Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Let's Talk Socialism

Throughout the current health care debate, conservatives have thrown around one word like some terrible four letter expletive. That word is socialism. They use it to obfuscate and strike fear into the hearts of the ignorant masses, who give no real quantifiable thought to what they are hearing. With the debate over the current bill coming to a head in the senate it is important to understand exactly what congressional republicans, as well as external conservative sources like Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin (the real leaders of the republican party.) are saying.

So, let’s talk socialism. The primary image driving the socialism fright-fest is that of the totalitarian, Stalinist dictatorship, of a government takeover of everything from media outlets to grocery stores. This is completely erroneous. Socialism is at the same time remarkably simple and complex, it is public ownership or regulation of a certain thing for the benefit of the community, and is all around us every day. Yes, that’s right, look out, there is socialism right outside your door. America has lot’s of socialism, if you drove to work on a paved road today, that was socialism. If your kids go to public school, that’s socialism. If you listened to the radio, and heard one station per frequency rather than several overlapping signals, that’s socialism. The military, undeniably important to the right wing, so much so that they give it political precedence over things they probably shouldn’t, is the best example of socialism in the nation. It is a huge body, regulated by public oversight, and paid for with public money. Socialism is everywhere, and our nation wouldn’t function without it.

The really ironic thing is that as terrified as conservatives are of socialized healthcare, they don’t realize that we already have it. The problem, which the currently proposed healthcare reform bill is attempting to change, is that our social healthcare system is so inefficient and unwieldy that it threatens to collapse in on itself. If a person walks into a hospital requiring care, they will be treated regardless of whether they can pay, it is illegal to do otherwise. The treatment they are given may be substandard, and it will likely bankrupt them, but they will receive it none the less. However, the hospitals they visit are not charities and the cost of their care must go somewhere, so it is recouped by raising the cost of care for everyone else. Therefore, the cost of care for those with the inability to pay is transferred to those who can, the essence of socialism. What the public option proposes is not to create a government monopoly on health care or even create a system of socialized medicine, but to regulate the hideously bloated system that already exists, by creating a system where prices are lowered and costs offset not by tax revenue as so many people believe (only a small portion of the population will qualify for subsidies for the public plan), but by creating competition. So, if the right-wing is so afraid of “socialism” they should ask themselves, which is more socialist? A system which drives down cost by creating strong competition and leveraging prices, Or the status quo, a system which continues to drive prices skyward as those who can afford to pay are saddled with the costs of the increasing number of people who cannot.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

The Prayer of St. Francis

I found this prayer entirely by accident the other day. It pretty much rocked my world, it's one of the most incredible things I've seen in awhile.

The Prayer of St. Francis
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.
This isn't so much prayer as it is a lifestyle. A person could live their entire life trying to fulfill this prayer, and it would not be wasted.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Impossible Things

500,000 years ago, it was impossible to make fire. We froze in our caves and huts at night, and ate food raw. We didn’t know any better.

10,000 years ago, we couldn’t cultivate and control the plants that grew all around us. We picked what we could and then moved on. Always at the mercy of the season, we stayed in motion, struggling to survive. We didn’t know any better.

5,000 years ago, no one thought it would be possible to forge two weak metals together to make a stronger one. We toiled in back breaking labor limited by the brittle tools at our disposal. There was no other way, we didn’t know any better.

4,500 years ago, how far we could travel was limited by the strength of our feet and our physical endurance. What we could accomplish was limited to the resources of the land we called home. We just didn’t know anything else was possible.

1000 years ago, harnessing the power of the wind to travel great distances across seas and oceans was an unattainable dream. We captured men, forced them to row themselves to death to move ships only short distances across bodies of water at slow speeds. We didn’t know anything else was possible.

In the 1400’s, the world was flat. A disc in space at whose edges existed a great precipice, falling into the nothingness of the cosmos. Maps labeled uncharted waters with the ominous warning “here there be monsters.” Anything else was impossible.

In 1519 a man named Ferdinand could never sail his five ships all the way around the world. “You’re a fool Magellan!” they said. They didn’t know any better.

200 years ago, travel over land without beasts of burden was impossible. Who knew any different?

In 1902, we couldn’t fly, the idea that people could soar through the clouds like birds, was ludicrous. The dream of travelling great distances through the air was reserved for fools, and mad men. Everyone knew it was impossible.

In 1927 you couldn’t fly a plane across the Atlantic ocean, it was impossible. When a young air mail pilot from St. Louis said he would attempt just that, people couldn’t believe it. They didn’t know any better

In the 1962, it was impossible for men to walk on the face of the moon. One man and one nation chose to go anyway, not because it was easy, but because it was hard. The task was daunting, expensive and perilous. Accidents happened, men died, but amidst all the pain, embarrassment and loss, we pushed on. Many said we couldn’t do it. We knew better.

