Jose is doing well in his computer management postion, but for how long?  I became a teacher, a profession I dreamt of since childhood.  But ever since I became teacher, I have been disillusioned with the politics of the profession, standardized testing, and accountablity according to the FCAT (a test in FLorida that is a flawed measuring sytem.)  The profession has fallen itno the same wave of bickering and moping.  However, I am proud of my profession and my students, and I intend to retire as an educator.

     On the other hand, my husband’s story is more tragic.  He graduated from the wonderful University of Tampa, and he interned at WFLA, Channel Eight in Tampa, Florida.  He was employed by Fox News in Tampa for one year, and then in 2002, he was hired at WFLA, NBC News.  He was content in his editing postion, he was a devoted employee, he loved his role with the media, and in one day last week;  it all dissapeared.  He was laid off.  The station was generous and emotional, but emotions do not pay our bills.  Emotions do not make sure that our daughter has health care coverage. emptions do not give us hope.

     We bought our home six years ago with the aide of our bank, Bank of America.  We were responsible when we took on the task of owning our first home.  We were never late on payments either on our mortgage or any other expense we had, yet as the month of August in 2008 began, we began to see our savings diminish and our budget tighten.  We never spent money on things we didn’t need.  During the month of June, we installed tile on only half of our home because we both suffered from allergies, and we bought a new T.V because we could afford it at the time.  But now, we are faced with unemployment.  We never thought, that my husband, a loyal employee; would ever get laid off.

     Are we fools?  Are we irresponsible?  No!  We are a hard working couple who is trying to make it through for the sake of our four-year-old daughter.  We just want to move on and work!  We just can’t do it without help!  We need someone to guide us there, give us a push, and within a few months; we will rebuild our lives.  I strongly believe that our President, Barack Obama, is that leader.  I strongly believe that we elected him because he does the reading, he does the studying, and he does care about our lives!

Put a lid on it Republicans!  Do something to help families like mine!

Lay Off? No, Not Us

     “No, I am fine.  Both my husband and I have stable jobs, a college education.  We’ll be fine.”  That was a month ago, when I responded to my mother’s comment, “We are all scared about our jobs.  What if you lose yours?”  One month ago seems like a year now, but I was wrong.  My husband, an employee in the News media ,was laid off from work on Tuesday, February 17, 2009.  He was a loyal employee in the editing department who never missed work unless our daughter or I was ill.  He performed the job of two people over the weekend only because he made the offer to the station.  He never asked for extras, bonuses, or even overtime unless it was given to him.                                                                                

And yet, WFLA (NBC Tampa, Florida) bosses walked his coworker into Human Resources on Tuesday and laid her off first.  Just as my husband watched our President sign the Stimulus Plan, he was contacted and walked over to Human Resources.  His hopes broken, his dreams deferred, and his esteem destroyed, he took in all the words that the big guys said.  “We are sorry.  You’re a great employee.  We must do this.  You will receive a paycheck twice, and then you will receive a severence package.  Thank you for your internship dedication and five years of full-time work, but we must let you go.”

And just  like that, his employment ended, his and our four-year-old’s medical benefits timelined to two weeks. 

My husband called me from the road to inform me about the lay off, and I didn’t believe him at first since he is always joking.  When the reality sunk in, I fell to me knees and trembled with fear.  See, we have planned our lives since we first met in 1995, but all of a sudden, fate took over our plans and diminished our hopes in seconds.  “What now,”  I cired, “What now?”

Our phone continues to ring with advice from our relatives, and as we watch the news about the CEOs who continue to ask for bailout money; I can’t help but curse at the television,  “No one is F—–g bailing us out!  Some of these greedy jerks have decided to deposit their millions in foreign accounts to avoid paying taxes!  We have paid our taxes, paid our bills, lived as productive members of society and yet here we are!”  It angers me that Republican leaders continue to say that Government is the problem, that Government should give hand-me-downs.  Here is a message to the GOP, who will helps us now if not our Government?  Get your face out of your a–s, get over the election loss, and they need to begin working for people like us who have been loyal to this country since our families migrated in the ealry 1980’s.  Enough is enough! 

I am proud of my husband.  He is taking this so well.  I am not sure if he is putting on a happy face for us, but while I am devastated; he dances with our little girl.  He takes pleasure being with her more often, and he smiles as he washes the dishes.  While I am pessimistic, he seems optimistic.  And when I feel like punching the wall, he paint-touches the small cracks that have developed.  While I drink wine to relax, he drinks water to purify his soul.  I am proud of him inspite of everything that has happened.  While we being to rehearse for the roles we have to play ahead, we pray that our President helps us get out of this tragedy.

