Well, I've started and not finished two other posts. I get going and they eventually make sense to me, but in a way I'm positive would never make sense to anyone else. I tend to do that occasionally. That and with so much on my mind, it's hard to focus on writing about any one thing.
This last month and a half or so I've been way too focused on the status of my life. I think we tend to do that when we get to a certain age. Everyone around us seems to be well on their way to the next step in life and for whatever reason, we are left behind. I know there are lots of extenuating circumstances right now, but it's to the point where I wanna sit there and go, "Seriously?!"
There are stages in life. Early childhood, grade school, teenage years, college, early twenties, post graduate years, marriage, adulthood, babies, raising children, empty nesting, grandchildren and a whole bunch of others I'm sure we could put in there. We go from one to the next just trying to make it through. So what happens if you get to the end of one stage, and stall at beginning of the next?
That's kind of what I think a lot of my generation is facing. We graduate high school, go to college, and then get stuck in a rut. I think that some of the reason for that can be attributed to the socio-economic status of the world. One thing affects another which affects another and it just goes on and on. Because the economy is so bad, there are fewer jobs. College graduates are having a harder time finding work. That means they are working jobs they didn't go to school for that pay much less than what they were hoping for with a degree. They're living at home longer because it's cheaper. (I'm a perfect example of this) They are simply "hanging out" instead of exclusively dating because exclusively dating someone can lead to marriage and a lot of us can't afford that. All of it can be attributed to the fact that the economy sucks.
In my opinion, we're stalling because we're afraid. Our world has become so much more uncertain. I remember being a child going to elementary school and the only thing I worried about was whether or not the boy I had a crush on had noticed me...and getting good grades, though that was admittedly secondary for me. Now, I feel like Scarlet O'Hara from Gone With the Wind. She got so focused on securing her future, that she didn't have time to worry about anything else or what might get in the way. "I can't think about that right now. I'll think about it tomorrow." I don't think it's just me that feels that way either. I think that's why there are so many singles and college graduates who just get...stuck.
Ideology has changed somewhat as well. It used to be that people would go to college, get married, finish their degrees, and then go to work. Now, people are far less inclined toward marriage. The examples that we see from celebrity couples and even our own parents or friends parents don't really instill much confidence in the institution. Some people believe that they are just not meant for marriage or anything greater than a dead end job with no potential to climb higher and be part of the "1%" that have earned the right to be the 1%. Don't get me started on that. I'll get angry.
What I don't understand is why we are so afraid. People have been doing the hard things for years. We are not the only generation to suffer through hardship and our hardship is certainly not the hardest. Each generation, each era, has had it's own struggles. They were just as difficult for them as our struggles are for us. The people who suffered religious persecution in Europe and fled to America, their struggles were life changing to them. The pioneers who crossed the great expanse of our nation dealt with fear, sickness, death, and all the things that the wilds of our country could throw at them. Many of them didn't make it. Our country has faced numerous wars that encompassed numerous generations and with each war came more sophisticated weaponry. We've faced a depression before that was mixed with a serious drought in our farm country. We've faced corrupt politicians, intelligence wars, and weapons that can destroy entire cities in the blink of an eye. I know there were people who avoided the challenges of their time, but I don't think it was to the extent we are facing now. In each era, with each struggle, I'm positive these people were afraid. I don't think any young man who signed up to go to war didn't feel some twinge of fear...but they went anyway. Why is it so different now?
I can't avoid talking about the "99%". I've said it before and I will probably say it again. My generation is spoiled rotten. I'm not going to place blame because I don't think it can be attributed to any one person or group of people. My generation has begun to think that, because they've been given everything instantly throughout their lives, they shouldn't have to work to get anything. There is a small percentage of kids my age who believe that taking the money from people who have RIGHTFULLY EARNED IT is the "moral" and correct thing to do. I am not part of the 1%. I work for what I have. I don't know how all of the 1% got where they are, but I'm fairly certain it wasn't because they stole money from people who were richer than them. I think most of them were blessed with genius moments and capitalized on it. The kicker for me is that these Occupy Wall Street, "99%" demonstrators wouldn't know what to do with themselves if the 1% hadn't done what they did and created the things they have. There'd be no cars, no computers, no gasoline to run the cars, no iPhones...we'd be in the 1830's. I guarantee that if that "99%" were in the shoe of the 1%, they'd be singing a different tune. Why are they so afraid to get their hands dirty and go to work? Why are we so afraid to put in a little elbow grease to make our lives work? Life has never been easy. Why do we all of a sudden think it should be?
My generation is going to destroy us. They're already well on their way. We are so hell bent on "getting our share", that we are forgetting the important things. The funny thing is, I think most of my generation would agree with me and not the OWS retards. We're just too afraid to stand up and say something about it because of how it might sound. I don't want things handed to me. I don't want someone to say, "Here, Kati. You haven't done much, but you seem underprivileged so I'll give you your brother's money because he has extra and needs to be generous." That's called Communism. I didn't earn that money, my brother did. I didn't earn the billions Bill Gates has. He earned it. He worked for what he has. Why can't the "99%" understand that they have just as much potential to be the next Bill Gates? All it takes is a little elbow grease...and courage to conquer your fear. True, you may not end up a billionaire...but you get to experience life. I can't think of a greater reward than that.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Fighting the Darkness
Life can be full of negatives. It seems to me that it's easier to find and remember things to be sad about, but much more difficult to remember the good things. We see it every day of our lives. Life is essentially a roller coaster. For some, controlling that roller coaster comes naturally. For others, it's like riding the Texas Giant or the Titan at Six Flags. You know the twists and turns and steep dives are coming, but you can't do much about it strapped into your seat on the car. You are at the mercy of someone else's design.
I've been spending a lot of time watching people. Sounds kind of creepy, but it's how I learn. When I watch the things people do, it helps me to learn the things I need to work on in my own life. Right now, what I'm noticing, is that there is an awful lot of the black clouds that come with negativity. A lot of us are having a hard time finding something to be positive about. I'm sure there are a number of reasons for this, but I wanted to offer my perspective.
Please don't think I'm delusional or retarded for this theory. I've spent a great deal of time feeling it out, sometimes very literally. You see, there's a very simple principle that exists within the laws of physics. Darkness cannot exist where there is light. However, the darkness is not destroyed, it's simply laying in wait for the light to go away so that it can once again rule the space light had previously occupied. The same can be applied in our lives. When we are thriving and happy and on a good path, our lives are filled with light. There is no room for darkness. When we struggle and wander on a path that is less than desirable, the darkness creeps in.
Darkness is subtle. In a 24 hour cycle, the night comes on only as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon. It is a gentle descent into the blackness of night. So it is with our lives. We make little mistakes that eventually become bigger. It's rarely a full on blast that takes out the sun in our lives. That generally doesn't happen. I think that's because no one intends to be a bad person. I believe that everyone is essentially good and wants to be a good person. It's just very difficult once you've begun to let the darkness rule you.
On the opposite end, have you ever noticed how quickly the dawn expels the night? When the sun breaks over that horizon, everything is bathed in light. The darkness disappears. The good things in life outweigh the bad. They will always dispel the darkness inside of us. The only thing holding us back is ourselves and how thick the clouds are around our hearts.
I realize that some of this is probably not making much sense so let me explain. I believe that some people are very literally followed by clouds of darkness. In the Bible, Genesis records that 1/3 of the host of heaven were cast out when Lucifer rebelled and led them astray. They were forbidden to come to earth to gain a body. When you think about how many people have thus far lived on this earth, and how many more we still have to come, 1/3 of that number is a staggering amount. I don't even want to try and think about how many that was. Mostly because I stink at math, but I digress. When these spirits were cast out, they followed the Morning Star. That was one of Lucifer's names. Lucifer was such a rebellious child that he did what all rebellious children do. He decided that if he was going to be miserable, then everyone else should be too. He has set out from that moment to make our existence here a living hell. We have something he can never have and it makes him angry. He blames us and God and Christ for his present state. He doesn't know how to accept the blame and responsibility for what he's done. Sound familiar? He is the reason for all of the misery in the world. Well, he's partly to blame. We all make choices, but I'll get to that later.
I believe that that 1/3 host of heaven is very real. I believe they are the darkness that follows people around. Here's why: I have felt them. Like I said, please don't think I'm delusional or retarded. I know it sounds a little crazy, but it's not that hard to imagine. I have led a less than perfect life. I strayed from the light for a lot of years and am still trying to find my way back for some things. There have been times where I swear something has been following me and whispering negative things in my ear. Most of that revolves around my own self worth and appearance because that is where I struggle the most and they know it. Were I too actually think well of myself, I would not have been in some of the situations I've found myself in. Anytime I've seen a picture of myself, I have self-criticizing thoughts, and as crazy as it sounds, when I have those thoughts, I'm also thinking at the same time that I'm crazy because it's not that bad. Why else would I think I'm ugly and a horrible person? I truly don't believe that...but something is trying to make me.
That's not the only reason I think they're real. I have been around other people I would swear are being influenced by that same darkness. These are people who would normally not do the things they do, but are constantly being whispered too and are too weak to say no. It's really not that far fetched. What else would those spirits be doing? Misery and jealousy are terms coined specifically because of those people. They are the definition of misery, jealousy, depression, anger, and hatred. They are the clouds surrounding our hearts and souls that keep us from finding the light.