40 years later we’ve been there and back, sent space probes outside of the limits of our solar system, explored the surface of Mars with robots from 100 million miles away, and come together as nations to build a space station, in peace and cooperation. We’ve expanded the limits of human understanding more than anyone ever thought possible.

Many people say there is no more to learn, nowhere else to go, nothing left to understand. “It’s not worth it, spend the time and money on other things.” They say, “More worthwhile pursuits.” By now, I think we should know better.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

The Perception of Brad(A Reflection)

I've been thinking a lot lately about the enormous amount of energy I invest in how I am perceived my others. It's not so much self-consciousness as it is a sort of ideological narcissism. I feel that I'm very confident in who I am as a person. I have very specific stances on very specific things which are often at odds with most of the people around me. So I walk this fine line of expressing my deep seated beliefs and not offending the those around me. As a result, I foster these images of myself for others. I am a Christian, but most would be surprised to know this, not because I behave in a way that is not in fitting with Jesus' teaching, but because of another personal persona I've manufactured. That is, that I am a passionate progressive(a term I adopted to avoid calling myself "liberal" which I pretty clearly am.) I believe strongly in social-healthcare, the right for each person to define marriage in their own terms, That the American people we're mis-led about the wars in which we are currently involved and a slew of other things that popular conservative "Christianity" (yeah, that's right, I put it in qoutations) would consider "un-scriptural"(as if scripture could be read without instilling our own biases in what we read). I'm not party-line liberal though, I believe in the importance of the second amendment, the sanctity of human life, even that of the unborn.(although their are important systemic/societal problems that must be adressed before the idea of banning abortion should even be considered, but that's a discussion for another blog post) So I walk a political tight rope most of the time. The image of myself that I try to project in this case is toxic to my sense of self-satisfaction, I am a writer, a speaker and a teacher. Expression is a part of me, like oxygen for my soul. I MUST express myself, what I feel, what I think and what I believe.
In the same way, I try to present my self to people as easy going, relaxed, steady. Unfortunatly I feel that I often come across not as relaxed but apathetic. This is really contrary to who I am as a person. I REALLY care about people, their happiness, their humor. It is SO important to me as a person to bring joy to those around me, to help others relax and enjoy life which is, sadly, all too fleeting. I strive very hard not to be percieved as judgemental, which I really am. Judgment is my greatest weakness as a human being. I try so very hard not to judge, to shake off my initial impressions and wait for a broader picture to develop. Judgement is so contrary to who I am, or perhaps I should say, who I want to be. Thankfully to balance this I have the gift of my ability to forgive very quickly, and the learned skill of patience. It can be difficult to portray the qualities I want to while keeping my extrememly judgemental nature hidden from people.
As I said, I don't feel that I'm self-conciouss, I know I have a lot to offer people. I'm not, nor will I ever be particularly good looking. This doesn't bother me. I don't feel like this is a nessecary part of my identity. What is, however, is the fact that I am VERY smart. If a billigerent person decided to try to get under my skin by insulting my appearance I'd likely laugh, and join them in pointing out my least desirable attributes. But if that same person were to insinuate that I lacked intelligence, I would become defensive very quickly. So, naturally I true to encourage the perception that I'm a person of above average intelligence. The problem is that I really come off as an arrogant ass sometimes. This is not my intention, I'm not out to prove that I'm smarter than anyone else, not individuals anyway. It is only my intention to stand above the crowd a little bit in the minds of those I encounter. Don't read this the wrong day, I don't set out thinking "your going to show people how smart you are today" it's almost sub-conscious, I just do it. Most of the time I'm not trying to do it, and ironically it is during these times that people tend to take notice of my intelligence. It is when I actively try to impress, that I end up looking like a jack-ass.
The ways in which I attempt to perpetuate a certain perception of myself really do smack of narcissism. I don't know that it is nessecarily a bad thing in small doses. It is exactly our ability to consciously choose to follow the better angels of our nature over that which is easier and more seductive, such as my tendency to judge that makes us human. I also think it is OK to seek a certain amount of affirmation in the things that we find to be important aspects of our identity as long as we don't cross over into the dangerous territory of unhealthy pride. Yet, the one qaundery I still face is how to balance my political and spiritual beliefs, which to many people seem to be mutually exclusive, with the need, deep in my soul to share what I think and believe with others. This is will be I think, one of the most important and difficult internal struggles of my life.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Down a Slippery Slope: The Dangers of Censorship in America