I Wonder if Things Will Fall Apart

I am hoping that things will get better.  We all have stories that have become somewhat of a fine print as we move on.  “Let’s see, if I buy a new car, how much more will I have for the rest of the bills?  If I receive Cancer treatment, how much time will I be away from work?  If I purchase the new medication prescribed to me, how much will I have for groceries?  Why is my job so difficult?  I work and work without positive feedback from my boss.”  Many of us have different ways of coping, and many of us try not to cope at all.  Ilike to look at my daughter’s face as much as I can because her beauty and innocence makes me feel at ease. 

Children have a sense of wonder, and that wonder is what keeps them ticking.  Why does this sense of wonder not work on adults?  If I wonder, I quickly distort reality.  Reality then seems to be a figment of the universe’s imagination.  I should be the one to blame if  reality distorted , but when the universe becomes shady and contorted; “things fall apart.”  When I look at my child, I feel her sense of wonder, but I also fear that her wonder will tear her apart when she becomes older.  What will happen when she discovers the apathy of the world as I have?  That will brake my life.

Sure, I understand that as parents, we need to set an example.  We need to guide our children and teach them how to thrive.  However, what happens when we can’t find the pieces to the puzzle?  What then?  What do I tell my child on why things are the way they are and there is nothing we can do sometimes?  “But why?”  My daughter would ask.  And I would never have an answer; that’s what I fear. 

My debt is high, my health is deteriorating, my workplace is stressful, and I can’t sleep.  And here I am alone again with my thought about “children and wonder.”  But as I look into the future, I pray to God that he gives me the strength to tell my little princess that there is still hope in people, and that in fact; the universe is not as bad as I thought it was.  “Things will stay in place,”  I hope.  I wonder if things will fall apart if I fail to get things right.

The New Year

     Perhaps it’s an ordained fact that I am sitting here in total darkness writing this blog.  Perhaps it’s just a matter of luck that I am awaiting the new year alone while my four-year-old daughter sleeps peacefully in her room.  The neighbors have blasted fireworks since the sun set, and I am annoyed that my glass of wine is empty.  I am lazy, annoyed, tired, and I can’t help but feel nauseated watching the New Year’s Eve coverage on both major networks.  It seems that every year the performances and the interviews are lamer and falser.  I guess I will have to get up and reach for another glass of wine, but I am not sure what to do to pass time.  Sure, I could have been in Miami celebrating with family, but we moved to Central Florida to get away from the cost of living and the unbelievably corrupt city that we called home for several years.  It has been eleven years since we made the move, and once again here I am alone, drinking a glass of wine all on my own because my husband had to work.  Perhaps it was meant to be this way, but I have yet to get used to bringing in the new year on my own.

     It is a fact though, that I have a positive outlook for 2009.  What many of us have failed to realize that we are more alike than different.  We are all experiencing financial hardships, we are all alone at one time or another, we are all looking to fill our glasses, but we do not fail to realize is that hope is the only way to a better tomorrow.  It was that “HOPE” that brought us together on November 4, 2008 and it will be that “HOPE” that will pull our lives together.  We must struggle.  We must fall.  We must climb.  We must cry.  But we will never look back and mope around our failures, we will recoup and move on.

     Perhaps, it was an ordained biographical scripture that I sit here alone, but I am positive that my loneliness is a message that I must remain calm if I fall.  I must remain strong for my daughter.  I must not stumble to fill my glass or those of others.  I must keep my chin up in spite of the hardships that 2008 brought me.  In fact, I may not be used to being alone during New Year’s Eve, but I am used to the hopeful persistence of my ordained spirit.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Barack Obama: A President that will Inspire and Represent

 

     No one can argue that the majority of the people in the Unites States of America decided to vote for “Change.”  Without reasonable doubt, the American people listened with an open ear and a clear heart to Barack Obama over the course of twenty-two months.  In the end, the voters came out in packs fighting for change and therefore spreading hope around the world.  We can hope now! Fear is just a word that tried to destroy the American dream by a politician who gave nothing to Americans and the world but a check that has bounced.  We are no longer scared of what is ahead.  We will now have a leader that will clear our eyes and inspire the old and young to become involved with our families, our communities, our education, and our government. 

     Our new government has been chosen by the people and for the people—no longer will the doors to the White House be closed to us.  For eight years, the Bush Administration has worked secretively behind closed doors puppetering our lives with a shaky hand.  The constitution was silenced, and the voices of the souls still resting down at Ground Zero have not been quieted by capturing the evil doer of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks.  We have been shocked day in and day out at the incomplete planning of the Iraqi War.  Our brave soldiers have fought bravely in Iraq and it is time to bring them home.  In addition, the Iraqi Government has clearly stated that we must remove our troops by the first sixteen months of the New Year.  Our new president will reestablish the reputation we once had but restoring the broken cords in the White House and he will make sure to give our soldiers back the hope and inspiration to fight the true terrorists and find Osama Bin Laden. 

