I told my friend Irene yesterday that ONE person can make a difference. I’m sidelined because of personal tragedy and illness, but I have observed her tirelessly, relentlessly and determinedly stand up, speak up, rally, and sacrifice her privacy and time to voice the concerns that affect our children, educational institutions, environmental crisis, and the corruption that colors every level of our government and the corporations that rule the land. I have stood with her and been spat at, cursed, and even pushed, for expressing a differing political view. But the past week requires that I stand up for those words “ONE person can make a difference”. I know ultimately that it is one times one times one that makes the difference. The power of ONE multiplied will determine the change the majority of Americans so desperately seek.

At 5:36 this morning I was wrenched out of my sleep sweating like a runaway slave. My idle pencil levitated towards me as I reached for it. This night I couldn’t escape the face of the people in the nightmare that scared me from beneath my 1000 thread count sheets. It was my face that had fear in every area of the American dream. It was my face on the bodies that were being bullied in school, brutalized by police, surcharged by banks, utilities, corporations, that was under-educated, with little or no health care, and paying more money for less groceries as my wages shrank. It was my face that had lost my home, my face substituting water for milk and praying my children wouldn’t notice there would be no cereal tomorrow. A nightmare with my face begging the government and media, purporting to represent me, to shut up and listen. My face and my ears burned as I tried to find a station, newspaper or any form of media that would report the facts. My face was wet from tears and sweat as I jerked upright from my bed. How much more of the endless drivel of talking heads and castrated news journalist’s view points do we have to suffer before we are heard?

At 5:36 this morning I thanked God my dream was a nightmare, but for more than the 10% unemployed, and millions more underemployed, it is reality. I no longer have the luxury of leaving Irene to stand alone waiting for me to get well. So after my rude awakening, I am compelled now to speak to any media source courageous enough to understand that shoving biased, self serving, shallow statistical information disguised as news threatens your cushy life too. Have we become so hardened that we have forgotten that we are our brother’s keeper, and what affects ONE of us affects the entire human race?  We are tied together more now than ever because of technology.

I am awake and I am ONE of millions that you had better start to pay attention to as I multiply. So I am standing with Irene and the ONES all over this country who are sick and tired of the daily, hateful, vile, rhetoric morphing as news, and congress looking out for their interests before all else.

I am the ONE awakened this morning, who has a storyline that you must run for the good of us all. Stop standing on the sidelines while the country is being ravaged by greedy corporations, and the President of our country is defiled verbally and treated with flagrant disrespect by nit wits who want to be politicians, glorified journalists, and radio shock jocks. Do you have a clue what we look like to the rest of the world that we tend to think of as “less than we”? Hush and listen and you might feel the shame I do for us all. No one person, even the president, can make the changes Americans hunger for – but if for one day we tried to meet in the middle, we would be shocked by the progress. Hell, the president is even making progress while fighting a congressional body voted in by the people to help him pull us out of a recession and free fall in all areas of American life. Why not report the many things he has accomplished? Why not give him kudos and report the good he has done for our broken country the past eighteen months? What would be the harm in lifting him up and the country with him? Have we become a country that hides behind the two Cs, Constitution and Christianity? Knowing how to say and spell the words gives no one the right to lie, steal and misrepresent the American people and use the flag as a punctuation point. ONE is weary of it all. While you study, research, debate, and filibuster, our earth is languishing under oil spills, our rain forests are disappearing, the arctic ice is melting, and the erosion of our infrastructure dismissed as trash. Jails are being constructed faster then schools to house bodies for profit so corporate interest can continue to swell their coffers.

Listen up! The enemy isn’t the immigrant, or people that don’t look or act like Americans. The enemy is a journalist community and an ineffective government at every level that is taking care of their business and special interests while cherry picking what people they will represent. ONE is made up of all the people. I have had enough. I watch horrified and petrified as my country spirals down into something that resembles a cocktail of Iran, North Korea, drug cartels and the Taliban. Strong words, huh? Well read, tune in, or watch any source of media and you will get my drift.

The land of the free and the home of the brave used to mean open hearts and open borders, fair play and opportunity. It used to be the joy of dreaming to BE better and DO better for myself and my neighbor.

Angry, greedy, selfish,confused, burned out, self-righteous, self-centered,hardened, and burdened is the crossroads Americans stand at. We have little time to chose what we will leave our grandchildren. Today is the day and now is the time to be better than a sound byte.

Let’s be ONE nation. I miss that America. Don’t you?

Captain Jumoke Hayward Horton

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;  A time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose;  a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate;  a time of war, and a time of peace.”

Grab something wet to drink and a few tissues if your heart rains down tears when you think about Jumoke Hayward Horton.  My sweet, sweet son Jumoke blessed unto me June 23^rd, 1974, was taken back unto the spirit from whence he came on November 18^th 2009. Bitter sweetness fills my every waking hour when I think of him – wrestling with my joy, happiness, grief, and relief knowing that my child is at peace.  But my knowing that my child is at peace does not mean I am at peace with his death. There is a daily unrelenting, gut wrenching, teeth gnashing pain starting at my toes and transcending and morphing into long, low screams or uncontrollable weeping. My husband and the dogs are starting to recognize the warning signs and they prepare to console me.  Usually it comes with the muffled crying from a bathroom or shower stall as the sadness and longing for Jumoke seeps under doors and from under blankets. Sometimes I think I have it all together thinking “he’s in God’s hands, he’s at peace, he’s closer to you now then he has ever been…”.  The truth is that those thoughts are head truth but not my heart truth.  I want Jumoke back. I want a do over to recognize all the signs I missed, to be able to say all of the things I didn’t, to make everything all right, and I want to know WHY? Why now? Why Jumoke? Why, why, why? Was he mentally ill, depressed, and pushed to the limit of all hope? No notes, speculation or opinions ring true. No rationale or justification explains why all the wonderful people, besides me, who loved and cherished him were not enough for him to stay. That really makes me sad. To think that he was alone or felt alone is something no mother wants for her children. His name, Jumoke, means “everyone loves the child”. How could he forget that?  Some days the sorrow threatens to swallow me whole. I crazily pray for God to give me relief and spirit shows up and comforts me.  The following scriptures; Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8, Psalms 23^rd, and Psalms 34:1-9 promise me that one day I will reconcile my pain and be at peace knowing that my Jumoke is at peace too.