The 20th century and the beginning of the 21st have been saturated by war; from the paperboy, shouting from the streets corners of cities across the country during the First World War, selling his stories of death and heartache from across an ocean, to live satellite images of battlefields in Iraq, and Afghanistan. In the hundred years since the invention of the radio, war has become an unavoidable aspect of American life. How is public perception of this constant war shaped? How do we discern truth, from falsehood? We have come to rely totally on journalism and the media to keep us informed of the violent goings on in the world. People have come to trust in the images they see and the reports they read. How trustworthy are these sources of information? How readily should we believe them? Through what filters has the information we receive already been passed? The sad truth is that governments and ruling powers having been censoring wars, and reports of wars since before the printing press. In the 20th century however it has become an art. Public relations spin-doctors spend lucrative careers on the payroll of the taxpayer; trying to convince the public to swallow whatever bitter medicine they have been hired to hock. However, it is not only the government and it’s agents who censor our perceptions of war. Other guilty culprits include, former statesmen, writers, religious leaders and sadly, even historians and educators. In Lies My Teacher Told Me, author James Loewen exposes many of the fallacies presented to students of history by textbooks and those who write them. He writes about the after-the-fact censorship with which the Vietnam War is often treated. He writes, “[In Vietnam] we evaluated our progress by body counts and drew free-fire zones in which the entire civilian population was treated as the enemy…any photograph of an American soldier setting fire to a Vietnamese house…would have gotten the point across, but no textbook shows such an act.”(250) Loewen makes the point, in the same chapter, that it has become unpatriotic to portray the American Government or its agencies in a negative light. This has become even truer after the events of September 11th, 2001 and the subsequent wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. In the last six to seven years, it has become cultural blasphemy to speak ill of the military or its members; they have been canonized in society to be an untouchable symbol of virtue and honor, attaining an almost saint like status. To insult the military and by proxy, the government that directs them, has become taboo.
As a result, the public accountability that was built into the Constitution via the First Amendment falls by the wayside. Journalist Laura Rozen writing in her article “Hung Out To dry.” laments this decline in accountability. She writes, “Perhaps nothing is more demoralizing, though, than the sense that journalism’s most groundbreaking investigations did not yield the kind of…reform that past eras have seen—that the system of democratic checks and balances, of which the press is only one part, is broken.”(34) Censorship, whether by the federal government or popular societal trends, disrupts the public ability to perceive the actions of their government (of which they and all citizens in a democracy are equal shareholders) in a realistic light. As Loewen says “Censorship is the cause, not the remedy, of confusion about war.”(250) Contrary to the beliefs of General Westmoreland, the increase in censorship, and the publics’ willingness to allow it since the Vietnam war, has lead to the American people’s mute acceptance of the same shameful acts and atrocities that brought people out by the millions to protest only 40 years ago. It is evident that both social, and governmental censorship inevitably skews the national perceptions, and their willingness to dissent against it.
Sad as it may sound, the Vietnam War was an incredible period in journalism. Journalists in Vietnam had almost complete freedom to report what they experienced to the world. Ward Just, a contributor to the book Reporting Vietnam, a collection of reports both from writers in the field and at stateside relates what this period was like, he writes “There was much that was traditional about the war, including the reporting of it. Vietnam was the last war in which American military authorities willingly transported reporters into battle. When you arrived at the command post you were briefed, pointed in the direction of the gunfire, and then left alone to do your work.”(Just, XV) This freedom for journalists to report where, and what they would, led to some of the most gruesome and incredible images in American history, A naked girl running down the street fleeing a napalm attack, the execution of a Vietcong militant by a police chief on the streets of Saigon, or bodies, littering a road after the My Lai massacre. (Loewen, 246) Americans responded to these images with overwhelming passion, leading to the greatest anti-war protests in American history. Richard Lacayo, writing for Time magazine captures in words, the effect these photos and others had on the American public; he says, “Vietnam…was the media's war. Television broadcasts and searing photographs of the wounded and the dead helped turn public opinion against the conflict.”(Lacayo) The Vietnam War is an example of the power of the press, free from censorship. The images and stories filtering into people’s televisions and radios across the nation were brutal, graphic and undeniable. For the first time since the civil war, the American people came faced to face with war, not by reading in the newspaper about a far off battlefield, but with their own eyes. These powerful, disturbing images touched the soul of the nation, forging their perception of the conflict in iron. It was difficult to debate the efficacy and necessity of the war when full color images of death and slaughter filled peoples homes every night.
Of all the images of the Vietnam War, one of the most violent, and disturbing is that of the aftermath of the massacre at My Lai. In March of 1968 an American infantry company marched into a Vietnamese village in search of the North Vietnamese. They did not find them but attacked the village anyway, by the end of the engagement 504 innocent men, women and children had been killed by the soldiers (“In The Name of War”) The story of the massacre did not break until a year later. Afterwards an inquest was held by the military and in the end only one soldier, Lt. William Calley was found guilty. According to the BBC “He was sentenced to life imprisonment with hard labor. Within three days he was out of prison, pending appeal, on the personal instructions of President Richard Nixon… Later that year he was paroled after completing one third of his sentence.”(“In The Name of War”) What is possibly more alarming than the gruesome brutality of the massacre, is that the Army attempted to cover it up, and they were successful for nearly a year. In this light, it is easy to see how public perception is determined, not necessarily by reality, but the parts of it we are allowed to see. Furthermore, in the case of Lt. Calley, it shows that the justice and equal rights [and responsibilities] under law that America was founded on, are able to be bent and warped by the government when it’s own agents are involved.
In the 21st century, the un-altered brutality of war is lost on many Americans. In 2003, when the American led invasion of Iraq began, America saw something new in the history of wartime journalism. For the invasion, the Bush government invented the concept of the embedded reporter. Embedded reporters are assigned to military units, and they are limited by the military in regards to what they can report. This has provided reporters with unprecedented access to military operations and information regarding the war, but at what cost? Reporter Terry Gainey writes, “Reporters who covered the Vietnam War had much greater access to the stark reality of combat and encountered fewer obstacles from the military than their counterparts in Iraq.”(Gainey, 16) There is little question that the American people perceive the war in Iraq much differently than Vietnam. With a few small exceptions, the American people have not taken to the streets in same numbers they did during Vietnam. Even though by 2006 a majority of Americans were against the war. The biggest difference between the wars is the access that the American people have to them. During the invasion of Iraq, viewers tuned in to see embedded reporters riding on the backs of tanks through open desert, and triumphantly through Iraqi villages. However, with numerous reporters, embedded with numerous military units, there are very few images that stick in the conscious mind. If a person were to think about the invasion they might call up the image of the bombing of Baghdad in the run up to the invasion, or the statue of Saddam Hussein toppling in the town center, but the most demanding images of the war came much later, from Abu Ghraib prison.