There are ways to silence the darkness. Just stop doing what you know is wrong. Like I said, I've been down that path and it is much easier to stay stop doing the wrong thing than to actually stop sometimes. It is very difficult and it can physically hurt. Living in darkness is infinitely easier than trying to live in the Light. As someone who's struggled for a lot of years to find her happiness, I can testify to how much easier and enticing the darkness is, because the other aspect of the darkness is that it conceals the bad. In the Light, you have to face what you've done and try and fix it. Your soul is like your body and has to heal and it is a slow process...but it's worth it.
In the book, The Hobbit and the subsequent Lord of the Rings trilogy, there is a creature named Gollum. When he enters the story, he is a shriveled, pale, sickly creature who cannot exist in the normal world. He lives in a cave that is dark and dank. He is a slave to what he calls "my precious". It's a ring possessed by the spirit and evil of it's creator Sauron. When he found it, it whispered to him. He killed his friend to possess it and spiraled downward every day after that until he became what Bilbo Baggins found. Gollum did not begin as Gollum. He gave in to the whisperings of something much darker until he could no longer think for himself. The more he wore the ring, the more he fell to the influence of evil. It's the same for all of us. We never intend to become the Gollum's of this world. No one ever wants to be that miserable. The challenge, again, comes when we try to find our way back to the light. Gollum tried. He reverted briefly back to Smeagol, which was who he was originally, but ultimately could not sustain that life. It was too difficult for him and being Gollum was much simpler. Ask a drug addict or some politicians and they'll tell you the same thing.
So the solution is simple. Stay away from the dark. Don't touch it with any part of yourself because it is very enticing and it will drag you down with it. If you are already there and are struggling to get to the light, don't give up. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it's hard. Yes, it sucks...but yes, it's worth it.
I've been spending a lot of time watching people. Sounds kind of creepy, but it's how I learn. When I watch the things people do, it helps me to learn the things I need to work on in my own life. Right now, what I'm noticing, is that there is an awful lot of the black clouds that come with negativity. A lot of us are having a hard time finding something to be positive about. I'm sure there are a number of reasons for this, but I wanted to offer my perspective.
Please don't think I'm delusional or retarded for this theory. I've spent a great deal of time feeling it out, sometimes very literally. You see, there's a very simple principle that exists within the laws of physics. Darkness cannot exist where there is light. However, the darkness is not destroyed, it's simply laying in wait for the light to go away so that it can once again rule the space light had previously occupied. The same can be applied in our lives. When we are thriving and happy and on a good path, our lives are filled with light. There is no room for darkness. When we struggle and wander on a path that is less than desirable, the darkness creeps in.
Darkness is subtle. In a 24 hour cycle, the night comes on only as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon. It is a gentle descent into the blackness of night. So it is with our lives. We make little mistakes that eventually become bigger. It's rarely a full on blast that takes out the sun in our lives. That generally doesn't happen. I think that's because no one intends to be a bad person. I believe that everyone is essentially good and wants to be a good person. It's just very difficult once you've begun to let the darkness rule you.
On the opposite end, have you ever noticed how quickly the dawn expels the night? When the sun breaks over that horizon, everything is bathed in light. The darkness disappears. The good things in life outweigh the bad. They will always dispel the darkness inside of us. The only thing holding us back is ourselves and how thick the clouds are around our hearts.
I realize that some of this is probably not making much sense so let me explain. I believe that some people are very literally followed by clouds of darkness. In the Bible, Genesis records that 1/3 of the host of heaven were cast out when Lucifer rebelled and led them astray. They were forbidden to come to earth to gain a body. When you think about how many people have thus far lived on this earth, and how many more we still have to come, 1/3 of that number is a staggering amount. I don't even want to try and think about how many that was. Mostly because I stink at math, but I digress. When these spirits were cast out, they followed the Morning Star. That was one of Lucifer's names. Lucifer was such a rebellious child that he did what all rebellious children do. He decided that if he was going to be miserable, then everyone else should be too. He has set out from that moment to make our existence here a living hell. We have something he can never have and it makes him angry. He blames us and God and Christ for his present state. He doesn't know how to accept the blame and responsibility for what he's done. Sound familiar? He is the reason for all of the misery in the world. Well, he's partly to blame. We all make choices, but I'll get to that later.
I believe that that 1/3 host of heaven is very real. I believe they are the darkness that follows people around. Here's why: I have felt them. Like I said, please don't think I'm delusional or retarded. I know it sounds a little crazy, but it's not that hard to imagine. I have led a less than perfect life. I strayed from the light for a lot of years and am still trying to find my way back for some things. There have been times where I swear something has been following me and whispering negative things in my ear. Most of that revolves around my own self worth and appearance because that is where I struggle the most and they know it. Were I too actually think well of myself, I would not have been in some of the situations I've found myself in. Anytime I've seen a picture of myself, I have self-criticizing thoughts, and as crazy as it sounds, when I have those thoughts, I'm also thinking at the same time that I'm crazy because it's not that bad. Why else would I think I'm ugly and a horrible person? I truly don't believe that...but something is trying to make me.
That's not the only reason I think they're real. I have been around other people I would swear are being influenced by that same darkness. These are people who would normally not do the things they do, but are constantly being whispered too and are too weak to say no. It's really not that far fetched. What else would those spirits be doing? Misery and jealousy are terms coined specifically because of those people. They are the definition of misery, jealousy, depression, anger, and hatred. They are the clouds surrounding our hearts and souls that keep us from finding the light.
There are ways to silence the darkness. Just stop doing what you know is wrong. Like I said, I've been down that path and it is much easier to stay stop doing the wrong thing than to actually stop sometimes. It is very difficult and it can physically hurt. Living in darkness is infinitely easier than trying to live in the Light. As someone who's struggled for a lot of years to find her happiness, I can testify to how much easier and enticing the darkness is, because the other aspect of the darkness is that it conceals the bad. In the Light, you have to face what you've done and try and fix it. Your soul is like your body and has to heal and it is a slow process...but it's worth it.
In the book, The Hobbit and the subsequent Lord of the Rings trilogy, there is a creature named Gollum. When he enters the story, he is a shriveled, pale, sickly creature who cannot exist in the normal world. He lives in a cave that is dark and dank. He is a slave to what he calls "my precious". It's a ring possessed by the spirit and evil of it's creator Sauron. When he found it, it whispered to him. He killed his friend to possess it and spiraled downward every day after that until he became what Bilbo Baggins found. Gollum did not begin as Gollum. He gave in to the whisperings of something much darker until he could no longer think for himself. The more he wore the ring, the more he fell to the influence of evil. It's the same for all of us. We never intend to become the Gollum's of this world. No one ever wants to be that miserable. The challenge, again, comes when we try to find our way back to the light. Gollum tried. He reverted briefly back to Smeagol, which was who he was originally, but ultimately could not sustain that life. It was too difficult for him and being Gollum was much simpler. Ask a drug addict or some politicians and they'll tell you the same thing.
So the solution is simple. Stay away from the dark. Don't touch it with any part of yourself because it is very enticing and it will drag you down with it. If you are already there and are struggling to get to the light, don't give up. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it's hard. Yes, it sucks...but yes, it's worth it.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Ya gotta be kidding me
I think the term I'm looking for is...OMG!
So, it's been a while. I kind of wanted to just regroup a little bit and ground myself before I talked about anything else. A lot has happened in the past few months and I feel like I've recharged a great deal. Just in time for another controversy for me to talk about! Haha
Initially, I didn't want to discuss any politics or anything similar on this blog. I figure I'm ok if I can keep the arguments with the sibs and friends to a minimum. Either way, this week I will probably post twice. Today, I want to talk about something that will lead into my 9/11 post tomorrow: "Entertainers". More specifically, I want to talk about the idiot who made a splash in the music industry this week simply by opening his mouth: Soulja Boy.
On Labor Day, Soulja Boy released a new song and video. The title is "Let's Be Real". Here's a little bit of info on "Soulja Boy" aka DeAndre Cortez Way. This kid is literally a kid. He was born in July of 1990, which makes him a mere 21 years old. From everything I've read about him, he has not had to struggle through anything. His father bought him a recording studio when he was living in Mississippi and he made his own videos to go along with the "songs" that he wrote. He self-published (much like a boy who looks like a girl *cough* Justin Bieber *cough*) and gained recognition and fame through YouTube. He was 11 when the airliners hit the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Like most of Hollywood, he is also terribly mis- and uninformed about a lot of things, politics and prejudice in particular.
So, there's your preface and information on Mr. Way. So, on Labor Day this year, this numbskull released "Let's Be Real" as both a track and a video. Being that he's gotten so "huge" in the rap/hip-hop industry, his video went viral. I don't think he realized how many people support our troops and our law enforcement, especially with such a huge anniversary just days away from when he released it. The lyrics of his song basically claim that he's better than any FBI agent or any military personnel. I won't write word for word what he said because I'm intelligent enough to use better words, but he said to screw the FBI and screw the army troops. He asks what they're fighting for and tells them to "be your own man"... I'll let that sink in for a moment before I go on.
Here is this 21 year old idiot who was old enough to remember 9/11. He is old enough to have witnessed the events of that day. He is not old enough for memory loss unless it's drug induced which is entirely possible. My question is, "What in the world were you thinking releasing that song?" The troops deployed overseas are not without means to view this kind of thing. Sure their amenities in these places are not consistent, but they aren't in the middle of a desert with absolutely no communication with the outside world. Did he honestly think they wouldn't see and hear what he'd done? I just don't understand.
Mr. Way has an interesting history of trading barbs with other rappers he doesn't get along with. They call them "diss songs". I call it middle school name calling and bullying. I'm not that big of a fan of rap anyway and that's increased in recent weeks. These guys think that because they rose from the ghetto and became "superstars" that they are more credible and more valuable than someone who didn't follow their example, but joined a branch of the service to escape the "hood". I wonder how they could have gotten that idea.