     Our Government will be represented by a man that can walk in everyone’s shoes and listen with a bipartisan mind.  Barack Obama will not be the Government; he will guide the government through the tough tasks that lay ahead.  We know that the road ahead is extremely bumpy, but in the end, we know we will work together to restore the common purpose that all Americans were born to do.  It is a purpose that was muted by a divided America, an America that lost hope.  That hope has been revived in us through a new leader in Barack Obama.  We are united once again, and aided by Obama’s leadership; we will redefine our purpose as we begin to rebuild our beautiful country and the rest of the world.

     Last January, my husband and I took a trip to Baltimore, Maryland to visit the home of Edgar Allan Poe.  It was a rainy day on the 19^TH, the day that celebrated both my birthday and that of the dead poet.  Poe has become a symbol of in my life representing my decision to become a teacher.  It was an emotional visit to the Poe home where the poet and writer lived with his wife and his mother-in-law.  After we visited Poe’s grave, we headed towards his home at the west side of Baltimore.  As soon as we entered the town-homes-community where Poe’s home stood, we were greeted by decaying buildings, condemned homes, and vacant lots with piles of trash, stench, and some homes where we could clearly see that people vacated where held by extra bricks around the foundations.  We even came across homes that had milk crates replacing the area where stairs once stood at their entrances.  Most astonishing was the fact that people lived there!  They lived in homes that lacked warmth, structure, cleanliness, and most of all safety.  As we made our way towards the Poe home, I saw an African American young woman and two children head out of their home.  One after the other, all three jumped down from the entrance and hit the sidewalk.  When we walked closer we noticed why they had jumped.  The entrance did not have stairs and in their case, they had not been able to grab a milk crate to make a replacement.  My husband and I looked at each other in disbelief and we made our way to Poe’s home. 

     Visiting Poe’s home was not what I expected.  It had been a childhood dream to see where Poe lived and where his body rested.  But after seeing the conditions where his home stood, I became even more determined to get Obama elected.  I knew that this neighborhood was abandoned for many reasons, but it should take my visit to Poe’s home to see how much this neighborhood needs change.  I had expected to dry with amazement at the sight of Poe’s home, but my tears were held back with worry about what would become of the families that lived in the area when the wickedness of winter attacks.   

     Upon my visit to Baltimore, I also sensed warmth by its people.  When we made our way to the Main Market, we saw a people loving life even though they were tired of working so much for so little.  We saw a determination to make life better, but I knew their resources where minimal.  A whisper of community was present, but it had been muted by the absence of hope.  Thanks to Obama, I pray that ‘hope’ will be embedded in the everyday lives of the wonderful people we meet at that Market and that a new sense of ownership will evolve.  I hope this story helps the community where Edgar Allan Poe’s home lies and that its people get the resources they need to better their community.                   

     When Barack Obama first mentioned he was running for president of The Untied States of America, I saw a change among my Ninth Grade African American students.  I began to see a sparkle of hope in their eyes.  I noticed that the majority of my Black students had a determined look in their eye, and many informed me that if Barack Obama became our 44^TH president, that they would finally believe that they too can be president someday.  I am proud that Barack Obama has become a symbol of hope and dreams, and he has also transformed the beliefs and attitudes of not only our African American population on campus, but so many others from different racial backgrounds.

     Barack Obama may not know this yet, but he has changed my students.  Some are still skeptical because of what they hear at home.  But teaching in the middle of Central Florida, many of my young students who come from Republican homes asked questions about Obama.  They were curious about him and whether he was a symbol to African Americans as Martin Luther King.  Some questions where about issues they heard at home.  For example, “Isn’t Obama a Muslim?”  “Isn’t Obama an Arab?”  “Why doesn’t Obama swear on the bible but on the Koran?”  I answered their questions and in the end I was reprimanded for “talking politics.”  However, I felt it my duty to make sure my students knew the truth.  Our school became election addicted.  Much of the attitudes had to do with the racial divides that tear us apart, and the rest has to do with the district’s censorship of the election itself.  I believe that teachable moments were so crucial during this election—especially in our school with such racial tensions between blacks and whites.  In a school where students so freely display the Confederate Flag on their clothing, I wasn’t shocked to see that we were muted on sharing the biographies of both Obama and McCain.  What amazing stories they both are indeed.