In 2004, photographs of detainee abuse at Abu Ghraib found their way into the hands of the media. One of these pictures showed grinning soldiers next to a pyramid of naked Iraqi detainees, one prisoner was leashed like a dog. (“Blame for Abu Ghraib”) Many of these photographs are more degrading than this example. The truly alarming thing is, that much like the My Lai massacre, evidence of these crimes did not come to light until almost a year after they began. In response to the nation’s reaction to the Abu Ghraib photographs, the U.S. Department of Defense, under secretary Donald Rumsfeld, was quick to shift blame away from itself. It blamed instead the young soldiers seen in the photographs and insisted that it did not issue orders encouraging such treatment. However, in 2008, a report by the Senate Armed Services committee stated, according to USA Today, “the guards' tactics were the byproduct of policies spawned by a 2002 memo, signed by President Bush, declaring that the Geneva Conventions for humane treatment of detainees did not apply to enemy fighters in the war on terror.”(“Blame for Abu Ghraib”) After directly denying any responsibility for the Abu Ghraib Scandal, the Senate Armed Services Committee found Donald Rumsfeld and top Bush administration officials guilty of lying outright to the American people. There seems to be an attitude in government and higher levels of power that people are unable or unwilling to accept the truth about their own government and it’s actions. Examples like these demonstrate even more the importance of public awareness. Citizens rely on governments to protect them from those who would harm them, but what if the government is causing the harm? Is it possible that the U.S. federal government is causing harm to its people? Loewen shows how social censoring in textbooks trains people not to think that way. He writes, “textbook authors portray a heroic state, and, like their other heroes this one is pretty much without blemishes. Such an approach converts textbooks into anti-citizenship manuals---handbooks for acquiescence.”(220) Censorship, and the exoneration of power is a recurring cycle. Controlling what, and how people learn about the government, makes official censorship more palatable to the point that it almost goes unnoticed. At what point do those in power become subject to public accountability?
In 2005, a news story broke that claimed the Bush administration had authorized warrantless wire-tapping of American citizens, and that it was working in conjunction with the CIA to operate detention facilities overseas where prisoners of the war on terror were held indefinitely without trial, and in many cases, tortured. This caused more public outcry than almost anything else during the war, and yet did not result in the kind of public accountability that has been seen, even in the recent past. Journalist Laura Rozen laments the lack of public outcry following these revelations, she writes “both stories prompted expressions of concern about the policies from some members of Congress, giving rise to the expectation that, as in the past, the revelations of controversial and possibly illegal government programs would lead to congressional investigations and a public accounting. But that didn’t happen.”(33) Social censorship of the type described by Loewen is a possible cause for this. When people have been taught from a young age to revere the government as a hero, as a force for good beyond reproach, it can be difficult to know how to react when it falls short of expectation. In this confusion, this uncertainty of what it means to be a citizen in a democratic nation, people forget that the government’s main responsibility is to its people. The first amendment to the bill of rights, the cornerstone of our constitution, guarantees the right of the governed to keep accountable those who are put in power. America seems at times to be a child who is unwilling to accept that its parent’s are fallible and can make mistakes. People fear to challenge the government, for it means challenging the very image of America, formed in their childhood. An “America”, that is warped and censored almost beyond true recognition, not by the government, but by historians, and teachers. The fear of challenging the perception of “America” increased exponentially after September 11th 2001. Laura Rozen, quoting journalist Seymour Hersh, writes “In the climate that prevailed after the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, ‘newspapers decided they were on the team. And that set off a chain, an attitude, that chilled the First Amendment right away.’” (35) After 9/11, the concept of “America” as an idea, ceased be an abstract and became a tangible cultural phenomenon. As a wave of nationalism swept over the country following the terrorist attacks, it became “un-patriotic” in the public eye to question the government or it’s motives. This lock-down on “un-american” sentiment extended to the media as well and it became less and less willing to publish stories critical of the government.
It seems strange that this social censorship is still so prevalent in American society. After all, hasn’t the government given its citizens ample reason to mistrust? Loewen writes, “From the Vietnam War to Watergate…to the mythical weapons of mass destruction that allegedly caused George W. Bush to invade Iraq, revelation after revelation of misconduct and deceit…shattered the trust of the American people.”(Loewen, 242) With these examples, and many others it seems reasonable that trust in the government is not a universal surety. So, why when it is so easy to mistrust, and be cynical of our government, is censorship and misinformation so pervasive in American society? Why aren’t their more dissenters? It seems that traditionalism plays a large part in this; traditionalism that, while based on the past has little basis in history. This traditionalism for some reason rests in the cradle of the textbook historian. Where this traditionalist censorship is allowed to flourish, a free, self-governing democracy will always struggle to flourish. It in fact encourages the government censorship that allows travesties such as Abu Ghraib and the My Lai massacre to go unanswered for. When it becomes taboo for people to question their government, it becomes taboo for them to question its censorship, and those who report it. As Laura Rozen writes in “Hung Out To Dry”, “Concern about government scrutiny of [journalists] and their contacts, partisan attacks on their ethics and patriotism, and hours huddled with lawyers have taken a toll on reporters.”(34) With the people of America at large, unwilling or unable to question the motives of its government, it is crucial that those who are willing, be they activists or journalists, even politicians, be allowed to do so without unnecessary reproach. Without dissenters, without people who cut through the lies and misinformation, democracy is not possible. Often these people are branded as “un-American” or “un-patriotic”, but are in fact standing for what is at the heart of our democracy, the right of the people to keep the government accountable.
There are many ways that our American democracy, which has stood for over 200 hundred years, can come under attack. That attack may come in the form of terrorism, or international aggression, but the most insidious form of attack can come from the government, which is sworn to uphold it. Agencies designed to protect America’s citizens, like the National Security Agency, or the Department of Homeland Security, can turn inward to suppress and monitor the very people they once protected. Loewen writes, “In the last fifty years, the power of the CIA, the National Security Council, and other covert agencies has grown to become, in some eyes, a fearsome fourth branch of the government.” (243) The people of America have the power to curtail this fourth branch, with their words, their actions and their votes. Before this can happen however, America must realize that misinformation is everywhere, including their history textbooks. They must cut through the lies being sold by those in power and find out what is true for themselves. Americans must be wary of those who would deny them access to information, for leaders who do so, send us down a slippery slope from democracy, to despotism.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

