Our community of difference

[hypotenuse]

Reading Bridgette's wonderful article submitted to the EasilyAddicted portion of our board has given us an idea for a series of articles.

So many of us would like to increase awareness of the bounty in difference. We all have our own unique perspectives through differences in culture, religion, and upbringing. We would like to showcase this knowledge in response to the bigotry and intolerence which seems to be the result of the terrorism in NYC and DC.

What unique perspective do you bring through your culture or religion that you would like to teach others? How has this insane situation affected you in ways that are both alike and different because of your uniqueness?

If you would like submit an article, let us know. Leave a post here, or send me a PM or email.

Thanks!

Lynne

[Trawma]

Hi, Lynne. Long time.

Submissions? For what? I have a story.

I spent all of Tuesday in chat--17 hours straight. Trying to find friends who live and/or work in Manhattan, supporting friends, watching MSNBC, having the wind knocked out of me each and every time they showed that terrible, horrifying video. You know the one. One friend, who worked in tower one, was unreachable for over 9 hours, and I was terrified, sure of the worst. Then she contacted me--she'd had to walk 12 miles to get home. Across the bridge and away in that mad rush of refugees. Another friend is still missing. We both know he's dead. And yet another friend was on Flight 11. He won't ever come home. He leaves a wife pregnant with their first child.

I finally took a break on Wednesday morning--tried to sleep, but was unable. Took Sean out front to play because, dammit, I just couldn't take another second of news, of those images. Sitting on the grass, Sean on the walk, hassling a potato bug. Then he says, "Uh oh!" And I knew. He came over, distraught, saying, "Mommy, fix it a potato bug!" He pulled me over and, sure enough, that ol' bug was smashed flat. I said, "Sweetheart, it's broken--mommy can't fix it." He became insistent--"Mommy, fix it a potato bug PLEASE!" I told him, "Sean, honey, it's dead. You can't fix something once it's dead." And he got it. Lynne, he got it. Three years old, and he was grief-stricken. Sat down hard, began to cry, saying, "Sorry, potato bug! I'm sorry!"

And I lost it. Sitting on the lawn, Sean in my arms, sobbing. Not over a potato bug, you know that. Over little boys who grow from crying over potato bugs to slamming fuel laden passenger jets into human laden sky scrapers. Over husbands and wives who will never be together again, over children who lost parents and parents who lost children.

I am broken. I am devastated. And I'm here for one reason--my battle to keep from retreating, from completely withdrawing. And now I see Pakistani restaurants burned to the ground, mosques attacked, Arab-American children taunted and tortured, I hear the call for blood, and I realize that we may be no better than those who did this. And my heart is broken.

Kris

[Redlass]

{{{{Kris}}}}

You deserve more eloquent words than just a hug, but I haven't them to offer.

Oh, if we could only stay three years old.

I agree with Bridgette.

Hugs to you Kris. I wish there were something more I could do for you than extending my sympathies and prayers.

[ThePirateKing]

Well done, Kris.

There's another forum where I post occasionally--the participants are all major jokers, and this past week has struck them dumb with horror and sadness.

One of the regular posters summed up what I think a lot of people are feeling right now:

I question whether there is a god, and why, if he's so damned powerful, why does he let things like this happen? The clergy gives us some padded answers. Have faith, they say. But how can you have faith when such evil is allowed to wreak havoc?

It made my heart ache. I can't imagine the full measure of what he must be going through, how he is hurting, because I wasn't there and I didn't experience it. From the viewpoint of my faith--that of a god who suffered through all things for our salvation, and is thus a being capable of perfect empathy and love--it was also difficult to see someone in so much pain and grief, turning away from a profound source of solace.

I believe God loves all of us individually with an intensity we can scarcely imagine, and that He desires our happiness. But I also believe an essential part of our existence here is the gift of free will, to be used or abused as we see fit. Yes, God had the power to stop the hijackers from carrying out their plan--but to do so He would have had to thwart their free will, and so doing, destroy everyone's ability to choose.

For the most part, God works through our actions, if we are willing to allow Him to do so. After the attack, the immediate outpouring of love and sympathy and the desire to help that came from nearly every corner of the globe was, to me anyway, a palpable expression not only of the basic decency of most people, but of the love of God for humanity.

