Monthly Archives: April 2014

Every Now and Then I Get on My Soapbox


Had one of those random thoughts early this morning: create a video of the atrocities the  US has done to the people in the past 200 years. Don’t identify that it is our government, and present it as a call to action. I’m sure this has been done…

but maybe this time ‘we’ will stand up and say OMG, we need to punish them for these crimes. (after all we punished Hitler, et. al.)

But how do we punish our own government without further destruction of the system? Would it make a difference, really?  Found this article. It’s violent and disturbing, so if you are sensitive, consider yourself warned: 12 Atrocities Ignored

Everyday I read or hear about something we have done to other cultures. Every day I hear about what ‘we’ are doing to stop the same crimes happening in other countries but we do nothing to stop them here.  What’s up with that?

Is the US so powerful that they are exempt from punishment. Are the select few so important that they get away with the murder of entire cultures and belief systems? 

A powerful story that touches on a small piece of the Native American story. So many stories and too many to share here. Why is our government so afraid  the Native Americans?  Why do they keep people like Leonard Peltier locked up and the free others who rape and kill little children.


What Have I Done?

Then there are the crimes we committed to the people during WWII, Vietnam, Korea, and Desert Storm. Not only did we kill or torture people, we asked our own soldiers to commit these crimes.  What about the Vets who were on special assignments and there is no record. No record = no benefits/help. 

I could go on but I’m getting really mad. Mad at myself for spending all these years as an ostrich. For ignoring what has been going on around me and doing nothing.

There is so much to learn about the system and how to work it. It may be too late for me, but it’s not too late for the next generation. What I can do is get the soapbox out a little more often and maybe, just maybe share a story that may spark a fire.


Baggy Grey Pants


Wandering down the hall not really looking at much more than my feet there are the baggy grey pants dragging on the floor and the memory of an old woman. She was 60 something and getting ready for bed; head hanging low. Her hair gray now and a once beautiful smile now a permanent frown.

What happened to all the years? She was happy once. Married with children and dreaming of grand kids dancing and tugging on her apron.

Sad lonely pensive old senior womanThere was a time when her life was like mine. Fresh, challenging and ever-changing, and weekends filled with celebrations. While he used to beat her, she never let the kids know. She never cried when anyone was around. Her steps slowed. She took her time with everything she did. It seemed that she wanted to be sure everything was perfect. No errors, no room for criticism. He used to slap the kids. He used to call her by names not hers. But the table was set at 6pm every night.

What happened to those years growing up? Playing war games in the fields, building forts and chewing sugar cane?

Wandering down the hall getting ready for bed, I looked down and saw the old woman walking slowly and I wondered for a moment when I became just like her.