10 Things That Make Life Easier to Live

1. Sunny Days
2. MaryAnna
3. Old, comfortable shoes
4. When you smile at someone, and they smile back
5. Knowing that "In times like these, in times like those, what will be will be, and so it goes."(i.e. the music of Jack Johnson)
6. Having an example to follow
7. Knowing where I'm going
8. Wondering where I'm going
9. Knowing that no matter how much I learn or how I come to understand the world, that there is always more to learn and understand.
10. Those people you meet that remind you that even though people do terrible, disgusting things to each other, we are still essentially good at heart

Questions, Knowing

I've never been very good at dealing with life. What is life? so far life seems to be moments of confusion, wrapped in sadness and worry, garnished with the occasional moments of clarity. Clarity, so what is that? Is it love? Is it Faith, understanding or knowledge. Is clarity happiness? or does happiness bring clarity? How do we understand the world around us? Do we look to God or some other higher power? Given all the beliefs in the world, there is what? like, a 99.9% chance of being wrong about everything I believe in, usually that .1% is enough to keep me going, but not right now. I look at the world and all I see is my own confusion. I ask myself questions that I can't answer; Why? Why do I act the way I do? Why can't I believe in anything? I wish my mind, normally wide open, and accepting of most things would just close. I wish I could be sure of JUST ONE thing. I wish i KNEW one thing without doubt. I wish I KNEW that I wanted to be a teacher, a writer, I wish I KNEW that the God that I claim to follow was real, I wish I KNEW that I married the right person. I wish I KNEW who my friends were, I wish I KNEW that there was a purpose to life, but I don't KNOW any of those things. I think them REALLY HARD most of the time. How do I know? I guess I just don't.

Friday, March 13, 2009

10 things that turned me from a hardcore conservative republican to left-leaning independent:

1. The Bush administration's disgusting mismanagement of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
2. The Iraq War and my intrinsic opposition to its every facet.
3.The music of John Mayer.
4. Getting married.
5. Becoming a college student.
6. The music of Steve Earle.
7. The music of John Lennon.
8. The documentary The Party's over, and footage of the '68 and 2000 DNC and '99 WTO protests (When I see American police officers opening fire on crowds of unarmed U.S. citizens engaged in their first amendment right to protest, it makes me want to cry.)
9. The fact that 45 million people in America can't afford access to basic medical care, even hard-working citizens like my wife and me.
10. Eight years of the Bush administration. Period.

