These are some difficult days. It seems as if I am watching a train wreck at times as I try to keep up on the new administration as it prepares to takeover. I substitute teach in a rural elementary school with a high Hispanic population. As a person in authority and influence over young minds, I cannot state my personal political opinion in the classroom. Over the last month of subbing, I have had to read Times for Kids (3rd grade) and a Michigan social studies newspaper (4th grade) in which the themes have been our government and our election process. When you see in the faces and the eyes of children terrified of President-elect Trump because of his thoughtless words used to campaign, it breaks your heart. Then they assume you voted for him because you are white and cannot tell them differently, and your heart breaks a little more.
I am a quiet person. I believe in live and let live. I cannot tell my students (over 600 in this school) that I am doing what I can. I make myself clear where I stand – still with her. I make it clear on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and my blog. My following is small. Yet, each heart that hears sends another ripple. I see us holding a line of progress and we must stand firm. I fear for our future and our freedoms.
I feel Christians forget who Jesus was – he was a rebel. Jesus was a rebel fighting for the heart of the law of his time – the heart of his religion. I believe he would agree with our First Amendment:
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
Anyone can take passages from the Bible and see what they want. I can too. Think of Jesus as a child. Can you imagine the atrocities he must have seen growing up under Roman rule? The constant crucifixions in front of him and learning how human beings treat other human beings because they look or believe differently. How those in positions of power (religious, governmental, or wealthy) use people to their advantage without care for the consequences left in the wake of their gains (now think a moment of Aleppo, Syria – how little our world has changed). That boy, Jesus, grew into a man that embraced other cultures (the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4:1-42 and the Centurion’s servant in Matthew 8:5-13). He walked with sinners, tax collectors, lepers, the lame, the blind, and any suffering. Jesus did not see labels – he saw people with hearts and souls. He did not force his ideas and beliefs on anyone. He openly shared them with all who would listen and did not bother with those who would not hear. My Jesus would love our First Amendment because that is the heart of the law and allows us our freewill.
My personal opinion is that Jesus may have been more human than most want to believe. He did have a temper. He threw threw money changers out of the temple (Matthew 21:12). Was that the best course of action? Or, did he lose his temper? Did he act out of character because he was angry? The temple is not the appropriate place for personal monetary gain. The temple should not be a place where those leading the flock exert arrogance and power over them – shame them into a belief or idea – or that they are less and unworthy somehow.
At 58, I realize I can voice my opinion. I does not make me less of a patriot because I disagree with President-elect Trump and his advisers. Our founders wanted that right for me – for all of us. Freewill is part of God’s plan for me too. I never thought I could see a day when I would march in peaceful protest down a street holding a picket sign. I am quiet and not intrusive – however, now I can see that day. I can see a day coming near I need to (have to). I try to look for positives and be balanced. Right now, the biggest positive I see is in resistance to the rhetoric and its consequences coming from the campaign and propaganda of our forming government. I hold President-elect Trump to a higher standard than he has shown or is showing. An individual seeking to be president should not be a bully or use bully tactics to win an election. I expect thoughtful speech that leads us – not speech that inflames and causes a portion of use to hateful and violent toward other portions of us.
Keep watch and stay strong – pray and speak up whenever you can. The United States of America is already great in its embrace of peoples and cultures – just as Jesus would do.
My poetry has been my therapy over the years. In 1993, an unusual traumatic event occurred with me. Poetry over the years has been my sorting out process. I have always had a strong spiritual nature balanced by strong doubt. During period of tremendous confusion, my poetry (sometimes more like stories my son thinks) helped me remember who I am, how I feel, and what I think and always have from a child. The theme I hope comes through is that we should not have our heads too far into the clouds or too deeply into the dirt. Life lives as balance somewhere in the middle with little visits to both edges. All 56 years of my life I have lived in Michigan. I was born in Kalamazoo September 16, 1958. My parents separated when I was young do to my mother’s mental illness. Dad died in 1965 at 29 from a cerebral hemorrhage. I was 6 when he passed. Grandma Peggy (my dad’s mother) went to court 7 times in a year and a half to fight for my younger sister (Kim who was mentally impaired) and me, because my dad had asked her too. She won custody of us. So, I lived with her in Bangor, Michigan through high school and college. I didn’t begin to write poetry until I went to live with my aunt (my mother’s sister) in Wartervliet, Michigan while attending Lake Michigan College in Benton Harbor. My aunt lived near my mother and her mother (my Grandma Elsie). After 2 years there, I attended Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts major in English and minor in Elementary Education. Right out of college fall of 1984 I was hired at St. Mary’s in Paw Paw, Michigan as a kindergarten teacher. I taught kindergarten for 1 year half days and was moved into a full-time first grade position for three years. I met my husband Gary during that time. On October 17, 1987, we married and I moved to Fennville, Michigan where I still live. Gary and I have a son age 24 and a daughter age 19.
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