“Someone’s drawing conclusions
On the wall of destiny
Someone’s getting louder
And that someone is me.”-
Melissa Etheridge.
I did not grow up, planning to be loud. Never thought I would have any influence on anyone else, and I still don’t know if I do. Nevertheless, life happens, regardless of our best intentions. Someone asked me, a few days ago, why I write this blog, why it has turned out so political. That set me to thinking, and some of those thoughts, I would like to share with you now.
.
I grew up in a small town. I mean a very small town; there were 14 children in my first grade class and the same 14 in my ninth grade class. The town consisted of white, conservative, “Christian” Americans. There was a Baptist Church, a Catholic Church, and a Methodist Church. Everybody knew who went to church, and who went to each church. Those who did not go to church, well, they were unsaved. And you know, those who are unsaved, well, they go to hell.
My best friend died of the effects of Agent Orange, way too young. His family was probably the least affluent in the town; but he was the only person I knew who could ride a 10-speed bicycle through the town while reading a book. (Seriously, he did, and often.) Ok, so we did not have a lot of traffic!
My father was a bigot, he did not like (insert your slang terms here); those of different cultures or races. And boy, he knew all the slang terms. I will not insult all of those people by listing the names he called them. Better dead than Red, when we were watching the news and the talk turned to the “conflict” in Southeast Asia. My mother, in typical fashion of the day, agreed with him. Dad, however, walked out when times got hard; from him, I learned that a real man does not run from his problems. One saving grace I had was my grandmother, who tried subtly to convince me that there was no reason to hate people because of their skin, or religion, or their ideas. Surprisingly, grandmother was more liberal than my parents ever thought about being; however, she was very strict about education. And I do mean strict! You did not bring home a bad report card, and you never addressed an adult by their first name. And, she was Grandmother, not any other term. Unless you were talking about President Franklin Roosevelt, you did not swear (long story there).
High school-500+ students- as opposed to the 14 I knew; racial unrest, Vietnam and the draft, rock and roll, drugs, the pill. What is that saying, if you remember the sixties, you weren’t really there? Life changed for this boy from the sticks. It changed, big time. And, I changed, slowly, with those times. Without really thinking about it, I became political. In retrospect, it started with Vietnam, when I, and a lot of other people, realized the President could send us to die, but we couldn’t vote for or against him. The only brush I had with the law was when I decided to sit down. I learned that you and your friends don’t sit down on the street where the President is going to be, when he visits the newest group of flyboy graduates at the Air Force Academy. I have voted, and worked for candidates, in every election since then; I am proud of that fact, and I do not intend to stop.
So, now I am 60, an “old man” according to my grandchildren. I’m willing to put my experience up against any young whippersnapper that comes along. But, that experience has come with a very high price tag; a price that includes standing up for what is right, for what I think is proper, regardless of the popular opinion.
When I create an article, I do research; I look for hard data to back up my thoughts. I have, at times, had my opinion changed by the facts. But, that is result of study, of research, and I welcome that change, that education.
And, I hope that is the same for you. I hope, by creating this blog, by putting my ideas out to you, I can encourage in you a desire to find out the truth, regardless of the sound bites. I hope you will be willing to enter into an honest discussion, to think beyond the right now, to think what is good for the future, for you and I.
Grandmother always had Reader’s Digest, Arizona, Time, Newsweek, U.S. News and World Report, and Family Circle on her coffee table. She would often tell me there was an interesting article in one or the other magazine, ask me to read it and then discuss. She never discounted my opinion, but was more than willing to offer her viewpoint. And, my readers, I ask you to do the same. Read what I post, comment, offer your opinion, and discuss the issues I raise. If you have an issue in mind that you would like me to research and discuss, just drop me an email at robertmhartman29@gmail.com and I will look into it.
Thanks for reading! To leave a comment, simply click on the "comment" below.
No comments:
Post a Comment