I remember that day ten years ago. I remember the thousands of people who died that day. I remember the troops who led us into Afghanistan and Iraq. I remember those who died to make sure that the threat against our freedom was neutralized. How is it that he forgot already? How is it that they've forgotten already?
In response to Mr. Way's video, the troops are fighting back with the same determination they fight with everyday. I've seen several videos on YouTube mocking Mr. Way for his tasteless lyrics and even poorer timing. He backpedaled when he started getting slammed with the hate, claiming that what he said was taken out of context and he was more upset and frustrated with the fact that we're fighting wars we shouldn't be and not taking care of the homefront. My response to that? Hahaha You're so dumb!
This generation is notorious for forgetting the sacrifices made by so many to give them the freedom of speech they seem to not have a filter for. We remember on the days that are marked by a holiday such as the 4th of July, Memorial Day, Veterans Day, and September 11th. Where is our patriotism the rest of the year? I admit, I am guilty of forgetting and taking for granted those things myself. I will not, however, speak out against the men and women who are standing in harms way overseas and at home to keep me and my loved ones safe. These people have given so much. Sometimes they give everything they have and still more is demanded. We have lost many lives to the cause of freedom and still we forget. With all of this sudden amnesia, I'm curious as to what's fueling it. Well, I don't have to look far.
News and entertainment are far from unbiased and fair. Celebrities and news outlets frequently make their political leanings know. I heard of more celebrities endorsing Barak Obama when he was running for president than I think I've heard in my entire life. They spoke up and encouraged us to vote for the first black president. A: He's half black. B: Why is Hollywood suddenly required to endorse a political candidate running for any office? I was completely dumbfounded when I saw so many of them making their opinions known. I was not shocked when my generation did exactly what Hollywood wanted and voted him in. I am part of a generation of sheep. That's no secret. I'm just not one who eats the koolaid flavored grass. I just don't understand when Hollywood's opinion of something political became valid. They are there to provide overpriced and underperformed entertainment. Unless they're running for office, they should stick their noses out of it. I honestly don't know why they side with the left either, as a side note. I don't understand that little tid bit of stupidity in the slightest.
Basically what this boils down to is a lack of education in the younger generation. My brothers have had full day-long conversations about the state of affairs in our country. I mostly remain quiet during those rants, but I absorb what I hear and find out for myself. The sheep just do what their told. The shepherd, in the form of news media and Hollywood, tells them to believe what they want them to believe and they do it. There are very few of us who actually do our homework and use the intelligence that God gave us to make informed decisions. DeAndre Way is too young and too ignorant to have formed an adequate opinion for himself. He's spouting what others have told him. He's outraged over something he has no comprehension of because someone else expressed their own outrage. He's as much of a sheep as the other koolaid-grass munching woolen livestock.
So where does that leave us? The obvious answer is in some really big piles of sheep poo. The only way out is to educate our own children and do what we can to keep them from having to clean up the ever growing mountain of poo being created by those too ignorant and too stubborn to just stop eating the koolaid-grass.
So, it's been a while. I kind of wanted to just regroup a little bit and ground myself before I talked about anything else. A lot has happened in the past few months and I feel like I've recharged a great deal. Just in time for another controversy for me to talk about! Haha
Initially, I didn't want to discuss any politics or anything similar on this blog. I figure I'm ok if I can keep the arguments with the sibs and friends to a minimum. Either way, this week I will probably post twice. Today, I want to talk about something that will lead into my 9/11 post tomorrow: "Entertainers". More specifically, I want to talk about the idiot who made a splash in the music industry this week simply by opening his mouth: Soulja Boy.
On Labor Day, Soulja Boy released a new song and video. The title is "Let's Be Real". Here's a little bit of info on "Soulja Boy" aka DeAndre Cortez Way. This kid is literally a kid. He was born in July of 1990, which makes him a mere 21 years old. From everything I've read about him, he has not had to struggle through anything. His father bought him a recording studio when he was living in Mississippi and he made his own videos to go along with the "songs" that he wrote. He self-published (much like a boy who looks like a girl *cough* Justin Bieber *cough*) and gained recognition and fame through YouTube. He was 11 when the airliners hit the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Like most of Hollywood, he is also terribly mis- and uninformed about a lot of things, politics and prejudice in particular.
So, there's your preface and information on Mr. Way. So, on Labor Day this year, this numbskull released "Let's Be Real" as both a track and a video. Being that he's gotten so "huge" in the rap/hip-hop industry, his video went viral. I don't think he realized how many people support our troops and our law enforcement, especially with such a huge anniversary just days away from when he released it. The lyrics of his song basically claim that he's better than any FBI agent or any military personnel. I won't write word for word what he said because I'm intelligent enough to use better words, but he said to screw the FBI and screw the army troops. He asks what they're fighting for and tells them to "be your own man"... I'll let that sink in for a moment before I go on.
Here is this 21 year old idiot who was old enough to remember 9/11. He is old enough to have witnessed the events of that day. He is not old enough for memory loss unless it's drug induced which is entirely possible. My question is, "What in the world were you thinking releasing that song?" The troops deployed overseas are not without means to view this kind of thing. Sure their amenities in these places are not consistent, but they aren't in the middle of a desert with absolutely no communication with the outside world. Did he honestly think they wouldn't see and hear what he'd done? I just don't understand.
Mr. Way has an interesting history of trading barbs with other rappers he doesn't get along with. They call them "diss songs". I call it middle school name calling and bullying. I'm not that big of a fan of rap anyway and that's increased in recent weeks. These guys think that because they rose from the ghetto and became "superstars" that they are more credible and more valuable than someone who didn't follow their example, but joined a branch of the service to escape the "hood". I wonder how they could have gotten that idea.
I remember that day ten years ago. I remember the thousands of people who died that day. I remember the troops who led us into Afghanistan and Iraq. I remember those who died to make sure that the threat against our freedom was neutralized. How is it that he forgot already? How is it that they've forgotten already?
In response to Mr. Way's video, the troops are fighting back with the same determination they fight with everyday. I've seen several videos on YouTube mocking Mr. Way for his tasteless lyrics and even poorer timing. He backpedaled when he started getting slammed with the hate, claiming that what he said was taken out of context and he was more upset and frustrated with the fact that we're fighting wars we shouldn't be and not taking care of the homefront. My response to that? Hahaha You're so dumb!
This generation is notorious for forgetting the sacrifices made by so many to give them the freedom of speech they seem to not have a filter for. We remember on the days that are marked by a holiday such as the 4th of July, Memorial Day, Veterans Day, and September 11th. Where is our patriotism the rest of the year? I admit, I am guilty of forgetting and taking for granted those things myself. I will not, however, speak out against the men and women who are standing in harms way overseas and at home to keep me and my loved ones safe. These people have given so much. Sometimes they give everything they have and still more is demanded. We have lost many lives to the cause of freedom and still we forget. With all of this sudden amnesia, I'm curious as to what's fueling it. Well, I don't have to look far.
News and entertainment are far from unbiased and fair. Celebrities and news outlets frequently make their political leanings know. I heard of more celebrities endorsing Barak Obama when he was running for president than I think I've heard in my entire life. They spoke up and encouraged us to vote for the first black president. A: He's half black. B: Why is Hollywood suddenly required to endorse a political candidate running for any office? I was completely dumbfounded when I saw so many of them making their opinions known. I was not shocked when my generation did exactly what Hollywood wanted and voted him in. I am part of a generation of sheep. That's no secret. I'm just not one who eats the koolaid flavored grass. I just don't understand when Hollywood's opinion of something political became valid. They are there to provide overpriced and underperformed entertainment. Unless they're running for office, they should stick their noses out of it. I honestly don't know why they side with the left either, as a side note. I don't understand that little tid bit of stupidity in the slightest.
Basically what this boils down to is a lack of education in the younger generation. My brothers have had full day-long conversations about the state of affairs in our country. I mostly remain quiet during those rants, but I absorb what I hear and find out for myself. The sheep just do what their told. The shepherd, in the form of news media and Hollywood, tells them to believe what they want them to believe and they do it. There are very few of us who actually do our homework and use the intelligence that God gave us to make informed decisions. DeAndre Way is too young and too ignorant to have formed an adequate opinion for himself. He's spouting what others have told him. He's outraged over something he has no comprehension of because someone else expressed their own outrage. He's as much of a sheep as the other koolaid-grass munching woolen livestock.
So where does that leave us? The obvious answer is in some really big piles of sheep poo. The only way out is to educate our own children and do what we can to keep them from having to clean up the ever growing mountain of poo being created by those too ignorant and too stubborn to just stop eating the koolaid-grass.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Because of the brave
I must confess that the Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays. Growing up, I loved everything about it. The firework shows were always a lot of fun and the barbecues always seemed so much more yummy on the fourth than on any other day of the year. I still get crazy excited about that aspect of this holiday. There are, however, more substantial reasons for being a major fan of July 4th.
I am a history nerd. I love learning about history. When my family lived in Bosnia, we got to tour some places in Europe. My favorite place? The bunkers on the beaches outside of Dunkirk that were used by the Germans in World War II. I thought it was just so cool to be standing in a physical reminder of the price our country has paid not only for our freedom, but for the freedom of so many others. That is something we as Americans do well. We see the value of liberty and it makes us hardheaded. We don't settle for less.