[Trawma]

Thank you. Spent all day yesterday on the AP wire and following various news stories on bio and chemical warfare. While I hate the idea of hiding my head in the sand, it may be time for me to do just that--if you know me, you'll know just how great a concession that is. I am an information junkie, but there is just too much information out there for me to process. It's already been an awful month (hubby's best friend died, then another friend's 5 month old son died, then hubby's ex-girlfriend and her mother were murdered, all in the space of 2 weeks), and Tuesday has become, for me, a clear message that things can always get much, much worse.

I don't know what I'm going to do now. I've been working on a screenplay, but can't seem to find it in myself to write now. I open it a few times a day, stare at it, then close it up again. So much for that Oscar, huh?

I hate whining. And it's what I'm doing right now. WAH. Totally unfair of me to come here to do it. But I'm tired of faking it. Tired of being the cheerful one with the hopeful words. I have no hope right now. Thank you for not telling me to shut up and go home.

Kris

[Redlass]

Whine away, Kris. The beauty of boards is that if someone is unable to listen right now (for we all grieve in so many different ways), they can always choose to read elsewhere.

But there are lots of us who are glad you're posting because you are expressing so many of the feelings that we have--or giving us windows into ways that others are feeling that we had no idea of.

I'm sorry, I'm not being very coherent at the moment.

I'm sorry you're having so much pain.

[Flamepillar]

Dearest Kris, your posts here have shown such beauty beyond words, the beauty of the heart and its want to help.

I know what you mean about sticking your head in the sand, not wanting to. I think a lot of people feel that no one else deserves to suffer and when we hear about someone else suffering, our first thought is "Why did it happen to them and not me?" Given the option, you would take their place in a second. That kind of selfless empathy is hard to find in people nowadays. It hurts like hell, but it makes you so beautiful.

The story with your son and the "potato bug" reminds me of a scene from "Short Circuit"; if you haven't seen it, it is a great reminder of just how beautiful life can be, no matter what form it takes.

[hypotenuse]

Hey Kris!

{{{YOU}}}

Sorry I've been so backward about responding. Working without an internet connection on my puter right now and so everything's hit and miss.

Everyone,

I will get this organized. Just give me a little bit longer. Sorry about the inconvenience but this is beyond my control right now.

Lynne

[jo.com]

I would like to share something I wrote to an e-mail loop in which I have been involved for 4 years (Parents of Colleged Aged Kids)

I have to share with you all some thoughts from the perspective of a true
60's kid. I demonstrated against the war in Viet Nam..I mean I went to
Washington, I staged sit ins, etc. etc. I never burned our flag but I never
thought it wrong. I was a left wing radical. I never said the Pledge of
Allegience and had good reasons not to (separation of church and state,
there isn't true liberty and freedom for all - women are paid less than men,
etc. etc. etc. ). (I had written a piece on this subject on Themestream as a matter of fact - this sentence to my epinions friends). The thought of hanging a flag or singing G-d Bless America
was apalling to me. Now you might say, "Love it or leave it." It wasn't a
matter of not thinking our country was a great one or that there were
better. It is complicated and I have tried to sum up some of where I have
been mentally, philosophically, for the last 30 years. I certainly never
supported military action overseas for any war we engaged in.

On Sept. 13 I subbed for a teacher who had to leave because his son was in
the WTC and was missing. I had subbed all last year and never said the
Pledge. So on Thursday when it came over the loud speaker I did. I have been
to vigils and proudly sang songs. I bought a military march cd yesterday in
Borders. I am wearing a flag pin and we have a flag hanging on our house.

I support military action, but am so thankful I do not have children who
could die. I don't think I could live through my child or children dying. I
am so sorry if innocent people (just like people in the WTC) have to die
but this time we can't look the other way. I have said in the past that much
of our military intervention has been to protect others. This is to protect
us and our children. I am an adamant Democrat. I won't even vote for a
Republican if that person has good views (There was a case of, I think, a
state Senator, a Republican woman. She was terrific but my hand just
wouldn't make the X). I will always be a Democrat. I wish Gore or Clinton
were in office right now. But when I saw Bush on TV, I was proud that we had
a President; that we sort of voted him in and that, as he said, we could
speak out in this country. I was proud of the US and that will never go
away. It took me many years and this horrible act to get me here. I wish it
hadn't happened. I would rather have gone through life not saying the
Pledge. I heard someone on the radio say, "Those who burned the flag are now
hanging it." It is true, because as I said, though I never burned it, I was
one of them. jo