When I shared about the estrangement of my son Jumoke and myself on my May 2009 blog, my prayer was that we would be reconciled. In fact I played the happy scene over and over in my mind many mornings as I sat quietly in meditation but vocal in my prayers that he come home.  It never crossed my mind on a conscious level that I would never hug him or hear his sweet voice again in this life. In fact, I was sure God would bring my prodigal son home to me.

Sometime between 3 and 4 a.m. November 18^th 2009 that prayer would be denied. The shrill ring of the phone yanked me out of sleep.  The first words I heard were,  “Oh Ms. Roberts, Oh, Ms. Roberts I am so sorry.” I heard Monica’s words muffled by her weeping, as I screamed to block her words. My body jerking up out of the bed shaking my head to clear my brain, jumping, running towards the wall in one move, screaming, yelling and wailing out as her words snatched the joy out of my heart.  “Ms. Roberts I’m so sorry Jumoke is DEAD!”   NO——–, NO, NO——Oh my God please NO! Not my baby, not my baby, not my baby. Oh please tell me it’s not true.  Tell me it’s not true. Please—-

But it was true.

It is true.

It is in this pain that I write words of love for my one and only child. Jumoke Hayward Horton.

SPRING

The spring of Jumoke’s life started the day he was born, June 23, 1974. His birth father was Bennie Horton. The dad that raised him is Angelo Allen.

While clearing Jumoke’s personal effects I came across this letter that Angelo had written him.  It is the perfect beginning to share the spring of Jumoke’s life.  Angelo is an incredible dad who eloquently expresses the arrival of Jumoke.

What Happened to Me on June 23, 1974

I was not present in the room when you were born.  Nor was I close by. I don’t know what time it was, or what I was doing at the precise moment you slipped into the world. I don’t know how many pounds you weighed, who the doctors were, or the tender words of love spoken by your mother at your emergence.  I didn’t have the honor of cutting your umbilical cord or giving you your first bath. At the time, I was 5000 miles away on the shores of a different ocean, completely unaware that this miraculous event was taking place. And yet today, I have absolutely no doubt that on some level that glorious day, I must have sensed an imperceptible shift in my life towards Infinite Goodness…

When I awoke that day, I’m sure I must have been at least vaguely aware of a general feeling of well being that I didn’t normally have.  Perhaps I was exiting one of those astonishingly beautiful dreams you can’t remember (but you know that something extraordinary happened in your sleep!) No doubt, some blissful all-knowing awareness was receding from my memory. But before the partition closed, I’m sure I heard the echoes of angels and ancestors celebrating the great gift being delivered to me half a world away in Alaska…

When I left the house that day, I’m sure it must have registered somewhere on the periphery of my soul how sweet and wonderful that summer morning was; how my every breath was a warm and soothing gift for which I was deeply thankful. On a level beyond the acuity of my senses, my heart must have noticed how the blooms on my father’s rose bushes glowed the most magnificent hues of red that day, and how every petal, every leaf, every thorn was absolutely perfect. Dappled drops of sunlight probably splashed delightfully on my head and shoulders as I walked under the sycamore and maple trees on Tyron Avenue. I’m sure that as I passed my neighbors, they seemed unusually good-looking and friendly that day…

Whatever my activities were that day: working, playing, walking the dog, hanging-out, getting laid, getting paid, or going broke, I probably had an inexplicable and unshakable feeling of absolute redemption! It undoubtedly felt like I was “on a roll”; that the celestial dice were coming up “sevens” no matter what I did, and a cosmic roulette wheel was stopping on my bet with every turn! Of course, back then, I probably chalked all the blessings that day up to “luck”- never dreaming that on a cellular level, in a Spiritual reality, my entire being was reverberating with profound joy due to the birth of a son that I didn’t know, to a mother who was still an absolute stranger to me, in a far-off land I had never once visited. Whoodathunkit?

And when I went to bed on that warm and perfect summer night, I’m sure the sky was strewn with interwoven flocks of stars and luminescent fireflies gently pulsed over the silhouetted landscape of my father’s yard.  The moon slowly steered its course overhead while love-struck crickets chirped songs of eternal peace in the Uni-versal orchestra. No doubt, I drifted off into the deepest and most peaceful sleep I have ever known that night.  And once asleep, I am certain the partition opened again, and I was welcomed back among the angels and ancestors to receive wisdom that I wouldn’t understand or appreciate for decades.  I have no doubt that on that very night, June 23, 1974; Absolute Spirit spoke to my soul in the timeless realm of God’s perfect garden. And It said:

“Congratulations! Jumoke is born! In two short years, you and he will finally meet.  And from that point forward, your heart will be blessed beyond your wildest imaginings – simply by knowing him – and he will be the son you will eternally adore…”

How right Spirit was! How perfectly correct!

Thank you so much, Jumoke, for choosing to be born.  Thank you for bestowing upon me the honor and privilege of being your dad.  Thank you for being the gracious healing presence that you are in my life.

I love you dearly,

Dad

SUMMER

The summer of Jumoke’s life was the goose’s golden egg in my life. I watched him grow from an independent young boy to a smart, funny, successful man. The summer of Jumoke’s life was the autumn of my own. It never occurred to me that I might reach the winter of my life before Jumoke. The following excerpts from his Eulogy will give you a glimpse of the accomplished, wonderful man he was.

“Early in his development, Jumoke exhibited a good mind for scholastics as well as a solid talent in sports. His interest in sports began with his participation on a peewee ice hockey team in Anchorage Alaska. Although he towered over the other six year olds, Jumoke was reluctant to use his size to intimidate the other players. From the very beginning, Jumoke seemed to be very aware of his exceptional size and strength, and he was always gentle, loving and patient with other children. These qualities formed the basic makeup of Jumoke’s character and he retained them for the remainder of his life.

With the encouragement of the adults in his life, Jumoke began to excel in basketball at East Anchorage High School. While there, he was named the Gatorade Player of the Year during 1991 – 1992 season. His exceptional talent soon gained the attention of college scouts and Jumoke found himself the recipient of several basketball scholarships offers, including a four-year athletic scholarship at St. Mary’s College in Moraga, California. During his tenure at St. Mary’s from 1992 to 1996, Jumoke set a school record for highest career field goal percentage (61.6%). Before the end of his athletic career, Jumoke was invited to play at an international tournament in Beijing China. Naturally, his team won the tournament.

