Independence Day/Repentance Day
There can never be peace between nations until there is first known that true peace which is within the souls of men.
~ Black Elk
Is it a happy Fourth of July?
This morning on NPR, Lulu Garcia-Navarro asked Iraqi poet Sinan Antoon his reaction to the death of Donald Rumsfeld. He said, “I think of hell. [He’s] in a special place in hell for war criminals.” The interview went on to describe the horrible outcome of U. S. involvement in the Iraqi War.
I read Caste by Isabel Wilkerson. It took me a month to finish it. The information was so disturbing I had to take breaks to ponder the calculated cruelty and purposeful systematic degradation of Black Americans. It’s a miracle anyone survived, and yet some thrived. Nazi Germany took a crash course from the United States. They gleaned proven techniques to use against the Jewish population turning them into national scapegoats who needed to be annihilated.
Lest we forget, the United States government robbed American Indian tribes of their land, their livelihood, their culture, and their children. Wounded Knee by Heather Cox Richardson describes the political context in which hundreds of unarmed Lakota Sioux were slaughtered. These are familiar partisan politics that are alive and well over a century later.
Women, children, babies on cradleboards, and helpless old men were mowed down by the U. S. Army and their bodies dumped in a deep pit. The cavalry slogan was: “The only good Indian is a dead one.”
Footnote. Years ago, I took my three elementary aged children to visit this mass grave. Wounded Knee Massacre Monument is sad. It was not a popular field trip. The kids sat in the car. They pouted in the sultry afternoon heat while I toured the sacred space with a random group of nuns. This was one of two moments in my life where I was engulfed with sorrow. I swear the energy of the horrific events that took place on that site radiated from deep in the earth.
The list of atrocities that happened are endless… It appears that we, as a country, have learned nothing.
How does a governing body entice citizens to go along with brutal policies that continue to keep the disenfranchised at the lowest end of our own special version of the caste system? (Voter suppression legislation is an example of a recent event of this system of government.)
The answer: Fear. People who live in fear are easy to control. Thanks to the help of FOX Entertainment Group there is plenty of fear to go around.
Former president Donald Trump was a master fear-monger. One of his best (or worst) examples was to promote the idea that drug dealers, criminals, and rapists were sneaking into the U.S. from Mexico by the thousands. That is how we ended up with that god-awful wall.
Even though IQ 45 is no longer holding the highest office in the land, there are plenty of elected officials spreading fear. Once again, partisan politicians are covering their own tracks with diversion tactics. One stellar case is that of Matt Gaetz, an accused pedophile and sex trafficker.
Where have I been?
As a white person, who grew up in South Dakota and Nebraska. I saw and heard plenty of ‘Indian slogan’s’ in my Catholic community. The indigenous people of the Plains suffered enormous losses — probably more than other tribes because they were nomads and didn’t have farming or building skills on which to stake claims. The Lakota (and others) depended solely on buffalo for everything, and we know happened to them. A systemic process of extermination. The theory was, first the buffalo, and then the Indians.
As a white person from the mainland who lived and worked in the public school system on Maui, I was the trifecta (Caucasian, mainlander, teacher)of what those students didn’t like or trust. With good reason. The Hawaiian Islands were basically stolen from Queen Liliuokalani. She was put under house arrest and charged with treason. She fought bitterly against annexation. Her mantra: “Hawaii for Hawaiians.” Some people have not forgotten the U. S. took over the islands with the assistance of rich, white, missionary descendants.
Now I am a liberal white person living in Tucson where I see packs of old white dudes in monster trucks cruising up and down Oracle Road. From the back of the truck beds, U. S. flags are flying, along with others: Trump 2020. Don’t Tread on Me. Thin Blue Line. Something with a black skull and crossbones. (A pirate flag?) Their mission seems to be to surround and intimidate. Is this legal? Or necessary?
Last fall, I taught a lesson on the right to vote. One of my fifth graders raised her hand and asked, “Do I need papers to vote?”
“Yes, you need papers, and in order to get them you must be able to read and understand.”
This is one small example of daily exclusion in a border community. It’s all about the damn papers.
History cannot be erased. I’m not sure how to repent for terrible deeds that have been done in the name of democracy, freedom, and the good of the nation, under God.
How can I do better?
First, I commit to being aware that there are differences between myself and others. I will not ignore these differences but accept them as part of being human. Except for old white dudes. Barely human.
My friends are very much like me. Not because I don’t want diverse friends, they just aren’t part of my social circle, workplace, or acquaintances. I guess the saying, “Birds of a feather, flock together,” applies.
In the future, I will seek out friendships from people who are not like me. I will focus on what we have in common. Except for old white dudes. Nothing in common.
I will recognize that I have an unconscious bias toward certain groups of people. (Oh shit! I might be biased against old white dudes.)
From now on when I come across examples of unconscious bias, I will speak out against them. This will set the bar for myself and those around me. Including old white dudes.
(Not the flag flying, monster truck driving, crazed Trump supporters.)
Happy Fourth of July!
Make it so.
