Lots of people on the right of the political spectrum are up in arms these days. They're angry, and they're not going to take it anymore. Take what? I'm not really sure, but boy are they pissed off.
So am I. I'm pissed off that so many Americans choose hate over hope. I'm pissed off that the likes of Limbaugh, Hannity, Beck, and Palin are laughing all the way to the bank. They've stirred up a hornets' nest of negativity, of deep-seated fear and hatred. They've made a lot of people believe wholeheartedly that the current economic situation is all President Obama's fault. Never mind that he's been in office 9 months (compared to Bush/Cheney and the GOP-run congress being in power for 8 years). Never mind that much of the increase in the national debt in the last year comes from simply allowing the Iraq and Afghanistan war costs to be 'counted' in the total. And never mind that the increased debt also reflects an enormous stimulus package that has slowly but surely brought us out of a recession.
Never mind all that.
What pisses me off the most is the fear. The loathing. The spreading of half-truths and flat-out lies. You know what, right-wingers? You lost. Yes, you. You couldn't get your shit together, and the Dems beat you. More to the point, people who choose to be hopeful rather than be hateful beat you. Deal with it. Work with them to get something done instead of bitching and complaining that the country's going to hell in a handbasket.
I'm also afraid. Not that our government is turning communist or taking too much of our money, but I'm afraid of the growing national paranoia. I'm afraid of a world that is so full of hate that it becomes blind to common sense. A world that is so angry that my children will have to combat against it with a very conscious effort to be level-headed and hopeful. Such things shouldn't have to be so difficult.
Some will say that hope is naive. I disagree, if that hope is tempered with knowledge, perspective, and humility. Even if there is some naivite inherent in hopefulness, I'd rather be hopeful than hateful, and I will raise my children to fight hate and intolerance. I will raise them to fight impudence and bullying. I will raise them to meet their problems head on with viable and well-considered solutions. I will raise them to read, research, and respect the immense amount of information surrounding them. I will raise them to take the time to think, and then to reach their own conclusions, not those of a specific political party and certainly not those posited by some entertainer spewing the vicious and empty religion of hate.
Is President Obama perfect? Of course not. And contrary to what conservative hate-mongers might say, he loves his country and has accomplished a great deal during his first months as President (see the St. Peterberg's Times Truth-O-Meter). There is certainly much more to do, and he has failures, too, like anyone. I challenge you to visit the site and to see for yourself just what he's done, from protecting consumers to toughening aid requirements for Pakiston. He's increased government transparency, making presidential records public. He's increased funding for environmental protections. He's encouraged private-sector involvement in space research.
The list goes on, and again I encourage you to read it. An open mind and a hopeful heart are good things, friends.
As for turning our country 'communist', ask yourselves (not Sean Hannity) how you feel about veterans' care, municipal police forces, medicare, highway departments, and a military paid for with tax dollars. Are these examples of socialism? Sounds pretty damn socialized to me. We're already there, folks. That's what taxation is all about. Don't want to pay taxes? Want to live in an apocolypse where people hide out in their homes, stockpiled with guns and liquor while any form of centralized health care, town maintenance, power supply, and legal system disappear?
I didn't think so.
Fight the hate.
G
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Rainy Day Fun: Making a Tent
Winter has come to Northern New York. At least it feels that way. In a way, it seems that we've skipped right from the showers of April to the miserable drizzle of September, and summer got lost somewhere in between.
It has been, and will be for the next week, rainy, mid-50's, and windy. Gray, damp, chilly. Yuk.
The kids have been wearing rain boots, winter hats, and fuzzy gloves already.
One thing they like to do when cooped up inside for days on end is setting up a tent. In the living room. Right in front of the TV. Of course.
My boy has had his tent set up for the last few days. He's filled it with pillows, toys, and even a waste basket. It reminds me of playing as a boy in a tent set up in the back corner of our family room, bringing in a small radio, a notebook, and pens. I loved the safety and warmth I felt in there.
So, our living room is a mess (so is the kitchen table and the playroom). We're down to two chairs in the kitchen. But it doesn't matter. It's raining outside.
G
It has been, and will be for the next week, rainy, mid-50's, and windy. Gray, damp, chilly. Yuk.
The kids have been wearing rain boots, winter hats, and fuzzy gloves already.