When it comes down to it, our freedoms were bought with the lives of men who were willing to lay down their own to prevent their families and their descendants from having to live under brutal tyranny. America was colonized originally for religious freedom. Our ancestors came here where they could be free to worship without fear of persecution. Eventually, that persecution followed them with the British rule. King George set up colonies in what eventually become the original 13 states. The people were made to believe that they were being equally represented in the British parliament. When it became apparent that that was not the case, they fought back. Initially, their fighting was in small demonstrations...if you call things like the Boston Tea Party small. King George levied taxes and established laws that our forefathers did not have a hand in making. Now, they could have chosen to wait it out and hope that things would get better. They knew, as so many of us still know, that government should be of the people, by the people, and for the people and that a monarch an entire ocean away was not what was right. They wanted freedom.
On July 4th, 1776, the first continental congress signed a Declaration of Independence. In it, they listed everything that had been done that had forced them into making such a decision. They also listed their belief that all men are created equal and are endowed with certain rights that no one had any right in taking from them. The most amazing thing to me is that these men didn't just arbitrarily decide to plunge their fellow Americans into war without trying other avenues first. They'd tried for several years to get King George to work with them. Like Pharaoh and the Hebrews, King George was not interested in negotiating. So they did the only thing they could do. They cut ties and fought for Independence.
In the 1700s, warfare was much less, and in some cases much more, sophisticated than our current methods. At the time, the colonies didn't have a professional army or navy. They relied on militiamen. In my mind, that was probably the best thing they could have done. A man fighting for his family and his home is much more determined to succeed than a soldier simply being paid to fight. A regular army was formed on June 14, 1775. The Continental Congress appointed George Washington as its Commander-In-Chief. Washington knew the value of militia and utilized them for short stints while coordinating his own army. On November 10, 1775, the United States Marine Corps was formed at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia. At the beginning of 1776, Washington's army had 20,000 men, one-third of which were state militia. 20,000 men volunteered and fought for freedom against the much more rigorously trained British redcoats. Before the end of the war, 250,000 men served as regulars or militiamen during the eight years of the wars duration. Think about it. Right now, that's not a lot of people in a war. At the time? That's incredible.
Eight years after a handful of men took the initial step toward freedom, the British were defeated and we were free. We established our own form of government and adopted a constitution of rights and laws. Throughout history, our country has fought many times to maintain that hard earned freedom. In 1812, we again went to war with the British. In 1860, South Carolina seceded from the union and was quickly followed a month later by many other Southern states, beginning the most devastating war in our history. More American lives were lost in the Civil War than all the other wars combined. Brother fought brother. Each side believed they were in the right. Our constitution was put to the test. Are all men created equal no matter his color? Again, thanks to men willing to lay down their lives for the freedom of others, that questioned was answered with a resounding Yes!
Irony is a funny thing. In the early 20th century, Germany declared war on the world. Old grudges were momentarily laid aside and the United States of America came to the aid of all European countries and fought for their freedom. This action was repeated when Hitler took control of Germany and declared war on the world for a second time. The United States was understandably leery of joining, but did so enthusiastically when Japan sucker-punched us on December 7, 1941. Try as they might though, they were unable to defend against the countless numbers of men and women who heeded the call for soldiers to fight for freedom. So many of that generation went willingly into battle, knowing the likelihood of their own return home was not great, but doing it anyway. They knew that freedom isn't free and were willing to pay the price. Many of them did.
Our country has fought for others freedoms many times since then. My grandfather fought in Korea with the Marine Corps. We fought for the South Vietnamese. We fought for the Iraqis twice. Seeing a pattern?
Our country and our people are the home of the free BECAUSE of the brave. Men and women of valor have stood up to tyranny and injustice and fought back and won on countless occasions. Think about that the next time you see a flag waving or sing the national anthem.
The Star-Spangled Banner Verse 3:
Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
I am a history nerd. I love learning about history. When my family lived in Bosnia, we got to tour some places in Europe. My favorite place? The bunkers on the beaches outside of Dunkirk that were used by the Germans in World War II. I thought it was just so cool to be standing in a physical reminder of the price our country has paid not only for our freedom, but for the freedom of so many others. That is something we as Americans do well. We see the value of liberty and it makes us hardheaded. We don't settle for less.
When it comes down to it, our freedoms were bought with the lives of men who were willing to lay down their own to prevent their families and their descendants from having to live under brutal tyranny. America was colonized originally for religious freedom. Our ancestors came here where they could be free to worship without fear of persecution. Eventually, that persecution followed them with the British rule. King George set up colonies in what eventually become the original 13 states. The people were made to believe that they were being equally represented in the British parliament. When it became apparent that that was not the case, they fought back. Initially, their fighting was in small demonstrations...if you call things like the Boston Tea Party small. King George levied taxes and established laws that our forefathers did not have a hand in making. Now, they could have chosen to wait it out and hope that things would get better. They knew, as so many of us still know, that government should be of the people, by the people, and for the people and that a monarch an entire ocean away was not what was right. They wanted freedom.
On July 4th, 1776, the first continental congress signed a Declaration of Independence. In it, they listed everything that had been done that had forced them into making such a decision. They also listed their belief that all men are created equal and are endowed with certain rights that no one had any right in taking from them. The most amazing thing to me is that these men didn't just arbitrarily decide to plunge their fellow Americans into war without trying other avenues first. They'd tried for several years to get King George to work with them. Like Pharaoh and the Hebrews, King George was not interested in negotiating. So they did the only thing they could do. They cut ties and fought for Independence.
In the 1700s, warfare was much less, and in some cases much more, sophisticated than our current methods. At the time, the colonies didn't have a professional army or navy. They relied on militiamen. In my mind, that was probably the best thing they could have done. A man fighting for his family and his home is much more determined to succeed than a soldier simply being paid to fight. A regular army was formed on June 14, 1775. The Continental Congress appointed George Washington as its Commander-In-Chief. Washington knew the value of militia and utilized them for short stints while coordinating his own army. On November 10, 1775, the United States Marine Corps was formed at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia. At the beginning of 1776, Washington's army had 20,000 men, one-third of which were state militia. 20,000 men volunteered and fought for freedom against the much more rigorously trained British redcoats. Before the end of the war, 250,000 men served as regulars or militiamen during the eight years of the wars duration. Think about it. Right now, that's not a lot of people in a war. At the time? That's incredible.
Eight years after a handful of men took the initial step toward freedom, the British were defeated and we were free. We established our own form of government and adopted a constitution of rights and laws. Throughout history, our country has fought many times to maintain that hard earned freedom. In 1812, we again went to war with the British. In 1860, South Carolina seceded from the union and was quickly followed a month later by many other Southern states, beginning the most devastating war in our history. More American lives were lost in the Civil War than all the other wars combined. Brother fought brother. Each side believed they were in the right. Our constitution was put to the test. Are all men created equal no matter his color? Again, thanks to men willing to lay down their lives for the freedom of others, that questioned was answered with a resounding Yes!
Irony is a funny thing. In the early 20th century, Germany declared war on the world. Old grudges were momentarily laid aside and the United States of America came to the aid of all European countries and fought for their freedom. This action was repeated when Hitler took control of Germany and declared war on the world for a second time. The United States was understandably leery of joining, but did so enthusiastically when Japan sucker-punched us on December 7, 1941. Try as they might though, they were unable to defend against the countless numbers of men and women who heeded the call for soldiers to fight for freedom. So many of that generation went willingly into battle, knowing the likelihood of their own return home was not great, but doing it anyway. They knew that freedom isn't free and were willing to pay the price. Many of them did.
Our country has fought for others freedoms many times since then. My grandfather fought in Korea with the Marine Corps. We fought for the South Vietnamese. We fought for the Iraqis twice. Seeing a pattern?
Our country and our people are the home of the free BECAUSE of the brave. Men and women of valor have stood up to tyranny and injustice and fought back and won on countless occasions. Think about that the next time you see a flag waving or sing the national anthem.
The Star-Spangled Banner Verse 3:
Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Modesty
Ok. So, I am more than positive that most of anyone who read last weeks blog didn't really agree with what I said. I'm ok with that. Mostly because I don't think I explained myself very well. I think that regularly of my posts here. This week is, I think, a little more straightforward.
Modesty is a big issue for this generation and it continues to grow with each passing generation. The issue? We have no modesty. There are a few different ways you can interpret modesty, but the most straightforward way is the one I want to talk about. Modesty in regards to our physical appearance is a thing of the past...or so everyone seems to think.
Growing up, I remember being instructed on what modesty was. I didn't really understand what being immodest does and how it affects people, but have since learned the older I've gotten. I've learned that dressing (or not dressing as the case may be) a certain way can alter someone's perception of you entirely. That alteration has potential to be either a very good thing or a very bad thing.
Middle school was when the other girls my age began wearing less modest clothing. Middle school is when we really start to become aware that there is a definite difference between boys and girls. Puberty hits everyone. Cracking voices and the beginnings of raging hormones rule the school. That's also when we start being given a little bit of independence. I remember watching as many other girls in my grade chose to wear less modest clothing and because most of them were more popular than me, that's what I wanted to do. Unfortunately, or fortunately however you want to put it, the clothing they wore was fairly well forbidden in my house. My parents had pretty strict rules about modesty that I tried more than once to bend. Which, on a side note, is kind of interesting because I think skimpy clothing is meant to show off...and at thirteen, most girls don't really have anything to show off. Seems to be rather stupid if you ask me.
As my life has progressed, the value of modesty has regressed. I have witnessed little girls running around in very little clothing; ie low cut spaghetti straps, mid riff baring tanks, and Daisy Dukes and mini skirts. When I say little girls, I mean four and five year olds. Kind of silly, huh?