It was at college during the summers that Jumoke began working as a deck hand for the Blue and Gold Fleet ferry service. He soon discovered he had a real love of the sea. Working his way up from the bottom, Jumoke quickly advanced to the rank of Captain (one of the very few African-American ferry captains in the United States) and thereafter earned his living driving 100-ton ferry vessels all over the San Francisco Bay.  His dad Angelo would later remark, “The greatest thrill and proudest moment I ever had in my life was sitting in the wheelhouse with my son while he piloted one of those big vessels”…

What the eulogy doesn’t tell you is also during the summer of Jumoke’s life; he called me 3-4 times a week just to say, “I love you mom”, he sent loving, unexpected gifts out of the clear blue since he didn’t believe in, or celebrate, designated holidays. He taught me that any day is a good day to celebrate.  I had major surgeries on several occasions.  Jumoke insisted on coming home to care for me even though his stepfather Morris is a pretty good nurse.  While coming out of a pain med induced sleep due to my knee replacement surgery, I vaguely overheard Jumoke turning down an offer to play Pro-International Basketball. He told the guy that he had something more important to do. I couldn’t wait for him to finish his call to ask why he would turn down such an opportunity? He told me “Mom you are the most important thing right now. Nothing comes before you. “  That was my Jumoke. Can you feel him?

WINTER

I didn’t realize that Jumoke would skip autumn and go right into the winter of his life. I was totally unprepared even though I had been receiving signs during the last couple years of his life. My May 2009 Blog posting is an insight into my last days with my son:

A Mother By Any Other Name Is Love

“The greatest misfortune of my life has come!” These words were written by a monk after the death of his mother, and reflect exactly how I felt when I lost my mother on March 28^th 1992.  The following poem echoes that loss;

“That year, although I was still very young

My mother left me.

And I realized

That I was an orphan.

Everyone around me was crying.

I suffered in silence…

Allowing the tears to flow,

I felt my pain soften.

Evening enveloped Mother’s tomb,

The pagoda bell rang sweetly.

I realized that to lose your mother

Is to lose the whole universe.”

The poem is part of a Buddhism tradition outlined in the Rose Ceremony in the Plum Village Chanting Book. The entire reading evokes sweet memories of my mother. Her sweet, tender commitment to loving me from the inside out taught me to love myself.  The fragrance of her love fills my soul with joy. She influenced my life in meaningful ways that included her wisdom, knowledge, strength, patience, love, generosity and kindness. Without my mother I could have never known how to love. It’s because of her love for me that I learned to love all living beings. Compassion, understanding and forgiveness – all practiced by my mother and passed to me.

Mother, Mere, Maji, Urdu, Madre, Makuahine, Nanay, Anya, Ibu, and Matka.  No matter what language, whoever has a mother has the most beautiful gift life has to offer.

Mother’s Day dates back to the ancient Greeks, who held festivals to honor mother of the Gods, Rhea.  Early Christians celebrated mother’s festival on the fourth Sunday of Lent to honor Mary, the mother of Christ.  That date evolved into Mothering Sunday. The colonist whom settled in American discontinued Mothering Sunday because of the lack of time. But a smart and probably tired woman by the name of Julia Ward Howe organized a day for mothers devoted to peace. In 1907 Anna M. Jarvis a Philadelphia teacher initiated a movement to set up a national Mother’s Day in honor of her mother. Ms. Jarvis’ tireless commitment to establish Mother’s Day was realized in 1914 when President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed the Second Sunday in May as a national holiday in honor of mothers.

The increasing practice of gift giving and commercialization of Mother’s Day was not Ms. Jarvis intention but nonetheless has become an integral part of Mother’s Day. The ritual of buying instead of showing love cheats mothers who need or desire nothing more than the acknowledgement that she is appreciated. In the Plum Village Chanting Book it is written eloquently, “If you love your mother, you don’t have to do anything. You love her; that is enough.”

This Mothers Day I suffer great pain.  My one and only child, my son, has not spoken to me since September 2007. He called me on a Sunday afternoon and told me succinctly, clearly, and unemotionally that he no longer wanted me in his life. I was as shocked, hurt, and saddened then as I am now writing this.  How could my only child that I love so intensely not want me in his life? His rationale and explanation were muddled and so unlike the loving boy-child I had loved all of his life and all of mine.  I knew as he spoke there was no room for discussion – he had only called to inform me of his decision to cut me out of his life.  What could I have done to hurt him so? What could I have done for him to sever me from his life? I don’t know but I do know I would have, if I could have, changed his heart.  I would have fought harder to keep him on the phone.  I would have crawled across the miles to get near him and to hold him close to remind him how our hearts beat as one from the day I laid eyes on him. I would have moved heaven and earth and made a deal with God and become a mother stalker if I had known that Sunday afternoon the loss I feel now.  My mother told me that children should not die before their parents, and now I know what she meant. The black hole in my heart is bottomless as I mourn the physical loss of my son.  I remind myself that this challenge will make me stronger that it serves some higher purpose and has nothing to do with me.  My son has separated from me but he cannot stop me from loving him. My love reaches across the miles and hugs him close every moment of everyday. I pray that he is happy and excelling in life.  My mother’s love was unconditional for me and so is my love for my son, though I miss him terribly.

I am ending this posting with an excerpt from Plum Village Chanting Book, “Tonight, when you return from school or work, or the next time you visit your mother, go to her room calmly, silently, with a smile, and sit down beside her.  Without saying anything, make her stop working, and look at her for a long time.  Look at her well, in order to see her well, in order to realize she is there, alive, sitting beside you.  Then take her hand and ask her this short question, “Mother, do you know something?” She will be a little surprised, and will ask you, smiling, “What, dear?” Continuing to look into her eyes with a serene smile, tell her, “Do you know that I love you?” Ask her this question without waiting for an answer. Even if you are thirty, forty years old, or older, ask her simply, because you are the child of your mother. Your mother and you will both be happy, conscious of living in eternal love. And tomorrow when she leaves you, you will not have any regrets.”

This Mother’s Day wherever you may be, may you be loved.

From my heart to yours, Happy Mother’s Day.

_____________________________________________________

“A diverse man of many talents, Jumoke enjoyed martial arts, yoga, Vietnamese food, and window shopping to name a few. He was, and remains in many ways, larger than life:  Tremendous stature. Tremendous heart. Tremendous compassion. Tremendous courage. When it was time for Jumoke to depart his life on November 18, 2009 he gracefully bade his friends and family farewell and stepped into eternal life.”

God graced my life with the greatest gift – Jumoke.  Jumoke was a Mariner, a lover of the sea. His wreath was set to sea and his ashes scattered at the  latitude and longitude, 37.49.2313”N / 12230.4876’ W.

There is also Captain Jumoke Hayward Horton Memorial Page on Facebook .  Thank you for sharing this journey of grief and joy with me.