One thing they like to do when cooped up inside for days on end is setting up a tent. In the living room. Right in front of the TV. Of course.
My boy has had his tent set up for the last few days. He's filled it with pillows, toys, and even a waste basket. It reminds me of playing as a boy in a tent set up in the back corner of our family room, bringing in a small radio, a notebook, and pens. I loved the safety and warmth I felt in there.
So, our living room is a mess (so is the kitchen table and the playroom). We're down to two chairs in the kitchen. But it doesn't matter. It's raining outside.
G
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Baby Steps
B-boy is shy. Wicked shy. With most new people, he hides behind my legs and refuses to look at them. "I don't want anybody to see me," he whispers.
I get it. I was the same way. In some ways, I'm still like that. I can deal with it, but I don't enjoy being in groups or being the center of attention. I feel uncomfortable walking into a room, facing a bunch of people, whether they're strangers or not.
S-girl was the same way, too. Then, around 4 1/2, something 'clicked' and she got over it. By 5, she was ready to hop on the school bus without any tears.
Well, this month, in an attempt to get B-boy more comfortable around other kids, I signed him up for two classes: gymnastics and art. They're an hour each, just one day a week. We drive 40 minutes, go to class, then grab some lunch and head home. Five minutes into the first class, I was ready to apologize profusely, give him a great, big hug, and take him home. But I knew that wouldn't do either of us any good.
Week 1:
B-boy carried his bear and blanket with him. He sobbed and sobbed as the teacher led him through some tumbling exercises. Finally, he ended up on the bench with me, still crying.
Week 2:
Again, he insisted on having his bear and blanket, but this time, he didn't cry. He let the teacher take him on a tour of the room. Then he sat with me. Then he went on another walk. He didn't participate at all, but he never cried.
Week 3:
Art class started this week, and B-boy did great. I helped him with his turtle mosaic, he commented on another boy's Thomas the Train boots, and even helped pick up beads that had fallen on the floor. And he never once hid behind me. He wasn't happy about gymnastics class afterward, but he did better. He and I walked around, and he hopped on the beam and swung on the bar. Again, he wouldn't participate, but he didn't cry and we didn't bring the bear or the blanket. At the end, he actually let the teacher give him a hug.
Baby steps! (or, 'big boy' steps as he insisted I call them)
Along with these classes, I've been taking him regularly to a few libraries that host reading time. He's shy. He's not happy. He hides behind me. But he's out there, and I'm already seeing a change, though small, in his attitude.
G
I get it. I was the same way. In some ways, I'm still like that. I can deal with it, but I don't enjoy being in groups or being the center of attention. I feel uncomfortable walking into a room, facing a bunch of people, whether they're strangers or not.
S-girl was the same way, too. Then, around 4 1/2, something 'clicked' and she got over it. By 5, she was ready to hop on the school bus without any tears.
Well, this month, in an attempt to get B-boy more comfortable around other kids, I signed him up for two classes: gymnastics and art. They're an hour each, just one day a week. We drive 40 minutes, go to class, then grab some lunch and head home. Five minutes into the first class, I was ready to apologize profusely, give him a great, big hug, and take him home. But I knew that wouldn't do either of us any good.
Week 1:
B-boy carried his bear and blanket with him. He sobbed and sobbed as the teacher led him through some tumbling exercises. Finally, he ended up on the bench with me, still crying.
Week 2:
Again, he insisted on having his bear and blanket, but this time, he didn't cry. He let the teacher take him on a tour of the room. Then he sat with me. Then he went on another walk. He didn't participate at all, but he never cried.
Week 3:
Art class started this week, and B-boy did great. I helped him with his turtle mosaic, he commented on another boy's Thomas the Train boots, and even helped pick up beads that had fallen on the floor. And he never once hid behind me. He wasn't happy about gymnastics class afterward, but he did better. He and I walked around, and he hopped on the beam and swung on the bar. Again, he wouldn't participate, but he didn't cry and we didn't bring the bear or the blanket. At the end, he actually let the teacher give him a hug.
Baby steps! (or, 'big boy' steps as he insisted I call them)
Along with these classes, I've been taking him regularly to a few libraries that host reading time. He's shy. He's not happy. He hides behind me. But he's out there, and I'm already seeing a change, though small, in his attitude.
G
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