Don't get me wrong. I would completely fight against the high necks, long sleeves, and long dresses of days past. I live in Texas! There's no way I'd be willing to walk around in the summer heat in an outfit like that. I don't, however, believe we are doing anyone any favors by allowing our children to "learn" about sex appeal before they can even read.
Modesty is a beautiful thing. I applaud anyone who can remain modest in the society we live in. It can be very difficult to find clothing that won't reaveal everything to everyone. I'm not disputing that. In the long run, it's very worth it. I don't think women in general, but especially younger women really understand the power they have over men. Some know and don't care. Little girls definitely don't know.
I think that when we dress them in more revealing clothing, we think it's harmless. "They're little girls. No one is going to objectify a little girl and look at her like she's a sex object." ...Excuse me?! What planet are you living on?! There are so many stories of sick, sick people doing horrific things to little girls. I'm not saying it only happens to girls who are less modest cause I don't believe that in the least. I do think that, even if nothing bad happens to them when they're young, we are setting them up for failure.
I have been on both sides. There was about a year and a half where I didn't really care about anything of any importance. I did what I wanted and it generally didn't involve I would care to repeat in mixed company. I was one of the girls who'd been raised with a sense of modesty. I knew what was inappropriate to wear. I figured out really quickly why it was forbidden at home. I learned why my parents had taught me to dress in a way that left some of my figure to the imagination. The opposite turned guys around me into submissive idiots at times and then demanding jerks at others. I knew how to use my sex appeal to my advantage and it almost always involved revealing clothing.
So there is no doubt about what immodesty does to the male species, let me lay it out for you. I don't mean to get biblical, so forgive me if that's how this sounds. Men and women were created with the ability to have children. Our bodies were specifically designed for that. We were also given urges that can be very difficult to control sometimes. As one who's lost control on more than one occassion, I can vouch for that difficulty. Immodesty makes it all the more difficult. That's just the way we are designed. It's hard for anyone to concentrate when there is so little left to the imagination. I don't mean just girls either.
The point I'm trying to make is that our children become what we teach them to be. If we teach them that it's ok to walk around in almost nothing, what do you think their future attitude will be? Why do you think sexting is so accepted now? Kids have no concept of the value of modesty because we don't teach it to them. Why are we allowing them to think it's ok to look like a hooker at the age of 5?
Modesty is a big issue for this generation and it continues to grow with each passing generation. The issue? We have no modesty. There are a few different ways you can interpret modesty, but the most straightforward way is the one I want to talk about. Modesty in regards to our physical appearance is a thing of the past...or so everyone seems to think.
Growing up, I remember being instructed on what modesty was. I didn't really understand what being immodest does and how it affects people, but have since learned the older I've gotten. I've learned that dressing (or not dressing as the case may be) a certain way can alter someone's perception of you entirely. That alteration has potential to be either a very good thing or a very bad thing.
Middle school was when the other girls my age began wearing less modest clothing. Middle school is when we really start to become aware that there is a definite difference between boys and girls. Puberty hits everyone. Cracking voices and the beginnings of raging hormones rule the school. That's also when we start being given a little bit of independence. I remember watching as many other girls in my grade chose to wear less modest clothing and because most of them were more popular than me, that's what I wanted to do. Unfortunately, or fortunately however you want to put it, the clothing they wore was fairly well forbidden in my house. My parents had pretty strict rules about modesty that I tried more than once to bend. Which, on a side note, is kind of interesting because I think skimpy clothing is meant to show off...and at thirteen, most girls don't really have anything to show off. Seems to be rather stupid if you ask me.
As my life has progressed, the value of modesty has regressed. I have witnessed little girls running around in very little clothing; ie low cut spaghetti straps, mid riff baring tanks, and Daisy Dukes and mini skirts. When I say little girls, I mean four and five year olds. Kind of silly, huh?
Don't get me wrong. I would completely fight against the high necks, long sleeves, and long dresses of days past. I live in Texas! There's no way I'd be willing to walk around in the summer heat in an outfit like that. I don't, however, believe we are doing anyone any favors by allowing our children to "learn" about sex appeal before they can even read.
Modesty is a beautiful thing. I applaud anyone who can remain modest in the society we live in. It can be very difficult to find clothing that won't reaveal everything to everyone. I'm not disputing that. In the long run, it's very worth it. I don't think women in general, but especially younger women really understand the power they have over men. Some know and don't care. Little girls definitely don't know.
I think that when we dress them in more revealing clothing, we think it's harmless. "They're little girls. No one is going to objectify a little girl and look at her like she's a sex object." ...Excuse me?! What planet are you living on?! There are so many stories of sick, sick people doing horrific things to little girls. I'm not saying it only happens to girls who are less modest cause I don't believe that in the least. I do think that, even if nothing bad happens to them when they're young, we are setting them up for failure.
I have been on both sides. There was about a year and a half where I didn't really care about anything of any importance. I did what I wanted and it generally didn't involve I would care to repeat in mixed company. I was one of the girls who'd been raised with a sense of modesty. I knew what was inappropriate to wear. I figured out really quickly why it was forbidden at home. I learned why my parents had taught me to dress in a way that left some of my figure to the imagination. The opposite turned guys around me into submissive idiots at times and then demanding jerks at others. I knew how to use my sex appeal to my advantage and it almost always involved revealing clothing.
So there is no doubt about what immodesty does to the male species, let me lay it out for you. I don't mean to get biblical, so forgive me if that's how this sounds. Men and women were created with the ability to have children. Our bodies were specifically designed for that. We were also given urges that can be very difficult to control sometimes. As one who's lost control on more than one occassion, I can vouch for that difficulty. Immodesty makes it all the more difficult. That's just the way we are designed. It's hard for anyone to concentrate when there is so little left to the imagination. I don't mean just girls either.
The point I'm trying to make is that our children become what we teach them to be. If we teach them that it's ok to walk around in almost nothing, what do you think their future attitude will be? Why do you think sexting is so accepted now? Kids have no concept of the value of modesty because we don't teach it to them. Why are we allowing them to think it's ok to look like a hooker at the age of 5?
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Birth Mother's Day
Normally for these posts, I have a hard time deciding what to write about. Today...not so much. It's an important weekend for mothers everywhere. It is the first full weekend of May which means Mother's Day is tomorrow. Normally, you'd think that's what I would write about. While I have full intentions of writing about it tomorrow, There's an important topic for discussion today. Not many people are aware of it, but the day before Mother's Day has been designated in recent years as Birth Mother's Day.
I guess a proper definition of Birth Mother is probably required. A birth mother is a woman who gave birth and placed her child in another woman's arms to raise. She is a woman who cannot, for one reason or another, raise her child herself. She has so much love for her child that she wants what's best and places her child with someone else.
I've had a bit of trepidation about this day. Personally, I didn't like thinking that we were any different from regular moms. I'm still not too fond of it, but I see the reasoning behind it. Birth mothers are, by definition, different. Having a day set aside that is separate from Mother's day is a way for some people to acknowledge the sacrifice made by every birth mother. Kind of like Veteran's Day or Memorial Day. Some of the girls who are birth mothers need that kind of recognition. I'm not really one of them.
My story has been an open book since it happened. At first, when I would tell people I'd placed my daughter in another woman's arms to raise, it was for sympathy. I wanted people to feel sorry for me. I wasn't ready to forgive myself for what I had perceived I'd "done", so their admiration for this great feat I'd accomplished acted as a buffer. That has since changed, thankfully. I tell my story so other people will understand something they might not have before. I mentioned a little bit of it in my post about abortion and I want to fill in some gaps now. I will try not to be too terribly long winded, but this is a story that takes some explaining.
Naturally, there are some aspects that I won't lay bare simply because they are things I don't think people want to know. However, this all started around February of 2005. I was spending a lot of time with a new friend who was a convert to the church. She'd just begun attending the local singles ward and we'd hit it off really well. She stayed at my house all the time. Around February, she told me her dog had had puppies and invited me to go see them. The puppies were at the house of the family she'd lived with when she joined the church. She's left her dog there when she moved out so that's where the puppies were. That was where I first met Josh.
I'd heard rumors about Josh at church. His brother was in my Sunday School class and rumors followed the family everywhere. Most of them were about Josh and most of them were not favorable. My friend warned me after I met him that Josh was trouble. I chose to give him a chance rather than listen to what other people had to say about him. I played the part of girl-who-thinks-she-can-change-a-guy perfectly. You see, Josh was a drug addict. I'm not talking a little weed here and there. I'm talking hard core crystal meth. For anyone who doesn't know, crystal meth is "poor man's cocaine". It's made from things like battery acid and the household cleaners you find under your sink. Gross. I know.
When we started dating, we started misbehaving. We were being immoral from day one. I could go into a lot of detail about why I stayed with him for almost a full year and why I gave him the most precious thing I could give a man, but that would take a while and I'm sure you don't want to read a therapy report. The abbreviated version is I have a very loving heart. I was crushed by the realization of what I'd given up and felt like I could no longer do any better or offer anyone else anything in regards to love. I stayed with him for that reason. I didn't think anyone else, meaning any other man, would ever want me. This at the age of 19. From the beginning, Josh and his mom told me that the doctors had told them he would never father children. Looking back, I'm not sure I believe that. Either way, we didn't use protection and were ok for nearly a year. In November of 2005, right after my older brother got home from his mission to the Phillipines, I started getting morning sickness.