“Yet it was good of you to share in my troubles.”  Philippians 4:14

___________________________________________

Crossing the Bar

Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep

Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

When I embark;’

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have crossed the bar.

Alfred Tennnyson

The word “pathetic” aptly describes the drivel televised, printed and programmed as news everyday in this country. The 1970’s film NETWORK’s famous line “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore” was the death knell for news. Real news was swapped for 30-second sound bytes and high network ratings. It was as though a media mogul was perched above Wall Street when he sent out a memo to the media at large throughout media land which said:

“Those of you that desire long term employment will institute, implement, and memorize these new policies. To insure that we have the most uninformed audience in history, we will no longer provide substantive, truthful unbiased news. Our corporate owners and shareholders desire a numb, dumb and ignorant audience. The rule of thumb is to push personalities before people – no relevant, poignant issues of the day. Always report conjecture, probabilities, possibilities, could be, maybes, and someone or sources said. Anchors, radio jocks and talking heads will be mostly white men, and if you question this don’t bother to return tomorrow and pick up your final paycheck now. Our job is to sucker punch our audience with headlines that choke their reason and ability to think. Our job is to control them emotionally, divide and pit them against one another. Scare, anger, incite, and confuse are the passwords that hold our audience hostage as we pander the issues that destroy the soul of America. The more idiotic you think a news story is, will be the one that will be our breaking news. Balloon boy, Sarah Palin’s Facebook page, political party’s infighting, Kate and Jon, Michael Jackson and Anna Nicole Smith is now the news. Under no circumstances will the casualties and cost of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars be headline news, fit those stories in where you can. Blackwater, KBR and Halliburton governmental contracts that kill innocent civilians, troops and drain the nations coffers aren’t as important as making sure we take down ACORN and the people that depend on the ACORN housing programs. If you don’t agree with our policies – quit, then try to sue us. The people that own us have the most attorneys, lobbyist and two or three Supreme Court justices. If you have any questions, concerns, or a conscience in regards to this memo, file them and spend your time trashing the current administration. That is what you were hired to do.”

When I thought about writing this particular post this morning, my spirit was heavy. How and why should I have to defend, explain and discuss how black and the blackness of our Commander-in-Chief are dividing this country?  Black – what does it mean? Webster’s Dictionary has a litany of definitions. Black, the achromatic object color of least lightness characteristically perceived to belong to objects that neither reflect nor transmit light, a person belonging to a black skinned race ep: Negro or Afro American; heavy, serious, having a very deep low register, dirty, soiled, reflecting or transmitting little or no light, very sad, gloomy or calamitous. My personal favorite is in-the-black, showing a profit such as a financial statement. Black the word and its connotations is a black cloud that disrupts the airwaves, is lodged in the minds of our citizens and is clogging our ability to disseminate, sort and analyze what we are seeing and hearing throughout all forms of media. Blackness is blinding and has blinded us to the truth and enormity of the issues this country faces. Everything from global warming, health care reform, the economy, education, justice, war and peace have been colored, covered and choked by the black dust filling the air that we breathe. Black used as a weapon, definer and conclusion of what can and should be accomplished. How did we get here? How did the color of our President’s skin give license for race to become the central theme of everything he does and put into question anything he has accomplished? I hear the proponents of equality, justice spouting the rhetoric that his race has nothing to do with the issues. Is that so? Let’s consider the following in reference to the actions, words and comments by the media at large, congress, talking heads and pundits when discussing or referring to anything and everything this President does or is trying to do.   Webster’s dictionary will serve as the expert on all things black.  Blackball an adverse vote esp. against admitting someone to membership in an organization. Let’s give that definition to congress; blackball, to exclude socially, ostracize, also the media, congress and talking heads. Black and blue darkly discolored from blood infused by bruising, that would be the daily berating, beatings and belittling passed off as news by the media and news anchors. Black book, a book containing a blacklist.  Black list, a list of persons who are disapproved of or are to be punished or boycotted.  President Obama’s name tops this list across the country. Black Death, the black patches formed on the skin of its victims. That would be the spot covering the souls and minds of the peoples of this nation. Black eye, a discoloration around the eye from bruising, that would be how other nations across the world see us as we continually attack and demean our president.  Black flag, to go immediately to the pits, which is where the right wing birthers and talk show hosts would prefer to pitch our president. Black gold, petroleum, one of this nation’s favorite form of black. Black guard, the kitchen servants of a large household, a rude or unscrupulous person, the first where many people think black folk still should be in the white house and the second the people that think and believe that. Blackhead, a small plug of sebum blocking the duct of a sebaceous gland especially on the face, in this case blackheads, block the brain and reasoning of congress and the media at large. Blackheart, a plant disease is which the central tissues blacken, in this case a disease in our hearts hardened to the truth.  Blackout, to become enveloped in darkness, temporary loss of vision, consciousness or memory, which blankets our nation. Black vomit, vomitus consisting of dark-colored matter, that would be what gushes out of radio and television anchors that disrespect, disregard and delight in dissing President Obama. Lastly, the black hole, a hypothetical celestial body with a small diameter and intense gravitational field that is held to be a collapsed star. But in this case the infamous black hole is not hypothetical as we spiral into its depths losing our ability to think and feel empathy, compassion or reason.  Black and blackness used to refer to a color in a crayon box. The color black is now used as a wedge to divide and enflame. Today be aware of the blackness that shrouds our nation and decide if you will remember it is only a color and not a condition or the essence of our president of these United States of America.

I have a strict chain of command in my life that I rarely deviate from. God first, me second and then everybody and everything else. One of my financial gurus, Suze Orman, states it differently –  you, then people and things. I bought that up because during the past month my life and my web mistress’ life faced challenges and situations that involved us being fully present. Every moment required that we be present in that moment so the enormity of what we faced wouldn’t discourage or defeat us. This month demonstrated that life goes on no matter what you are experiencing and doesn’t ask or require your input. I was reminded that the world isn’t changed by my puny efforts, so the best thing I could do was to let go and let life take me wherever I needed to be. What I realized was that I don’t have to know what is going on, all I need to do is trust. Trust that I am doing the best I can and to be the best I can. All I need do is to think about how far I have come, even when I didn’t know where I was going and what I would do when I arrived.  During this month that flashed by, I reveled in the gloriousness wonder that life is and continues to be. I didn’t have time to wonder what was going on, and more importantly, how I was going to fix it. I thought about the goodness and the good people around me. Then it dawned on me that one major habit I had let weave itself into my life was squeezed out. MEDIA. The news in every form from newspapers, to television and radio had taken a back seat. Everything was sweeter and all things became possible. I had allowed the insidious habit of filling my mind, ears and eyes with the programmed garbage to alter how I viewed others and myself. I realized that no matter how positively I live my life, the poison fed through media is meant to defeat, deflate and destroy. Strong words, but the next time you tune in to radio or television news or read your paper, notice how you feel. Do you feel hopeless, angry, judgmental and amazed at the atrocities and pain that we perpetrate against one another?  Now I say “no more”.