Going Beyond The Green: Discovering the Irish-American Identity

Who am I? Where did I come from? Where am I going? This question is universal; building our identity is something that all people do from the time they are born to the time they die. It is a continuous process of discovery and re-discovery that makes us who we are as people and determines the face that we show the world. But how is it that we discover this identity? What is it that makes us who we are? Philosophers, writers and thinkers throughout the ages too, have asked this question. Is it our parents, our skin color, or how much money we have? Where we’re from? Or is it something deeper, something far more existential that lies within us; is it something that we can define? In attempting to answer this question for myself I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of cultural heritage and identity. This is a very important part of how we establish our identity as people. The question I have been exploring is, how is cultural identity constructed? Is it entirely a result of the geographic heritage of our families, is it the cultural surroundings in which we were raised, or something that we define for ourselves by the choices we make? These questions led me to a book by politician and civil rights activist Tom Hayden titled, Irish on the Inside, and a frank, sad, but poignant essay by Irish Writer, Robert McLiam Wilson called “Sticks and Stones: The Irish Identity.” After reading and reflecting on these three texts, I am coming to believe that cultural heritage and identity are just as much a creation of the individual as they are a result of family background, or hereditary geography.
Irish Americans face struggle today, which is complicated by geography. We are often three generations or more out of Ireland and are separated from it by an ocean. This makes it that much harder to hold on to our heritage in a society that demands conformity. Because of this, the Irish American has been absorbed, for the most part into the unfortunate category of “White/Non-Hispanic.”(Hayden, 2) By being lumped into the category of “white”, we are robbed of status as an independent ethnicity with its own rich history. Should we accept this as natural; simply fade into the obscurity of white America and forget our heritage as mere nostalgia? Hayden explores this when he writes, “Today’s Irish-Americans face a post-assimilation issue…Should we not embrace our Americanism and forget the past?...Many of us think so…but many others maintain at least as sentimental attachment, and rising numbers have a kind of hunger for ethnic identity that Americanism cannot meet except superficially.”(Hayden, 29) The superficial Irish-American identity is all too evident in American society. Images of leprechauns, shamrocks and pots o’ gold at the end of the rainbow, make a mockery of the rich heritage of Ireland. St. Patrick’s Day, as it is celebrated in the United States stands as a testament to the pervasive misconstruction of what it mean to be Irish. There is much more to the Irish persona, then drinking green beer and singing “Danny boy” once a year. McLiam Wilson, an native Irishman describes this superficiality. He writes, “When well received, this fake concoction of myth and bullshit is reflected in the mirror of imprecise good will and sentimental foolishness…Over the years I’ve watched the fundamental concepts of what it is to be Irish being altered by common-currency American errors.”(McLiam Wilson, 282) This superficial viewpoint of what it means to be Irish may have encouraged a generally positive; if not sentimental attitude but does it do more harm than good? How are Irish Americans to tell the difference between our own distinct heritage and the cartoony, “lucky charms” image that has forced its way into American pop-culture? Constructing a racial identity is hard enough without having these distracting inaccuracies to mislead and confuse us. McLiam Wilson talks about the effects of this pop-culture image in Ireland itself. He says, “Here in the ‘old country,’ when we hear that New Yorkers are in green-kilted bagpipe bands(an entirely Scottish phenomenon) on St. Patrick’s Day, we immediately look around for somewhere to buy green kilts and bagpipes.”(McLiam Wilson, 282) Even the Irish themselves cannot seem to escape the fate of the cheap plastic shamrock that is “Irishness.” If the citizens of Ireland itself are swept up into the wave of commercialized irishisms, than how are we, who are so far removed from the “old country” to tell the forgeries from the genuine article? In order to understand what it means to be Irish, we have to go beyond the green, and try to understand the rich history of Ireland, and the struggles that brought our grandparents and great-grandparents across the ocean to start new lives in America.
The monster that is American consumerism seems to have no patience for history and heritage if it won’t sell. American culture likes to appropriate, very little in fact can be considered uniquely American. The American melting pot tends to take aspects of other cultures and integrate them into itself, warping and changing them as it does so. This is what has happened to the Irish in America. The aspects of Irish culture that were absorbed into the America have become twisted and unrecognizable, their significance forgotten. Those aspects of Irish culture that did not fit into American culture were cast aside, and the Irish-Americans have been forced over the years to cast off their Irish roots and simply become Americans.
With these challenges, it can be very difficult to determine how exactly an American of any background is to construct their identity. In the end I think it boils down to choice. In choosing to be Irish, or any of the hundreds of other cultures represented in the US, we begin to lay the building blocks of our personal cultural identities. To paraphrase an old adage, “we think, therefore we are.” At some point we decide, consciously, to be what we are going to be. Our country of origin may have a seemingly insurmountable influence, but we must choose whether or not to embrace our true heritage. Tom Hayden relates the story of how he came to embrace his heritage. He writes, “in 1968, accused of being less than a red blooded American by the authorities, having been beaten up and indicted in Chicago, having been targeted for “neutralization” by J. Edgar Hoover, I saw marchers in Northern Ireland singing “We Shall Overcome” and, in an epiphany, discovered that I was Irish on the Inside.”(Hayden, 4) Whether this realization is born out of crisis or a gradual process of self-discovery, we must each decide who, and what, we are. Men and women must decide to construct their own identity and heritage. When we come to the place where this decision is based not on the whims of others, geographical origin or the demands of family, skin color or language; then we realize that each one is responsible for themselves and no one else, and we can begin to move toward unity and understanding.