I knew two weeks before I actually went to confirm with a doctor that I was pregnant. I think my parents knew too. Josh was in rehab and I was beyond terrified of what I was going to have to face. I'm a passive person by nature anyway so having to deal with what I saw as a MASSIVE confrontation scared the pooey out of me. I asked my mom to come with me to the appointment because I was so scared. In retrospect, I'm not sure that was the best idea, but you can't really plan for these things. Here's the disclaimer for this post: My family is amazing. There is no handbook on how to deal with finding out your child is expecting his/her own child, and it's not really a joyous thing when the situation is what mine was. They handled it the best the could and did remarkably well considering the circumstances.
When the doctor said the test was positive, I just about died. I remember not hearing much after she said that. Everything went fuzzy. I remember getting in the car and seeing that my mom was on the phone talking to LDS Social Services. I had much less control over my emotions when I was younger anyway, but compounded with pregnancy and I was the Texas Giant of roller coasters. Mom was the Stake Relief Society president at the time and called the director of the LDSS branch in Carrollton. She called him directly and told him she had a daughter that would be coming to see him soon. I'm a red head. We skip angry and go straight to livid. I didn't want anyone planning my future and still have a bad habit of bucking against what someone tells me I should do, even if it's good for me. I was so focused on who was right that I forgot to pay attention to what was right. There were a lot of fights and a lot of tearful discussions between me and my parents about what should be done. We held off telling my siblings for a few weeks, but we all understood that we wouldn't be able to hide it for long.
I am trying to be abbreviated, but I think this part of the story is worth telling. It demonstrates just how blessed I am with the siblings I have: We had a family meeting where I sort of blurted out that I was pregnant and Dad asked everyone how they felt. It took a lot of years for my older brother and I to see eye to eye on what happened, but we are on the same wave length now. At the time, he had an interesting way of saying he hoped that I would learn my lesson and never make this mistake again. My sister was an angel and told me she would support me no matter what I decided to do. It was my younger brothers' reactions that blew me away. As soon as I said that I was pregnant, all three of my younger brothers reached out to physically offer their support in whatever way they could. Rayo held my left hand, Remi wrapped his arms around my legs, and Nick got up and sat next to me, laying his head on my shoulder. When it was their turn to share how they felt, all three of them said they would help me with anything I decided to do. Rayo said he and Nick would share their room with the baby and keep it clean and help get up in the middle of the night to feed what they immediately dubbed as Tiny Tim. Yeah. I didn't ask them to do that and neither did anyone else. They offered.
Ok. So fast forward a little. A few months later we found out that Tiny Tim was actually a Tiny Tina. I broke up with Josh, finally, and things settled into a semi routine. I was still leary of adoption and chose not to choose anything. I avoided making any decision about the baby for as long as I could. When Josh started threatening violence to me and my family, things started happening.
My foster brother, Mike, married into a wonderful family. I love his wife and her family so much. Her mom in particular has been a unfailing rock for me. She works with an adoption agency in Utah. When Mike found out I was pregnant, he put Karen on my path. She tried calling me a few times and I resisted. I finally relented around the beginning of May 2006. She got me connected with the office and it was decided that for my protection and the protection of my daughter and my family, I would move to Utah for the last three months of my pregnancy.
The move to Utah was emotional, but so was everything about the situation I'd found myself in. I hadn't really decided for myself that adoption was what I wanted, but I am passive. Remember? I did what I was told. Mom wanted me to go to therapy with their counselor because it was offered and it was free. I resisted. She had dad talk to me for two hours. Honestly, I don't remember much about the conversation except that I wanted it to be over. I do remember agreeing to go at the end so I could end the call. Sorry, dad. But, I made a promise. So I called the agency and set up an appointment to go see Theresa. The first question she asked me was why I'd gone to therapy. I told her that I'd promised my parents I'd go. She told me later that she knew right then I was a special case and that I was going to eventually be fine. I'd told her a truth right from the beginning.
Being pregnant and single is not easy. I had a lot of free time on my hands to think and do nothing. Somehow, the agency took a special interest in me. I found out I was the first topic of discussion at almost every board meeting for the entire month I was there. They wanted to make sure I was involved in the activities they set up for the other birth mothers there. I wanted none of it and Theresa knew it. She told them, in no uncertain terms, that they were not allowed to push me to do anything I didn't want to do. She knew I was being pushed and pulled by everyone and she wouldn't allow anyone else to do any more.
Fast forward again. At the beginning of August, I had still not chosen a family to place my child with. I hadn't found the one I felt fit the best. I'd made two selections already, but the first one declined and the second couldn't afford the private agency. Theresa showed me a portfolio of a family who'd submitted their packets a week before. They'd been planning on adopting from China and, for then unknown reason, had had duplicate, notorized copies of all their paperwork made. Things that normally would have taken months were set and ready for me to choose them when I got their profile. I thought about them for a week before actually choosing them.
Last fast forward. I can't tell you what it's like to carry a life inside you for nine months and then finally meet that little person. Mom flew in barely in time for me to go into labor...we're talking like, three hours before labor started was when she landed. I'd made a promise to wait for her and Karen (not like I have ANY control over that) and I did just that. When mom got there, that was it. She was ready to come out. She was done waiting. Mom, Karen, and Theresa were in the delivery room when it came time for Liza to be born. It took some doing, because I had an epidural, but Liza was born just before 11 pm on September 3, 2006. You know those movies where a woman gives birth and then falls back and starts crying? That was me. I was relieved that the physical pain was over. Yeah. Not so much. I chose to hold my baby girl and spend as much time with her as I could. Mike came and took baby pictures in the hospital at 2 in the morning for me. Mom got to spend some time with her and so did Karen. My older brother and Mikes family also got to come to the hospital and see my baby girl.
The rest of the physical pain that I alluded too began when the adoptive family came to the hospital to meet me and Liza for the first time. That's when it started hitting me. I could feel what was coming like it was a Mack truck hauling logs going 80 miles an hour. So, I left the hospital and had to leave her there overnight. They had to run some tests and I didn't think I would have to check her out. Two days after she was born, the day after I was released, I signed relinquishment. I got a call later that afternoon, when I was visiting with a very dear friend, Leslie, asking me to go back to the hospital to check her out. I asked if we could have a little more time with her. Luckily, my nurse from the last two days was there and had no problem letting me see her for 45 minutes. She slept on my chest the whole time, curled up and content to listen to me talk. At the end of that 45 minutes...that's when the worst hurt happened. I started crying when they said it was time to go. It took everything I had to put that little girl back in the hospital bed. When I finally pulled her head away from my chest, it literally felt like I was tearing a hole in my chest and my heart was going with her. I felt like I was drowning. The nurse saw what was happening and pulled me into as tight a hug as she could manage. She said, "I don't even know you that well, and I love you so much."
My recovery took years. There is a whole two months of 2006 that I don't remember. I took a nose dive for a full two years and it took me a long time to pull myself out of the trouble I went looking for. Now, almost five years later, I am a lot happier than I've ever been. Being a birth mother sets me apart from a lot of people, but not in a bad way. I have learned a great deal about myself. I've also been able to give life to an incredible little girl and a little girl to a family who couldn't have any more kids. There's still a stigma against adoption, sadly. Maybe that's why they created Birth Mother's day. Either way, speaking as someone who's been there, giving a child up for adoption is not taking the easy way out. It's something you live with for the rest of your life. It's not something you forget. It's an act of love. Pure and simple. We do it because we love our children so much. They deserve everything we can give them. Sometimes, the best thing for a child, is not us.
I hope that this has enlightened someone. I know it'll probably be shocking for some that I put my story on such a public forum, so please forgive me for shocking you. I want people to understand and the way I explain is through story telling. Now you know what it means to be a birth mother. We really aren't so different. We just made different choices.
I guess a proper definition of Birth Mother is probably required. A birth mother is a woman who gave birth and placed her child in another woman's arms to raise. She is a woman who cannot, for one reason or another, raise her child herself. She has so much love for her child that she wants what's best and places her child with someone else.
I've had a bit of trepidation about this day. Personally, I didn't like thinking that we were any different from regular moms. I'm still not too fond of it, but I see the reasoning behind it. Birth mothers are, by definition, different. Having a day set aside that is separate from Mother's day is a way for some people to acknowledge the sacrifice made by every birth mother. Kind of like Veteran's Day or Memorial Day. Some of the girls who are birth mothers need that kind of recognition. I'm not really one of them.
My story has been an open book since it happened. At first, when I would tell people I'd placed my daughter in another woman's arms to raise, it was for sympathy. I wanted people to feel sorry for me. I wasn't ready to forgive myself for what I had perceived I'd "done", so their admiration for this great feat I'd accomplished acted as a buffer. That has since changed, thankfully. I tell my story so other people will understand something they might not have before. I mentioned a little bit of it in my post about abortion and I want to fill in some gaps now. I will try not to be too terribly long winded, but this is a story that takes some explaining.
Naturally, there are some aspects that I won't lay bare simply because they are things I don't think people want to know. However, this all started around February of 2005. I was spending a lot of time with a new friend who was a convert to the church. She'd just begun attending the local singles ward and we'd hit it off really well. She stayed at my house all the time. Around February, she told me her dog had had puppies and invited me to go see them. The puppies were at the house of the family she'd lived with when she joined the church. She's left her dog there when she moved out so that's where the puppies were. That was where I first met Josh.
I'd heard rumors about Josh at church. His brother was in my Sunday School class and rumors followed the family everywhere. Most of them were about Josh and most of them were not favorable. My friend warned me after I met him that Josh was trouble. I chose to give him a chance rather than listen to what other people had to say about him. I played the part of girl-who-thinks-she-can-change-a-guy perfectly. You see, Josh was a drug addict. I'm not talking a little weed here and there. I'm talking hard core crystal meth. For anyone who doesn't know, crystal meth is "poor man's cocaine". It's made from things like battery acid and the household cleaners you find under your sink. Gross. I know.