     Now, our students are even more divided than ever only because we failed to introduce the candidates.  Our students are confused and angry that they are not allowed to speak about Obama or the election on campus.  Many teachers are angry that our next president’s name is banned from campus, but yet the Dixie Flag has never been an insult to anyone.  Our school is even more divided because teachers were not given the respect and the freedom to teach tolerance and the historical aspects of the election.  We were not given the respect or the credit to implement in our lessons reading strategies, government policies, and economical perspectives based on the issues argued during the campaign.  Again, our profession is not respected and our students deserve better.

     As educators, we need the respect and freedom to teach our students tolerance and respect, and my school failed to do just that.  As teachers, we need to make sure that our students understand the historical aspect of this election and what our next president will do to restore the flawed education system.  We first need to clean house and get rid of teachers who still view race as a problem and not a solution to the divides in our schools.  We need to make sure that teachers are measured by the growth of their students, not by the assessments of standardized tests.  Barack Obama will listen to us and I am positive that he will make sure we are respected and appreciated all year round.

     I am optimistic about our future, and for the first time in eight years, I can truly believe that America will come up for air.  We have been drowning for so long that our breathing capacity has been suppressed, but now we can begin the catch our breath and slowly begin to repair all that was broken.  I can finally hope that our communities will be guided and begin to reorganize for the sake of our future, I can hope that my job as an educator will become a respected field not just with higher pay, but with a higher trust.  I can finally hope that our Government will not be something we are skeptical about, but it will become a representation of our beliefs and our dreams inspired by the leadership of our Forty Fourth President Barack Obama.

The American Dream

I wasn’t born in The United States of America, but I am an American.  I divorced my birthplace and became a child of The U.S.A in 1993.  My family moved to Miami, Florida in 1981 and we have since embraced the American dream.  My mother became a maid and she currently works a double shift as a maid.  My father began washing dishes at a hotel in Key Biscayne, Florida and he climbed his way up only to be given the pink slip four years ago.  My parents put my brother and I through college with sweat and strength, and I am grateful.  All four of us decided to learn the language just to become Americans.  We have worked tirelessly to live the American dream and yet we are all struggling to make ends meet now. 

My family is voting for change because this is not the America we dreamt of wile we lived in South America. we are voting for change because we want the best for our children.  We believe in the American people to stick to that dream that so many of us have chased since our shores were greeted by migrants.

Yes we can change and make this country the envy of the entire world! Vote and positively change our future!

The American Promise

 

Two days left until we reach change!

The Damned Animal

 

     In the course of my young life, I have learned a valuable lesson from the people I have come to know.  This lesson has been the creed of my existence and it will be a part of the foundation instilled in my daughter’s education—to tolerate.  Tolerance is such a simple word to speak yet for so many it is such a difficult word to perform.  According to Merriam Webster’s Dictionary, tolerance is sympathy or indulgence for beliefs or practices differing from or conflicting with one’s own.  But for centuries we have witnessed a lack of sympathy in our country that can so easily be cured with a hopeful heart.  It is that hope that keeps us breathing.  The hope that our children, as Martin Luther King once said, “will sit together in the table of brotherhood,” without preconditions, without convictions, and free of judgment. 

     Mark Twain once wrote, *“In the course of my experiments I convinced myself that among the animals man is the only one that harbors insults and injuries, broods over them, waits till a chance offers, then takes revenge.  The passion of revenge is unknown to the higher animals.”  The more I experience life, the more I see this statement as a fact of a human condition.  I would like to believe this to be a learned trait, but I believe that a human being is capable of breaking away from negative ideals learned within a family or a culture.  As a member of this category via family values, I chose to depart from the apathetic indulgence in my household. 

     I could not and would not agree to turn my back on my African-America friends.  I could not and would not turn my back on my cousin who happened to be gay.  Therefore, I refused to inflict my loved ones with the intolerance and hatred shown by so many of my family members and our community.  As a teenager, I decided that I would become a member of the tolerant group.  I would never look down at anyone and judge them based on their gender, race, age, and sexual orientation.  I would tolerate.

     I have snapshots from my childhood of my parents either deliberately or unconsciously rolling up the car windows when ever a black person was spotted near by.  I can still hear my father make fun of the black race by saying, “What is the difference between a monkey and a black man? The monkey is smatter.”  Whenever we watched the news on television and there happen to be a story on a black suspect caught by the police, my mother would say, “It had to be a ‘nigger.’”  As a child, I didn’t know any better and I would repeat these words to my friends and hurt many feeling along the way.  I was taught to say these things at home, and I didn’t know how hurtful they were until I reached high school.