My new business has taken up most of my time this month. www.greatworkplan.com/muldrowrobertsp encourages personal development at least 20 minutes a day.  It’s a time to feed my mind and spirit, food for thought that will change the way I think, which in turn will change the way I live. This pass month my friend Peg sent me the funniest e-mails that made me laugh so hard that my endorphins engulfed my office. Thought, compassion, love, laughter and peace are the tools I want to build my life on. So I have decided the news, and all other entities designed to determine how and what I feel, go to the bottom of the list in my life. I get to make that determination every moment of everyday. I know that changing the world doesn’t happen on the outside of me. Think about that today. Think about if you are ready to take the leap of faith and trust that God will make sure you show up where you need to, and know what you need to know when you need to know it.

Our planet appears to be in chaos, and if you only see the world from a myopic view, that would appear to be the truth. The real truth is that there is beauty that abounds, good and loving people that are showing up and silently changing the world. Turn off the outside noise and tune in to you. Feed yourself with good words, music, people and situations, and I’ll bet the world that you see will become the blessed, beautiful place you desire.

I would like to end this post with some of the memorable, thought provoking and funny stuff that strengthens my resolve to change me and therefore I will change the world. Will you join me?

Here’s the Puppy Who Can’t Roll Back Over.  Next is the Will Ferrell plea to protect the health insurance companies.  And then there are the Billionairs for Wealth Care.  The Billionairs are so patriotic that they even sing the Battle Hymn of the Republic at their rallies.  And last, but certainly not least, the ultimate love story of Suryia and Roscoe.

I went to bed exhausted. My mind was crammed with images and words of the past month full of health care reform events, rallies, meetings and editorial submissions. The words “get a job, we hate you and Obama” and unprintable expletives rang in my ears. The visions of old ladies being forcibly carried out of Austin’s health reform rally Saturday August 29^th 2009 as they clashed with proponents of health care reform and proudly carried signs of a Nazi Obama. What a month I thought as I fell asleep. My last conscious thoughts were optimistic – that the efforts of Bell County MoveOn.org Council had made a difference in humanizing the debate on affordable and accessible healthcare for all.

I was awakened by what I would like to think of as an omen. I was having dinner with President Obama and First Lady Michelle. We were at an assisted living facility surrounded by seniors angling their wheelchairs and walkers to get close to the President and thank him for the passage of health care reform legislation. I was miffed since the meal had begun with just the President, Michelle and I. Where were these people coming from and how dare they interrupt my time with the President?  As I was conjuring up ways to politely tell the seniors to get lost in walks Denzel Washington, Will Smith and my estranged son, Jumoke. My son hugged me close as Denzel and Will gave me a shout out as they pulled a chair up.  It was a dream interrupted by joy in my heart and the damn alarm I had forgotten to turn off. But the seed of hope had been rekindled and I woke up with a smile on my face.

This past month has been one health care reform event after another, and the August congressional recess was a call I had to answer.  The people I stood with, rallied with, and wrote letters with, all had a common purpose. We want to educate and inform our neighbors how important it is to insure the passage of health reform this year. The proponents of health care reform seek to demonstrate brotherly love and not just talk about it.  During the Austin rally on August 29^th one of the speakers inquired as to why if you talk about helping your brother you are a Christian – but if you actually want to put action behind helping your brother you are called a Socialist?  It is a question that should be asked across the nation – and answered by those who value money before life.

I have heard throughout this month a phrase repeated, “I want my America back” and it gave me pause to wonder what were they really saying? Was it the sentiment like the guy who told me to go back to the ghetto (Temple Telegram August 23^rd 2009) or the people driving by in their cars at honk and waves flipping the finger and screaming out vulgar names? Was it the people who were still holding on to the anger of the lost election of 2008 when President Obama was elected? What were they talking about?  Was it the home of the free for some, equal access for some, opportunity, fair representation of the law, education, health care and housing all for some? Was this the America they wanted back? Sadly yes. The America I have known all of my life. It was the encouragement of my parents, JFK, Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr., and recently, Teddy Kennedy, all deceased, that held up the vision of a country that could be better. Their words and their works equipped me with a dream that lives in my heart and fills my consciousness of a new America.  I don’t want the America back that speaks of ideals but fails to live up to them. I want an America that strives to be better.  As I watched the funeral of Teddy Kennedy yesterday I felt a sadness of losing a great man who spent his life trying to change the face of America. But the sadness was eclipsed by the joy of knowing the foot soldiers his legacy leaves behind. There are millions of people like me around America who know we can be better. Teddy Kennedy passed on the baton to another visionary, Barack Obama.  He needs our help and we need his help to forge this new America.  America the beautiful is in our sights. Let us move toward it starting with health care reform for all.

A good friend and I went to see Julie and Julia yesterday, August 16, 2009.  It was a perfect reprieve after viewing the Sunday morning line-up of talk shows masquerading as news. I did get particularly excited when I saw that Rachel Maddow was going to be a guest on Meet the Press.  Great! A woman with balls that will set the male dominated panel straight. Wrong – but I will get back to that.

My girlfriend and I enjoyed Julie and Julia immensely, and agreed that if we had believed the reviews of the critics we would have missed a delightful film.  I left the theater with my head brimming with the dishes I would prepare, loaded with butter of course, and a bowl full of cooking metaphors to write in this posting.  The movie reminded me that you don’t have to be Parisian to master the art of cooking French food.  So it stands to reason that you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out there is something amiss in the kitchen in the House – and I don’t mean where they cook the vegetables planted in Michelle’s White House garden.