When we started dating, we started misbehaving. We were being immoral from day one. I could go into a lot of detail about why I stayed with him for almost a full year and why I gave him the most precious thing I could give a man, but that would take a while and I'm sure you don't want to read a therapy report. The abbreviated version is I have a very loving heart. I was crushed by the realization of what I'd given up and felt like I could no longer do any better or offer anyone else anything in regards to love. I stayed with him for that reason. I didn't think anyone else, meaning any other man, would ever want me. This at the age of 19. From the beginning, Josh and his mom told me that the doctors had told them he would never father children. Looking back, I'm not sure I believe that. Either way, we didn't use protection and were ok for nearly a year. In November of 2005, right after my older brother got home from his mission to the Phillipines, I started getting morning sickness.
I knew two weeks before I actually went to confirm with a doctor that I was pregnant. I think my parents knew too. Josh was in rehab and I was beyond terrified of what I was going to have to face. I'm a passive person by nature anyway so having to deal with what I saw as a MASSIVE confrontation scared the pooey out of me. I asked my mom to come with me to the appointment because I was so scared. In retrospect, I'm not sure that was the best idea, but you can't really plan for these things. Here's the disclaimer for this post: My family is amazing. There is no handbook on how to deal with finding out your child is expecting his/her own child, and it's not really a joyous thing when the situation is what mine was. They handled it the best the could and did remarkably well considering the circumstances.
When the doctor said the test was positive, I just about died. I remember not hearing much after she said that. Everything went fuzzy. I remember getting in the car and seeing that my mom was on the phone talking to LDS Social Services. I had much less control over my emotions when I was younger anyway, but compounded with pregnancy and I was the Texas Giant of roller coasters. Mom was the Stake Relief Society president at the time and called the director of the LDSS branch in Carrollton. She called him directly and told him she had a daughter that would be coming to see him soon. I'm a red head. We skip angry and go straight to livid. I didn't want anyone planning my future and still have a bad habit of bucking against what someone tells me I should do, even if it's good for me. I was so focused on who was right that I forgot to pay attention to what was right. There were a lot of fights and a lot of tearful discussions between me and my parents about what should be done. We held off telling my siblings for a few weeks, but we all understood that we wouldn't be able to hide it for long.
I am trying to be abbreviated, but I think this part of the story is worth telling. It demonstrates just how blessed I am with the siblings I have: We had a family meeting where I sort of blurted out that I was pregnant and Dad asked everyone how they felt. It took a lot of years for my older brother and I to see eye to eye on what happened, but we are on the same wave length now. At the time, he had an interesting way of saying he hoped that I would learn my lesson and never make this mistake again. My sister was an angel and told me she would support me no matter what I decided to do. It was my younger brothers' reactions that blew me away. As soon as I said that I was pregnant, all three of my younger brothers reached out to physically offer their support in whatever way they could. Rayo held my left hand, Remi wrapped his arms around my legs, and Nick got up and sat next to me, laying his head on my shoulder. When it was their turn to share how they felt, all three of them said they would help me with anything I decided to do. Rayo said he and Nick would share their room with the baby and keep it clean and help get up in the middle of the night to feed what they immediately dubbed as Tiny Tim. Yeah. I didn't ask them to do that and neither did anyone else. They offered.
Ok. So fast forward a little. A few months later we found out that Tiny Tim was actually a Tiny Tina. I broke up with Josh, finally, and things settled into a semi routine. I was still leary of adoption and chose not to choose anything. I avoided making any decision about the baby for as long as I could. When Josh started threatening violence to me and my family, things started happening.
My foster brother, Mike, married into a wonderful family. I love his wife and her family so much. Her mom in particular has been a unfailing rock for me. She works with an adoption agency in Utah. When Mike found out I was pregnant, he put Karen on my path. She tried calling me a few times and I resisted. I finally relented around the beginning of May 2006. She got me connected with the office and it was decided that for my protection and the protection of my daughter and my family, I would move to Utah for the last three months of my pregnancy.
The move to Utah was emotional, but so was everything about the situation I'd found myself in. I hadn't really decided for myself that adoption was what I wanted, but I am passive. Remember? I did what I was told. Mom wanted me to go to therapy with their counselor because it was offered and it was free. I resisted. She had dad talk to me for two hours. Honestly, I don't remember much about the conversation except that I wanted it to be over. I do remember agreeing to go at the end so I could end the call. Sorry, dad. But, I made a promise. So I called the agency and set up an appointment to go see Theresa. The first question she asked me was why I'd gone to therapy. I told her that I'd promised my parents I'd go. She told me later that she knew right then I was a special case and that I was going to eventually be fine. I'd told her a truth right from the beginning.
Being pregnant and single is not easy. I had a lot of free time on my hands to think and do nothing. Somehow, the agency took a special interest in me. I found out I was the first topic of discussion at almost every board meeting for the entire month I was there. They wanted to make sure I was involved in the activities they set up for the other birth mothers there. I wanted none of it and Theresa knew it. She told them, in no uncertain terms, that they were not allowed to push me to do anything I didn't want to do. She knew I was being pushed and pulled by everyone and she wouldn't allow anyone else to do any more.
Fast forward again. At the beginning of August, I had still not chosen a family to place my child with. I hadn't found the one I felt fit the best. I'd made two selections already, but the first one declined and the second couldn't afford the private agency. Theresa showed me a portfolio of a family who'd submitted their packets a week before. They'd been planning on adopting from China and, for then unknown reason, had had duplicate, notorized copies of all their paperwork made. Things that normally would have taken months were set and ready for me to choose them when I got their profile. I thought about them for a week before actually choosing them.
Last fast forward. I can't tell you what it's like to carry a life inside you for nine months and then finally meet that little person. Mom flew in barely in time for me to go into labor...we're talking like, three hours before labor started was when she landed. I'd made a promise to wait for her and Karen (not like I have ANY control over that) and I did just that. When mom got there, that was it. She was ready to come out. She was done waiting. Mom, Karen, and Theresa were in the delivery room when it came time for Liza to be born. It took some doing, because I had an epidural, but Liza was born just before 11 pm on September 3, 2006. You know those movies where a woman gives birth and then falls back and starts crying? That was me. I was relieved that the physical pain was over. Yeah. Not so much. I chose to hold my baby girl and spend as much time with her as I could. Mike came and took baby pictures in the hospital at 2 in the morning for me. Mom got to spend some time with her and so did Karen. My older brother and Mikes family also got to come to the hospital and see my baby girl.
The rest of the physical pain that I alluded too began when the adoptive family came to the hospital to meet me and Liza for the first time. That's when it started hitting me. I could feel what was coming like it was a Mack truck hauling logs going 80 miles an hour. So, I left the hospital and had to leave her there overnight. They had to run some tests and I didn't think I would have to check her out. Two days after she was born, the day after I was released, I signed relinquishment. I got a call later that afternoon, when I was visiting with a very dear friend, Leslie, asking me to go back to the hospital to check her out. I asked if we could have a little more time with her. Luckily, my nurse from the last two days was there and had no problem letting me see her for 45 minutes. She slept on my chest the whole time, curled up and content to listen to me talk. At the end of that 45 minutes...that's when the worst hurt happened. I started crying when they said it was time to go. It took everything I had to put that little girl back in the hospital bed. When I finally pulled her head away from my chest, it literally felt like I was tearing a hole in my chest and my heart was going with her. I felt like I was drowning. The nurse saw what was happening and pulled me into as tight a hug as she could manage. She said, "I don't even know you that well, and I love you so much."
My recovery took years. There is a whole two months of 2006 that I don't remember. I took a nose dive for a full two years and it took me a long time to pull myself out of the trouble I went looking for. Now, almost five years later, I am a lot happier than I've ever been. Being a birth mother sets me apart from a lot of people, but not in a bad way. I have learned a great deal about myself. I've also been able to give life to an incredible little girl and a little girl to a family who couldn't have any more kids. There's still a stigma against adoption, sadly. Maybe that's why they created Birth Mother's day. Either way, speaking as someone who's been there, giving a child up for adoption is not taking the easy way out. It's something you live with for the rest of your life. It's not something you forget. It's an act of love. Pure and simple. We do it because we love our children so much. They deserve everything we can give them. Sometimes, the best thing for a child, is not us.
I hope that this has enlightened someone. I know it'll probably be shocking for some that I put my story on such a public forum, so please forgive me for shocking you. I want people to understand and the way I explain is through story telling. Now you know what it means to be a birth mother. We really aren't so different. We just made different choices.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Communication
Epic fail for me. I started writing this post twice about two different subjects in the last two weeks and I didn't post either of them. I guess I was just waiting for something to really click. Hopefully I can pull it off this week.
The thing that's on my mind most this week is communication...or more specifically, the lack thereof. We have slowly begun to lose our ability to actually communicate things. We rely on our technological advances to assist us with communicating and we don't remember what it's like to say things face to face. Yeah. Huge problem.
Communication is essential to our success as people. We can't get anywhere in life without communicating with someone. We communicate with random people on a daily basis. We communicate with people at the grocery store, or at a restaurant, or through our jobs. That kind of communication is fairly easy. It doesn't make us delve any deeper than what's on the surface..."small talk". The communication I'm talking about is meaningful conversations with people we care about or that care about us. That kind of communication has been disappearing from our lives.