Works Cited.
Hayden, Tom. Irish On The Inside. London: Verso, 2001.

Mcliam Wilson, Robert. “Sticks and Stones: The Irish Identity.” The Anchor Essay
Annual: The Best of 2008. Ed. Philip Lopate. New York: Anchor, 1998. 280-86

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Why The Night

This is a poem that came to me while working a youth overnighter at the YMCA. It was around 3am and all the kids had gone to bed, I was sitting at the front listening to music and just thinking and it came so I fired up word and jotted it down.

Why The Night? - By Brad Ferris

Why is night so much lonelier than day?

Is it the dark?

The shapeless shadow that seems to surround you

Or is it the stillness?

The tangible calm that wraps you tight

Like a blanket

Why at night do thoughts come?

So freely, unbidden

They come

Like loneliness

Out of the dark

Out of the still

Taking form only for a moment then vanishing

Like headlights on the road

Shining bright for a moment

To push back the night

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Looking Into the Mirror of History

History is fluid. It changes from one person to another, in how it is taught and how it is perceived. History, like scripture or politics is impossible to absorb and analyze without personal bias. Every school child in America is taught stories of our national history that exemplify the greatest virtues of what Americans feel they should be. Catch phrases like, “In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue.” are a part of the collective memory of almost anyone who attended public school. When we are spoon fed this kind of information in this way it becomes very easy to accept what we are learning as fact. It may never occur to us that the epics of our childhoods are in fact, monumental falsehoods. Author James Loewen, in his book Lies My Teacher Told Me, explores many of the historical inconsistencies taught today, he writes, “History is furious debate informed by evidence and reason…Textbooks encourage students to believe that history is facts to be learned”(Loewen, 8)With this in mind, it is important to analyze history, and how it is taught, with a critical eye. The transformation from historical accuracy to cultural myth has to do a great deal with how reading itself has changed over the last hundred years. We have access to so much more information in our day and age than did those in prior generations; whether it is newspaper, television or the internet, Americans are bombarded with information. With so much going in and out of our brains all the time we have very little time to process, analyze and verify the information that we consume. As an adult, engaged in a study of history it is crucial to understand how society’s interpretation of history has been skewed by an education system that discourages deeper understanding of the events that have defined it.
How we read as a society and a culture greatly affects how we study and learn about history. In his Essay “The Owl Has Flown” writer Sven Birkerts takes a close look at how our culture reads. He talks about how our society has moved away from intense reading because of technology and the ready availability of material. He says, “With the proliferation of mechanically produced books and the democratization of education, reading not only spread rapidly, but changed its basic nature.”(Birkerts, 71) The concept of the democratization of education is an interesting one to explore, and ties directly into the modern day perceptions of history. Education today is to a great extent a pedagogy of the masses. No longer do isolated teachers in small schoolhouses relate their knowledge of the world, to small groups of pupils. Today, mighty school corporations educate thousands of children at a time. Curriculum is handed down from an administrator who receives it from other sources. This is one factor that leads to events being misconstrued. It is human nature to change facts or ideas to fit our own interests. People do this every day. Who hasn’t run a stop sign on a rainy day and blamed it on the weather. We immediately seek an outside source upon which to blame our deficiency. We say “Well, the roads were wet and I didn’t think I could stop.” We say this to eliminate the guilt of doing wrong. We conveniently change our perception of the event to feel better, and in doing so, our perception becomes our reality. The same thing occurs on a larger scale in history. The story of Christopher Columbus is one of the best examples. Columbus is portrayed as one of the greatest minds in history, as a man whose courage and spirit of exploration paved the way for the founding of our nation. This depiction of Columbus feels very good. The truth however, is inconvenient; the truth that perhaps he wasn’t as altruistic and noble as some would have us believe. It does not feel good to teach that the driving force behind Columbus’s first and subsequent voyages was not to “prove the world was round”(a fact that was actually well accepted by most scholars of the time.) or any such nonsense, but to secure a tariff free route to the East Indies, thereby becoming very wealthy. In chapter 2 of his book, which specifically talks about Columbus, Loewen writes, “Textbooks downplay the pursuit of wealth as a motive for coming to the Americas when they describe Columbus…Their authors apparently believe that to have America explored and colonized for economic gain is somehow undignified.”(Loewen, 36) This is why the basic history we are taught in schools has become distorted. It is as if those in charge of curriculum, from the writers and publishers of textbooks to school principles and department heads are afraid to teach real history. They seem to fear that if they teach history as it happened, not just the great triumphs but the dark moments also, that children will become disillusioned, and think critically about the nation and society.