Over 56 million Americans decided in 2008 that the cook that had been in the White House for eight years, and his prep cooks, had not only ruined most of the food they attempted to cook, but poisoned most of the country that swallowed their concoctions as well. We, the people, decided to get a new cook, new apprentices to assist in the kitchen, and feed the American people something that had been missing from our country for a long time – truth, change, courage, civility, non-partisanship, hope, empathy and leadership.  Ingredients that are essential to this country and remedies to help us recover from the food poisoning that still has us retching.  Remember those main ingredients the last cook left in the White House kitchen?  Big banks and wall street bailouts, GM, Ford and Chrysler hearings, the Iraq war, loss of jobs, lack of health care, homeless, trade agreements that benefit everyone but Americans, torture, deceit and cover-ups.  To say the new cook got stuck with a filthy kitchen and rotten food would be an understatement. But I know (as an experienced and great cook myself) that you work with the ingredients at hand. Mixing ingenuity, creativity and purpose you can make something delicious out of the bland. In this case feed the multitude with a lot of hope and very little help.

Now back to Meet the Press with my hopes pinned on Rachel Maddow turning up the heat on the invincible cast iron skillets known as old white men. It didn’t take long to see that she was like the newly elected cook, President Obama.  Both expected to prepare gourmet food with not a hint of gourmet ingredients.  Rachel and President Obama had the same instructions to prepare a recipe for change and truth in common;

1)      White males, including the moderators, dominate the show, congress, corporations and the media. To add flavor there is a sprinkling of women and people of color. Not too much though lest the dish be strange to the right.

2)      The show and the White House have the same talking points delivered by the same old         chefs so that one would have to conclude that the same program director writes copy for all of the shows and the Republicans and Blue Dog Democrats share the same agenda which is the status quo. This of course keeps the pots boiling over food burning, and what is left is for their constituents and donors only. The rest of us can go to the empty shelves of the local food bank.

3)      All of the experts that appeared with Rachel peppered and poisoned the dialogue just as they do with the White House. The experts either passed legislators, disgraced legislators, legislators with questionable ethics and/or under investigation, or people who show up Sunday after Sunday that agree and demand that the status quo remain.

4)      If Rachel or President Obama dare try and change the recipe to give more palatable information or food for thought they are not called upon by the moderator/right wing constituency, drowned out or called out, shouted down or intimidated and/or threatened.

5)      Lastly Rachel and President Obama are dealing with people who have not a twit of knowledge about cooking.  What these people do bring to the table however, are unannounced guests, lobbyists, special interests, alliances and associations with unnamed and concealed donors. Unexpected guests can ruin a perfect meal.  Wouldn’t you view these shows differently if you knew who these people represented and where they usually cooked and ate their meals?

Haven’t you considered that what you are being spoon fed by the media is not fair or balanced, objective or truthful? Nor is the kitchen at the White House staffed with a congress that is cooking for the left, independents, and progressives that elected them. Put your fork and spoon down and stop shoveling in the horse manure.  Acquaint yourself with some chefs that are mixing up digestible fare. Take your pick. National Public Radio (NPR), Democracy Now, Huffington Post, AlterNet, The Ed Show, Rachel Maddow and Rollin Martin to name a few. Taste them and see if you might push back from the table of one-sided information without indigestion and heartburn.

Over the pass six months we have been fed a consistent diet of all the things the newly elected cook in the White House has not done. Let me remind you of some of the dishes he has prepared; He signed a stimulus bill that was imperative to quiet wall street and jump start a economy on life support, He signed the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act aimed at eliminating wage discrimination, a bill expanding government health insurance for children, a bill that advocates for consumer against abusive credit card lending practices, a measure giving Food and Drug Administration regulatory authority over tobacco, a cash for clunkers program to save auto makers behinds, encourage the manufacture and purchase of fuel- efficient vehicles (which incidentally helps our environment) and the nomination of the third woman and first Latino on the Supreme Court.  The preparation of these dishes feeding a hungry country might not seem like much to the minority of naysayers but for a President/cook that started with no money, whining children a/k/a congress he has accomplished in six months what the last administration took eight years to destroy.

This President has much left to do in the kitchen in fact his most challenging dishes to date; Health Care Reform with a public option, green jobs for a green economy, strong international alliances, an end to the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, care and support for our Veterans and most importantly a different way of doing things in Washington and in this country. He needs a few adequate cooks to help do the job are you available?

The cable networks and mainstream media seem to relish the idea that Obama’s popularity with the American public is falling and they have covered their hands with lard to insure that he fails. Is it clear to these short order cooks/media that if the chef fails so goes the kitchen/America?  Have we, the guests at the table, recognized that it is we that he is trying to feed? Do we not recognize that the rising number of hungry, lack of health care and loss of homes could be us and ours?

In conclusion, the President, our cook, needs your help to keep the country from closing down and the kitchen from burning up. If we do not stand up and support the change in the kitchen we voted for, there will be no need to pull a chair up to the kitchen table because there will be nothing left to eat. Get off of your attitude and kick some apathy. Do it now, and just maybe tomorrow we all can eat.

I attended a workshop July 25^th 2009 to learn more about health care reform. I felt that in order to separate the myths from the distortions that dominate the news, I needed to be better informed.  After all, how could I engage my neighbors, community and legislators about life and death problem that affects over 47 millions Americans if I couldn’t communicate clearly and succinctly the urgency to legislate health care reform NOW?  Attendees were a diverse representation of gender, race and age.  It was clear that health care reform didn’t discriminate.  Everyone had stories of their lives, families and friends affected by the lack of basic medical care.  Some reasons I heard that got people out of bed on a Saturday morning were riveting.  I talked to people who had lost their health care because of downsizing and elimination of their jobs, those who had no access to coverage due to pre-existing conditions, premiums so exorbitant that individuals could no longer afford them, business people unable to provide health care for their employees because of the skyrocketing costs and other stories as varied as the people attending.  The people at that workshop represented the stories of people around this country who are living without health care, dying, suffering and languishing as congress, lobbyist and the media debate its merits and affordability. It is strange that the right to bear arms would supersede the right to quality of life or the right to health care but that is another topic we will discuss another day.  During a break between sessions, a young women came into the conference room to inquire what exactly this health care reform workshop was about. It was explained briefly by various attendees that it was about supporting legislation to provide affordable health care for all Americans. She said, “Oh, this is not for me. I don’t agree with that” to which I asked why not?  She replied, “Because if people are sick they can go to emergency.” I think everyone in earshot was amazed that she thought it was a solution. When someone suggested that scenario was more expensive then preventative care or having access to health care, she turned on her heels and left.  I couldn’t help but wonder if the words “Patriots” on the signage directing people to the workshop gave the impression we were tea baggers or, at the very least, of like mind. In that moment it hit me how many of my fellow citizens actually feel that all people in this country don’t deserve or merit health care.  Could they know that 1 out of 4 Texans don’t have health care?  Do they care that Texas is at the bottom of the totem pole in the entire nation for providing health care to children, seniors, soldiers, veterans, widows and workers? How could she and the proponents against health care reform see dollar signs and not people? I don’t get it but her inquiry strengthened my resolve to help President Obama get health care reform instituted in this country NOW!