Think about the last time you had a real, in depth conversation with someone. Not the texting or over the phone kind of conversation, but the kind where you're sitting in a room together talking. It doesn't happen much anymore. That kind of contact is left to mobile phones and online social networking. We have "in-depth" conversations with our computers and phones. The question then becomes: why do we spend so much time texting, tweeting, and facebooking when we run much less risk of being misunderstood or misrepresented if we'd just visit with someone?
I think that we are losing our communication skills because we are losing our courage and becoming too dependent on devices that let us "stay connected". Let me start with the losing our courage part. I believe that we are losing courage because we don't have to use it anymore. I've always been taught, and have unfortunately had the chance to prove to myself, that if you don't use a gift, you lose the ability to use it. I play the piano. I find it difficult to play things that used to be easy if I don't practice with some form of regularity. Math? I hated it in school and dropped it outside of school. Now it's murder to try and do some of the things I was taught. The same holds true for courage.
Eleanor Roosevelt said: "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience by which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'" This kind of applies to communication and today's societal view of communication. When you're face-to-face with someone, you see every facet of their features. If you're good at it, you can tell what a person is thinking just by looking at them. Here's how it ties into courage: When you tell someone how you feel, you have to be witness to the reaction. Not every reaction is good. For me, communicating what I think and feel is difficult because I don't like making people unhappy, and that includes myself. The risk that someone will be hurt is always something I consider and why I often keep my mouth shut.
For example, I went to see an old friend of mine at the end of last year. It was on the way home from visiting my family in Utah, and I hadn't seen him in 11ish years. I was okay with just sitting and listening to him tell me about his life. He was not. He wanted me to talk about my own life. We had been interested in each other, as much as is possible at 13 and 14, and that played a part in what I was willing to say and what I was nervous to divulge. As a result, I spent a lot of the time trying to figure out what to say. The fact that I couldn't say anything was odd for both of us. Why? We'd reconnected on Facebook and had no problems talking over emails and text messages. We both said a lot then. In person, I was very aware of the risk I took by telling him anything that might have meant something. It was terrifying and I was afraid of his reaction. I chickened out. You're gonna laugh at me if you haven't already when I tell you what happened next. When I left, I sent him a text and told him I wasn't normally like that and that I owed him a better night next time I came through. I couldn't even tell him that when I was leaving. I had to wait until I was on my way home and there was no risk I might get hurt.
Don't worry. I'm laughing at myself.
The reasons I listed earlier for our lack of communicating abilities are kind of dependent on each other. I don't believe it's a good idea to blame a decline in our society on the advancement in technologies because I don't believe guns kill people. In my opinion, technology is like a gun. It is a tool that assists someone in doing something less than savory. In this case, because we are so dependent on our technology, it causes a loss in courage like I already discussed. Let me elaborate on the technology end a little even though I've already touched on it.
It is part of the human experience to experience what technology doesn't allow us to. What's the point of living a life where there is no confrontation or no reason to risk everything? That's what these social media and texting outlets are leading us too. In a world where we don't have to face someone and TALK to them, who would choose to do exactly that? It's much safer to hide behind a phone or a website. There is no chance of letting someone see the damage they've done that way. I, myself, am more inclined to say what I feel behind the safety of a phone or website. Realizing what I have in writing this and doing my research for it, that's not all I want to do anymore. There's a strange exhilaration in communicating the way we were meant too. I dare you too try it. Put aside your phone and your facebook and tell someone something important. It doesn't matter what the outcome is. The fact that you have courage enough to attempt it is all you're looking for. That way, the next time you need to talk to someone, you won't be afraid.
The thing that's on my mind most this week is communication...or more specifically, the lack thereof. We have slowly begun to lose our ability to actually communicate things. We rely on our technological advances to assist us with communicating and we don't remember what it's like to say things face to face. Yeah. Huge problem.
Communication is essential to our success as people. We can't get anywhere in life without communicating with someone. We communicate with random people on a daily basis. We communicate with people at the grocery store, or at a restaurant, or through our jobs. That kind of communication is fairly easy. It doesn't make us delve any deeper than what's on the surface..."small talk". The communication I'm talking about is meaningful conversations with people we care about or that care about us. That kind of communication has been disappearing from our lives.
Think about the last time you had a real, in depth conversation with someone. Not the texting or over the phone kind of conversation, but the kind where you're sitting in a room together talking. It doesn't happen much anymore. That kind of contact is left to mobile phones and online social networking. We have "in-depth" conversations with our computers and phones. The question then becomes: why do we spend so much time texting, tweeting, and facebooking when we run much less risk of being misunderstood or misrepresented if we'd just visit with someone?
I think that we are losing our communication skills because we are losing our courage and becoming too dependent on devices that let us "stay connected". Let me start with the losing our courage part. I believe that we are losing courage because we don't have to use it anymore. I've always been taught, and have unfortunately had the chance to prove to myself, that if you don't use a gift, you lose the ability to use it. I play the piano. I find it difficult to play things that used to be easy if I don't practice with some form of regularity. Math? I hated it in school and dropped it outside of school. Now it's murder to try and do some of the things I was taught. The same holds true for courage.
Eleanor Roosevelt said: "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience by which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'" This kind of applies to communication and today's societal view of communication. When you're face-to-face with someone, you see every facet of their features. If you're good at it, you can tell what a person is thinking just by looking at them. Here's how it ties into courage: When you tell someone how you feel, you have to be witness to the reaction. Not every reaction is good. For me, communicating what I think and feel is difficult because I don't like making people unhappy, and that includes myself. The risk that someone will be hurt is always something I consider and why I often keep my mouth shut.
For example, I went to see an old friend of mine at the end of last year. It was on the way home from visiting my family in Utah, and I hadn't seen him in 11ish years. I was okay with just sitting and listening to him tell me about his life. He was not. He wanted me to talk about my own life. We had been interested in each other, as much as is possible at 13 and 14, and that played a part in what I was willing to say and what I was nervous to divulge. As a result, I spent a lot of the time trying to figure out what to say. The fact that I couldn't say anything was odd for both of us. Why? We'd reconnected on Facebook and had no problems talking over emails and text messages. We both said a lot then. In person, I was very aware of the risk I took by telling him anything that might have meant something. It was terrifying and I was afraid of his reaction. I chickened out. You're gonna laugh at me if you haven't already when I tell you what happened next. When I left, I sent him a text and told him I wasn't normally like that and that I owed him a better night next time I came through. I couldn't even tell him that when I was leaving. I had to wait until I was on my way home and there was no risk I might get hurt.
Don't worry. I'm laughing at myself.
The reasons I listed earlier for our lack of communicating abilities are kind of dependent on each other. I don't believe it's a good idea to blame a decline in our society on the advancement in technologies because I don't believe guns kill people. In my opinion, technology is like a gun. It is a tool that assists someone in doing something less than savory. In this case, because we are so dependent on our technology, it causes a loss in courage like I already discussed. Let me elaborate on the technology end a little even though I've already touched on it.
- In 1900, telephones were scarce. It had been invented almost 30 years earlier, but phone lines didn't stretch the continent like they do now. They were becoming more prominent in major cities, but communication was still dependent on face to face and letter carriers.
- In 1915, Alexander Graham Bell made the first trans-continental phone call from New York to San Fransisco.
- In 1942, the first electronic digital computer was built by John Atanasoff and Clifford Berry
- In 1947, AT&T developed the North American Numbering Plan that assigned phone numbers to individuals. Meaning that was the birth of the 10-digit phone number.
- Also in 1947, the first mobile phones were invented though not sold commercially.
- In 1956, the first computer hard disk was used.
- In 1958, the computer modem was invented. That same year saw the invention of the integrated circuit.
- In 1959, Jack Kilby and Robert Noyce both invented the microchip.
- In 1962, Spacewar became the first computer video game invented.
- 1968 saw the invention of the first computer mouse by Douglas Engelbart, the first computer with integrated circuits, and random access memory (RAM) by Robert Dennard.
- In 1969, we saw the beginnings of the massive outlet that is the Internet in arpanet.
- In the 70's, we were given the floppy disk by Alan Shugart, the word processor, Pong the video game, the Ethernet cable by Robert Metcalfe and Xerox, cell phones and the cray supercomputer by Seymour Cray.
- Here's the list of advances in the 80's: MS-DOS and the IBM-PC were '81, The Apple Lisa in '83, the CD-ROM and the Apple Macintosh in '84, Windows by Microsoft in '85, and digital cell phones in '88.
- And finally, the '90's and 2000's: the World Wide Web, Internet protocol (HTTP), and WWW language (HTML) were created by Tim Berners-Lee in 1990; the first text message was sent in '92; the Pentium processor was invented in '93; the Java computer language and DVD were invented in '95. ; Web TV was '96; 2001 saw the creation of the iPod; Phone tooth by James Auger and Jimmy Loizeau came in 2002; Facebook by Mark Zuckerberg and Intel Express Chips were 2004; YouTube by Steve Chen, Chad Hurley, and Jawed Karim came into being in 2005;
It is part of the human experience to experience what technology doesn't allow us to. What's the point of living a life where there is no confrontation or no reason to risk everything? That's what these social media and texting outlets are leading us too. In a world where we don't have to face someone and TALK to them, who would choose to do exactly that? It's much safer to hide behind a phone or a website. There is no chance of letting someone see the damage they've done that way. I, myself, am more inclined to say what I feel behind the safety of a phone or website. Realizing what I have in writing this and doing my research for it, that's not all I want to do anymore. There's a strange exhilaration in communicating the way we were meant too. I dare you too try it. Put aside your phone and your facebook and tell someone something important. It doesn't matter what the outcome is. The fact that you have courage enough to attempt it is all you're looking for. That way, the next time you need to talk to someone, you won't be afraid.
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