     I was a talented teen.  I was in choir and I was a member of the Thespian Troop in High School.  A diverse school, Braddock was built and completed in 1990, and I became a member of its first graduating class of 1992.  The majority of the student population was Hispanic, but there were pockets of a variety of cultures embedded within our campus. 

     In the tenth grade, my very first partner in my drama class happened to be African-American and we grew very close until he moved away our senior year in high school.  His name was Patrick and I remember him as a buoyant individual with an educational curiosity.  He asked me questions about my Hispanic culture, and I asked him questions about his African-American heritage.  His ancestors were slaves removed from their land,

separated and sold to different plantation owners.  His last name, Smith, was passed down from the slave owners.  He told me the story of his great, great, great grandmother and how she suffered to see her children sold.  She was stripped from her own identity and became an American slave against her will.  She remarried, had a child, and when slavery ended, her husband was tortured and killed by the Ku Klux Klan (KKK).  He showed me a black and white picture that was salvaged by his family; his great, great, great, grandmother wore a long bright dress, her five year old child barefoot and thin, big round eyes, leaned against his mother.  All I imagined as I looked at picture was the hardship that these two had faced and what more they had to endure.          

     One day, we decided to go to the movies on a date.  We had grown much closer and we decided to become more than friends.  We gave each other a kiss as the movie commenced, and soon after, a kid from our school interrupts our viewing with a question, “What are you doing with this nigger?”  Patrick ignored him, but I didn’t.  I stood up to give him a piece of my mind but Patrick pulled me down and said, “Leave it alone.  I’ve heard that before.”  The bully walked away and I never saw him again.  I couldn’t help but think that he had learned to speak that way at home.  However, I also knew that, like me, he had the control on whether he would break away from that entity.  He had the power to become a member of the tolerant group, but he chose not to.  He chose intolerance.

     When I was ten, my two cousins and I spent a lot of time together.  The best times I can recall were the moments we spent at the beach.  My cousin Karen was the same age as me, and Connie was two years younger.  We had a blast every summer when our families had family picnics and celebrations at Crandon Park in Key Biscayne, Florida.  Not only did we enjoy the beach waters, but we also enjoyed the great cooking.  We truly had great times.

     My cousin Connie was different from Karen.  Connie never played with dolls, she never cared to play with other girls, she hated dresses, and she couldn’t stand to have long hair.  She never called herself a girl, and we made fun of her by calling her Cornie the boy.  We knew that she was different, but it was never revealed until we later became adults that my cousin, Karen’s sister, was born gay.  I can never recall a moment when Connie said, “I think I will be gay for the rest of my life!”  I have known Connie to be the same person ever since I saw her for the first time when I was six years of age.  She was a boy trapped in a girl’s body.  When I became an adult, I decided not to judge Connie or the gay community, because I had witnessed with my own eyes that Homosexuality was not a choice for my cousin.  You must walk in someone else’s shoes in order to understand what they are all about.  I decided to tolerate homosexuality and leave the judging to god.

     When Connie was about eighteen, she confessed to her parents that she was gay.  Their response was violent and unacceptable.  Her father beat her and her mother turned the other way.  Connie was forced out of her home, but she bettered her life by earning a degree from college.  She moved away from her parents only to have them move near her later in her life because they missed their daughter.  Her sister however, who had become a Mormon, tried to pray the homosexuality out of Connie.  This of course, became a continuing event that caused my cousin to separate ties with her only sister Karen.  This separation caused me to think about the number of “Connies” who face this issue everyday only because so many are quick to judge and have no intention to tolerate. 

     I find it hard to believe that people wake up one morning and say, “I think I will be gay from now on.  I don’t care if all of society mocks homosexuality and sometimes gay people are murdered due to disapproval.  I know I can die, but I will always be gay from now on.”  The story of Mathew Shepard is carved in my heart for ever.  Some individuals may say, “Where do we draw a line if we begin to tolerate homosexuals?”  I say, remember when white supremacists said, “If we give the Niggers freedom, they are going to wanna work, own land and marry our women!”  No where in the constitution does it say that we are allowed to keep individuals from reaching happiness.  Off course, we have to adhere to the law and make sure we are all productive members of society, but who are we to keep others from reaching their own happiness.

     We cannot thrive as humans if we are not able to live in harmony.  We will be extinct from the earth if we do not learn to respect everyone’s god-given right to pursue happiness.  It is our duty as humans, to become the highest animal and allow the rest of the animal kingdom to view our species with admiration.  If we cannot tolerate and live in harmony our race will perish and leave no man behind.  All human beings will become a damned animal if we refuse to tolerate and coexist.  

   

 

* Letters from the Earth: The Damned Human Race by Mark Twain