It will take every concerned uninsured and insured citizen to fight this fight that will insure health care for every American. This debate has been raging since President Truman, Roosevelt, and Clinton tried to get it legislated. 70 years later we are arguing about whether our fellow citizens should have health care. It doesn’t’ make sense unless you factor in the 1.4 million dollars lobbyists from insurance companies and related health care interest are pumping into Washington everyday.

I am a Texas resident and so am calling on my entire fellow Texans to turn up the heat on our state representatives and senators. Collectively they oppose health care or any measure that would help Texans and other Americans receive basic medical care.  I purposely highlight Texas Senator John Cornyn. Senator Cornyn is a junior member of the Senate Finance Committee currently determining ways to pay for health care reform. His vote will help decide what kind of health care reform plan hits the entire senate.  Since Senator Cornyn was elected to the senate in 2002 and he has received campaign contributions of over $1,352,724 from the health industry,  $2,995,628 from finance/insurance/real estate, $1, 311,843 from other, and $858, 153 from Ideology/single issue interest. I have no clue what other and ideology-single issue represents, but it sounds rather dubious and ominous. Wait there is more! According to Opensecrets.org for the 2010 cycle of campaign contributions Senator Cornyn already has received a total of $219, 646 from Pharmaceuticals/health products, $348,169 Insurance and $746,463 from health professionals. Senator Cornyn doesn’t support health care reform but suggest an alternative that would include state-based initiatives and incentives to spur people to live healthier lives, which would lower health care cost. I don’t know about you but it looks like the big dollars supporting Senator Cornyn is the only Americans health he is concerned about. Call, write and e-mail him today and let him know his rhetoric, stance and protection of his donors and campaign contributors will not protect him from the electorate who put him in office. His Washington phone number is 202-224-5922 and for all of his contact information, access this link.

Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison has indicated she might run for governor, but until that time she also must be reminded that health care reform should be at the top of her agenda. She has offices in Washington, Austin, Dallas, Houston, San Antonio, Abilene and Harlingen Texas. Just the rent on these offices could cover hundreds of Texans health care.  Her Washington D.C. phone number is 202-224-5922.  Lastly, Representative John Carter who represents district 31 of Bell County, Texas, has the following atrocious voting record on health care, NO March 2008 on giving mental health full equity with physical health, NO to allow State Children’s Health Insurance Programs (SCHIP) to cover 6 million more children in January 2008, NO to adding 2-4 million children to SCHIP eligibility in October 2007, NO on requiring negotiated medical prices for Medicare part D in January 2007, YES on denying non-emergency treatment for lack of Medicare co-pay February 2006, YES on limiting medical malpractice lawsuits to $250,000 damages May 2004, YES on limited prescription drug benefits for Medicare recipients, November 2003, NO on allowing reimportation of prescription drugs July 2003,  YES to remove restrictions on menopause medication June 2008.

The American Public Health Association (APHA) on health issues rated Representative John Carter 0%. APHA is the oldest and largest organization of public health professionals in the world. Take a moment as you study Representative Carter’s voting record over the pass seven years and ask yourself who does he represent? It is incumbent on Texans and people around the country to find out who your congress people are representing?” Then it is imperative that you call them out and demand they answer for the lack of concern they have for their constituency regarding health care and all issues that affect children, seniors, poor, disadvantaged and disenfranchised Americans.

In conclusion remember to separate Facts from the Myths:

Myth: President Obama and the proponents want government run health care to take over.  Fact: Competition with the private sector is the aim to bring cost down. What is Medicare, Veterans Hospitals and Medicaid if not governmentally run? Should we dispose of it?

Myth: If we have government-run health care then we will have long waiting periods and rationed health care. Fact: Health care is already rationed in this country it’s that it’s rationed to who can pay rather than who needs it most.

Myth: Government-run heath care won’t let you choose your doctor. Fact: Private insurance doesn’t let you choose your doctor either. If the doctor isn’t in your network, you pay out of pocket or don’t see the one of your choice.

Myth: Government-run health care dictates which medications physicians can prescribe. Fact: Private insurance already dictate which medications will be prescribed by limiting what they will pay for and how high your co-pay will be.

How empowering it is if you know the facts and you can see the myths for the lies they are.

We need Health Reform with a Public Option. There are four keys to the Public Health Insurance Option. R.E.A.L.

Right away – Everyday we delay, the costs are escalating.

Everyone must have access to quality health care in America.

Accountable- A public health options must be publicly accountable and transparent to the electorate and congress.

Large enough to lower cost by having a nationwide network of providers so that costs are competitive and we have the ability to bargain on equal terms with private insurance plans.

I know this has been one of my longer columns and I appreciate you hanging to the end. We as a nation can’t allow this opportunity to legislate health care reform pass us by for another seventy years. Party, race, gender or belief is irrelevant. Americans across this country need affordable health care.  Tomorrow is too expensive and too far away for our fellow citizens who need it today.  If you can’t justify it based on its merits and the longevity of America’s strong standing in the world,  consider that if we can fight two wars, bail out wall street,  and support gas and oil interest, can’t we at least support the Americans who make that all possible?