One way that we can overcome the fairy tales we have been taught in school is to read history with intentionality. You can do this by reading and doing research with the intent that you are going to discover the truth about what you are reading. This will often include reading one or more reliable sources in depth. The purpose of this sort of intentional reading is not merely to learn more about what you are studying but to understand it better. There is a difference between knowledge and understanding that is crucial to comprehend. When we gain knowledge of something we can recite facts about it, we can spew out interesting points on cue, maybe even teach it to others, but we can’t synthesize it with other information. Understanding is reached when you realize the implications of what you are studying, both to other events and times in history, and to your life. For example, someone with knowledge of the seven years war can tell you that it was waged from 1756 to 1763 and was fought by Britain and France. A person with an understanding can show you its ramification on both the American and French revolutions, and how it restructured political power in Europe forever. The difference between knowledge and understanding could also be called wisdom. Berkerts says, “Wisdom has nothing to do with the organizing of facts—this is basic. Wisdom is seeing through facts, a penetration to the underlying laws and patterns.”(75) We fail to teach this wisdom in schools, therefore if people are to gain wisdom for themselves, they must choose to do so. Without wisdom, history can be re-written every time it is told. Personal biases emerge and sensationalism takes hold. Loewen talks about this sensationalism in regards to the ever-present disparity between classes in America. He found that, “Half of the eighteen high school American history textbooks I examined contain no index listing at all for social class…three list middle class, but only to assure students that America is a middle class country.”(Loewen, 206) It is as if textbooks would have students believe that hunger and poverty don’t exist in America. The idea of America as the “land of opportunity” has been a pervasive one in the world for almost two hundred years, drawing countless thousands of immigrants from across the globe. These immigrants came to America looking for land, wealth and happiness and found only poverty and strife. Poverty continues to this day in our inner cities, Native American reservations and rural mountain communities, and is routinely over looked by those in power and citizens at large. The likely reason for this being that we as Americans are trained from a young age by textbooks and the teachers who teach them, to overlook those things in society that make us uncomfortable with our national image. We call it patriotism, but it is really, selective perception. Berkerts expresses concern over this as well, he writes, “The lack of perspective hobbles the mind, leads to suspiciousness and conservatism…After a while the sense of scale is attenuated and a relativism resembling cognitive and moral paralysis may result.”(Berkerts, 73) This is exactly what our history education does to students, it stunts their perspective. As a society we have put red, white and blue blinders on them, encouraging them to see only what is “good” about the nation we have built. This has begun to lead to the moral paralysis that Berkerts writes about. For example, take the Gauntanomo bay prison facility. For just under eight years Americans as a whole have stood by and done nothing while our government illegally detained hundreds of prisoners without just cause or evidence, routinely violating their rights as human beings. Americans stood by and watched this happen, not because we are evil people, but because we have been taught that if America does it, it is probably good. We have a lack of perspective; we do not remember the forced marches of Native Americans away from their homes, or the Japanese internment camps that indefinitely imprisoned American citizens during World War II, for no other reason than their ancestral heritage. If the American people had been encouraged to more deeply understand history as children growing up, it is very likely that the prison would never have stayed open, Americans would have demanded it closed from its beginning.
You cannot truly understand history if you only examine the parts that make you feel good about yourself and your nation. History, like a person is the sum total of all of its parts, not just the good, not just the bad. Choices have been made in history for both good and evil, and through these choices we have a unique window into not only events, but also the human soul. What it means to be human, and what it means to be American are written on the pages of history. So, when we study it, it’s important to see the whole picture, to fully understand what makes us the nation that we are. When we look at ourselves through the mirror of history we may not like what we see, but it is who we are. We will see that we unrightfully enslaved a people, but we also fought, and sacrificed lives to free them. We will see that we dropped a bomb that killed tens of thousands of people but we will also see that we died by the thousands to topple a tyrant, and put an end to the genocide of an entire race. Understanding that America has done wrong, does not make us Un-American, it makes us that much more proud of the incredible force for good that our nation has been, and can be, in the world.

Works Cited
Loewen, James W. Lies My Teacher Told Me. New York: Touchstone, 2007.

Berkerts, Sven. "The Owl Has Flown." Making Sense. Coleman, Bob, et al. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2006.pp. 71-76.