How much fast food can we eat, liquor should we drink, or drugs do we swallow to continue numbing ourselves to the dearth of “factual and truthful” news we get in this country?  Reality shows are competing with the reality of news networks that are reporting everything but news.  The lack of substantive news is not limited to television and includes radio and media print. The competition is for higher ratings, more sponsors and careers based on popularity versus responsible journalism.   Wikipedia, a free online encyclopedia, has a word that aptly describes the type of news reporting we are getting in two words “Weasel words”.  A weasel is a small slithery mammal but the word is sometimes used to describe certain homosapiens.  According to Webster’s dictionary, weasel also “means to escape from or evade a situation or obligation.” Webster’s dictionary definition for weasel word is “the weasel’s habit of sucking the contents of an egg while leaving the shell superficially intact; a word used in order to evade or retreat from a direct or forthright statement or position.”  Weasel words are words or phrases that seemingly support statements without verifying if the source is reliable.  They give the validity of authority to a statement without giving enough information to determine if it is true.  Weasel words and the human weasels that use them don’t have a neutral point of view.  They sit at their desk and spread hearsay and spout their personal opinions. Condescendingly they pass along unsubstantiated, vague and colored words and phrases to provoke, enflame and divide.  Some weasel words used liberally throughout the news reporting community or; “They say that… Some sources claim… Critics/experts say that… It is believed… Research has shown… It is rumored that… Many people say… presumably, allegedly, arguably, supposedly, actually… the mainstream scientific community…it is claimed… studies show… it is notable… etc. etc.   Summed up, television news and its affiliates pose as information when, in fact, its value and purpose is entertainment, nothing more.  The past two weeks I purposely sat down and observed mainstream and cable news stations from A-Z.  It couldn’t be a co-incidence that the only stations I viewed that reported specific sources and names were primarily supported financially by the public and its viewers, (PBS) Public Broadcasting Stations and Link TV which broadcasts Democracy Now.  The mainstream and cable news I viewed was pitiful, self-serving, biased and repetitive.  How could the entire world be in turmoil and the news cherry picked about what we will see and hear?  Brain washing, indoctrination and propaganda seem to be the goal of current news reporting and journalism.   We should take a hard long look at how we are being manhandled and manipulated in our own country by corporations and people that own our news organizations.  Reflect on the news coverage of this past two weeks. If I dropped in from another planet I would assume that Michael Jackson, Sarah Palin, and congressional in fighting was all Americans wanted to hear about. I was disgusted then infuriated as I watched and listened to commentators, journalist and seemingly intelligent news anchors drool over the death of a pop star, (Jackson) the resignation of a governor whose only interest seem to be her own (Palin) and the daily belittling, back biting an arguing between the two political parties that run this country (Congress). What has become of us to allow the people we pay to represent and inform us to treat us like imbeciles and zombies?  Where is our outrage as we watch people, families and situations reduced to name calling, labeling and outright hate-filled and venomous rhetoric?

I am tired of it. I am tired of being told that if I don’t like it – don’t watch it or read it. That comment should be reserved for television shows and publications whose purpose is to entertain, not to inform.  I remember as a child watching the news or reading the daily newspaper with my parents because it was a source of information they trusted and relied on to stay abreast of the issues of the day. Weasel words were the exception not the rule.  I deserve to know that when I tune in or read a newspaper that I will be given enough information to draw my own conclusions and opinions. You deserve the same.  How do we change what we see and hear?  I have the following suggestions. First, let the advertisers and sponsors that monopolize news programming know that you will no longer support them or their products until they stop controlling or manipulating what is said or written.  The people that own television, radio stations and newspapers listen with their wallets. Money is all they understand, so let’s make their pockets lighter so we will get their ears.  Money is the only power outside of our vote that gives us power.  Second, write, call and e-mail your favorite television, radio or newspaper and tell them unless they stop giving us crap and passing it off as news that you will stop watching, listening or reading and then do just that immediately. Everyday that we allow this charade that masquerades as news into our homes, we contribute to another generation becoming numb to the truth around them.  We teach them by our apathy that we are powerless to demand better and thereby become better. Changing the world we live in starts with changing our own lives on the smallest most basic levels. What we allow into our minds and hearts affect how we see the world, each other and ourselves.  I don’t like what I see and I want to change it but I can’t do it alone. I need you to get aboard.  In conclusion I call on you to become involved for the sake of us all.  If not, the hatred, prejudices, self righteous, one sided news will continue to erode any sense of morality and honor we have as a nation. The fall of Rome imploded from within as the citizens danced the night away.  Are you prepared to let weasels that spout weasel words bring the walls down around us?

What is terrorism and who are the people referred to as terrorists that commit these heinous crimes?  I found the following definition at WiseTo.com. “Terrorism is premeditated, politically motivated violence-or the threat of violence-carried out against noncombatant targets. It differs from war, which is a military action formally undertaken by a government. Terrorism may be the work of individuals or groups that operate by stealth rather than by open assault. But governments also practice terrorism, sponsoring attacks against foreign states or individuals who are seen as enemies.”

It is clear terrorists and terrorist extremists are not representative of one nation or one people.  It is misleading and a disservice to assume they come from there. The mainstream media of America, especially since 9/11, has propagated the idea that a stranger from a strange land is usually a terrorist – especially if they are brown, a male of Middle Eastern descent, practices Islam, or is a Muslim.  They are pigeonholed, labeled, targeted, and dangled like a carrot in front of every Americans television screen and radio to evoke terror. They are described as less than human, people without a cause except for hurting and harming Americans.  It is time to stop absorbing the hate-filled rhetoric of television and radio jocks that cause harm of a different kind,  fear.

I want to discuss domestic terrorism. It is not new to our country.  In 1920 the financial district of New York was bombed and killed thirty people. The case was never solved. One of the most memorable cases of domestic terrorism was the 1963 bombing of the 16^th Baptist church in Birmingham, Alabama, which killed four black girls. A former Ku Klux Klan member was the terrorist and eventually convicted May 22, 2002.  The Weather Underground carried out at least twenty-five bombings across this country in the sixties and seventies. It is clear that terrorism is not just them. If we don’t stop finger pointing and taking our anger and righteous indignation out on them, we will miss the terrorist who lives next door.

Consider the murders of fellow Americans the past six weeks. Dr. George Tiller, an abortion provider murdered at his church, in front of members of his congregation.  William Andrew Long, a 23-year-old army private was shot and killed outside a recruiting office, and on June 10^th 2009 Stephen Johns, a security guard at the US Holocaust Memorial Museum was shot dead by a man he thought he was helping.  All these men were American citizens murdered by fellow citizens also known as domestic terrorist. Think about that let it sink in because if we don’t recalibrate our countries notion of who to be afraid of, many more innocent citizens will die. The media, individually and collectively, have villainously portrayed terrorists as them.  Many, too numerous to list, have mislead and fanned the flames of hatred towards them to boost ratings and use their platform to spout their own hateful beliefs, opinions and biased rhetoric.

The deaths of Dr. Tiller, William Long and Stephen Johns should be remembered not only as tragic unnecessary murders, but also as an opportunity to re-access how dangerous it is to label terrorist as them. Hatred and the decision to harm innocent people comes from every nation.

Today as you reflect on the escalating terrorism across this country, determine what YOU can do to help stop it. I have the following suggestions; stop entertaining yourself by listening to or watching hateful and bigoted media persons. Be aware of the people you surround yourself with and be willing to walk away if they practice and preach bigotry or hatred. Finally hold our government accountable for the prosecution, conviction and imprisonment of all terrorists, not just them. Empower yourself with the knowledge that changing the terror we witness can be and must be stopped.  It starts with every individual saying “enough”, then backing it up by standing together against evil – wherever it might live.